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[CHAR] Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed) Page 2
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MelonHead The Fighting Fruit
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4 yrs ago
Character you have created: Lekh Antol
Alias: Silence
Speech Colour: bc8dbf
Character Alignment: Walking the Line (Leaning toward Villain)
Identity: Unknown
Age: Mid thirties
Appearance: Lekh’s family are marked by an unusual trait, or perhaps the opposite would be more accurate, they have incredibly nodescript features. Lekh is Caucasian and therefore fits in anywhere white people can move about without much notice. His hair is short and fairly neat and naturally brown, his eyes are naturally blue. He has an athletic build that disguises well as an average one under the right clothing, and stands at about 5ft 10”. However, one can expect Lekh to be using some form of disguise most of the time, so his appearance is probably the most variable thing about him.
Character Personality: Lekh is a master manipulator, but not the ostentatious type. He has learned that the best way to go about his business is anonymity, and it’s a very fine line to walk in order to be both likable but forgettable. Innately he is charismatic and assertive with borderline OCD and personality disorder. On the outside he’s exactly what he wants someone to see. He’s ultimately practical and not overly competitive, more likely to flee than fight if he deems the odds are against him. If one listens particularly carefully they may be able to place his accent, but he is also adept at emulating accents from TV.
Uniform/costume: Silence’s costume is ultimate disguises of all types, he has no consistent outfit or identifying costume.
Origin Info/Details: Silence is ‘fresh off the boat’ so to speak, born in Poland to a family of minor aristocrats/thieves his powers and abilities are inherited ones. For as long as his family’s history has been recorded they have always had their strange gift from the point of reaching manhood, though their skill at utilizing it has varied drastically. His father was particularly gifted, and Lekh’s abilities seem marked for greatness in their own right. The more criminal aspect of his people’s nature seems to also be a historic one, as far as records tell the first Antol was a thief first and aristocrat later, perhaps using his power to manipulate his way to success. The practice fell out of favour for some time, though as the family recently fell upon hard times in the last two centuries or so they transgressed to their criminal roots.
Hero Type (Select one): Psychic
Power Level (Select one below): Street Level
Powers (Be Specific): (Debilitating Aura) Surrounding Silence is a passive psychic aura of his own making that reaches out up to forty feet with concentration, albeit with more power closer to the source. This aura can never be completely contained, and has two main affects. On biological organisms, namely humans, it subtly weakens their mental capacity and physical attributes with more prominent affects at closer ranges for extended periods of time. In weaker willed individuals it can cause incredibly skewed decision making and forgetfulness, not unlike severe intoxication, and a slowing of reflexes and the like.
On technology of an electrical, circuitry or computerized functionality it causes significant failures, making these things unstable around Lekh. Electrical weapons like tazers may mis-fire, electromagnetic door locks may momentarily disable, and other destabilising affects. However, none of these affects are permanent, and only persist when in range of the aura.
Attributes (Select one at each category):
Resources: Average
Weaknesses: Human physicality and the sometimes cumbersome after-effects of his own powers preventing him using certain technology, it takes significant concentration for him to even drive or sit in a vehicle without screwing up the battery, though lower tech vehicles and the like tend to be more resistant to his aura.
Supporting Characters: Adrian Antol, Silence’s brother, less gifted with the family ‘Power’ but talented in his own ways, he’s younger than Lekh and already in Maine, he runs a nightclub in the French Quarter of Lost Haven.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Hmm.
Playlist (Courtesy of DearTrickster): https://play.spotify.com/user/deartrickster/playlist/4MFH0tg1elb1PXy6yhornr?play=true&utm_source=open.spotify.com&utm_medium=open
Sample Post (Minimum Four paragraphs containing dialogue. As this is an Advanced Level game, Sample must also meet the RPG forum's minimum requirement of 12 lines. Only for first time applicants.):
The waves lapped softly against the hull of the trawler as it glided into the harbour in the early hours of the morning. There was an eerie quiet aboard, almost harkening back to the old tales of Ghost Ships sailing into harbour unmanned. In reality there was simply few awake at such an ungodly hour and the secondary purpose of the trawler was not one that would leave one wanting to attract attention with unnecessary fan-fare. The ship was one of many that offered a service to those dissatisfied with their lot in Europe without the means or perhaps the inclination to obtain valid entry into the ‘great’ U.S.A. There were perhaps ten of them stowed away in an empty supply room barely big enough for half their number, dozing or staring into nothingness with an uneasy yet somehow hopeful expression upon their faces. The Polish man who had conspicuously earned himself more space than any of the others in one corner fell into the former category.
The ship moored at one of the more inconspicuous docking points close to the French Quarter, which was coincidentally (or perhaps not) the place where the Polish traveller wished to go. He stood up suddenly, while those around him eyed him warily. They had been together too long, the man thought sardonically, even his mask had slipped in such close quarters for such an extended period. No matter, he would be unfortunate to see them again. To say he had packed light would be an understatement, the only clothes to his name were those adorning him, a full nike tracksuit. He did have a small backpack with some less than savoury bits and pieces and some mementoes, but for the most part he was painfully under-equipped. Still, it was well within his capacity to rectify that small issue.
He escaped any boarding official’s eye upon slipping out the docks, text-book evasion by all accounts. It seemed the scant research he had carried out on the journey using newspapers and the like had served him well already, though catching up with more current events was a must. Still, he could deal with that problem when he had his feet on the ground so to speak, which meant seeking out someone he’d rather not see. His brother.
A short taxi ride to the French Quarter’s strip was more than informative, though it cost the traveller quite the head-ache reining in his more intrusive abilities. He was aware the area had more metas than any other area by population, but they were almost common-place. He was moving around at a busy time for trouble, crime was rampant in areas where people intoxicated themselves and fights were frequent. He spotted two would be vigilantes dealing with criminal elements on his way to his brother’s nightclub which was somewhat ostentatiously named ‘Eden’, they seemed fairly competent to his as yet inexperienced eye, though manageable. Further observations were cut short however by the cab pulling up outside the club. The passenger’s lack of anything resembling American currency left him in a somewhat embarrassing situation for only a moment though. With practiced skill he unleashed his reined in power, saturating the driver in near nauseating waves of his psychic aura. He handed the man a Polish bill, nodding his thanks. The cabby looked at it with a frown, shrugged, and tucked it away. The man smiled.
The club was winding down as people filtered out into the early morn, unstable and sickly intoxicated. He had little trouble meandering his way through them, neither drawing attention to himself nor giving way at any point, an interesting and somewhat contradictory set of actions only possible because of his unique set of skills. He paid little attention to his surroundings, all the better to nonchalantly dismiss his brother’s achievements when he almost certainly asked his older brother his opinion of the place. What small glimpses he did take in were impressive though, a dancefloor that could easily hold a thousand people, perhaps more, lights and decorations of a tasteful and effortless class. His brother always did have a flair for the aesthetic.
Impressively the traveller made his way to the V.I.P lounge with no incidents, more notable perhaps because he was painfully under-dressed for the event and should have stuck out like a sore thumb. Even he had to admit to cheating a little bit to get this far. He knocked briskly on a solid oak door bearing the name ‘Adrian Smith, Owner’ and twisted open the door, finding it unlocked. It opened up into a plush office. The man couldn’t help noting it overlooked the dance floor, unsurprising, he thought sardonically. It seemed not much had changed, though the man behind the desk bore little resemblance to the young lad he had grown up with he recognised him immediately. Dressed in an impeccable purple suit with dyed black hair and gold rimmed sun-glasses, his brother was probably the gaudiest thing in the building. Those glasses were almost thrown from the man’s face in surprise as he took in the tired face of the man who had barged into his office.
“Lekh, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“Is that any way to greet your older brother, Adrian?” Lekh riposted with a fake smile, showing just a little too much canine and somehow managing to make his innocent reply condescending in the extreme. These things were not lost on the young man behind the desk, whose right hand seemed to stray by the drawer at his side, no doubt caressing a firearm.
“I asked you a question, how did you find me?”
“And now you have asked another. Question, that is.” Lekh replied in his amiable fashion that he knew infuriated the younger fierier Anton. Adrian looked ready to burst for a moment, before visibly calming down with a sigh through his teeth.
“Fine, whatever, what do you want?” He asked finally, getting to the real crux of their short conversation. Lekh smiled appreciatively, causing the veins on Adrian’s forehead to stand out, threatening to burst as he reined himself in again.
“Now we are getting somewhere are we not?” Lekh sat down on the side of the desk, ignoring a perfectly good chair so that he could look down on his slightly taller brother.
“Well?”
“Money, for now, couple thousand dollars should be fine. You can afford that can you not?”
“As you might have noticed I am doing pretty well for myself here, what did you think of the place?”
“The place? Oh you mean this club? So-so.”
“Dick.”
“So, the money?”
“If I give you a couple g’s you’ll fuck off?”
“Well, for a couple days maybe.”
“Deal.”
Alias: Silence
Speech Colour: bc8dbf
Character Alignment: Walking the Line (Leaning toward Villain)
Identity: Unknown
Age: Mid thirties
Appearance: Lekh’s family are marked by an unusual trait, or perhaps the opposite would be more accurate, they have incredibly nodescript features. Lekh is Caucasian and therefore fits in anywhere white people can move about without much notice. His hair is short and fairly neat and naturally brown, his eyes are naturally blue. He has an athletic build that disguises well as an average one under the right clothing, and stands at about 5ft 10”. However, one can expect Lekh to be using some form of disguise most of the time, so his appearance is probably the most variable thing about him.
Character Personality: Lekh is a master manipulator, but not the ostentatious type. He has learned that the best way to go about his business is anonymity, and it’s a very fine line to walk in order to be both likable but forgettable. Innately he is charismatic and assertive with borderline OCD and personality disorder. On the outside he’s exactly what he wants someone to see. He’s ultimately practical and not overly competitive, more likely to flee than fight if he deems the odds are against him. If one listens particularly carefully they may be able to place his accent, but he is also adept at emulating accents from TV.
Uniform/costume: Silence’s costume is ultimate disguises of all types, he has no consistent outfit or identifying costume.
Origin Info/Details: Silence is ‘fresh off the boat’ so to speak, born in Poland to a family of minor aristocrats/thieves his powers and abilities are inherited ones. For as long as his family’s history has been recorded they have always had their strange gift from the point of reaching manhood, though their skill at utilizing it has varied drastically. His father was particularly gifted, and Lekh’s abilities seem marked for greatness in their own right. The more criminal aspect of his people’s nature seems to also be a historic one, as far as records tell the first Antol was a thief first and aristocrat later, perhaps using his power to manipulate his way to success. The practice fell out of favour for some time, though as the family recently fell upon hard times in the last two centuries or so they transgressed to their criminal roots.
Hero Type (Select one): Psychic
Power Level (Select one below): Street Level
Powers (Be Specific): (Debilitating Aura) Surrounding Silence is a passive psychic aura of his own making that reaches out up to forty feet with concentration, albeit with more power closer to the source. This aura can never be completely contained, and has two main affects. On biological organisms, namely humans, it subtly weakens their mental capacity and physical attributes with more prominent affects at closer ranges for extended periods of time. In weaker willed individuals it can cause incredibly skewed decision making and forgetfulness, not unlike severe intoxication, and a slowing of reflexes and the like.
On technology of an electrical, circuitry or computerized functionality it causes significant failures, making these things unstable around Lekh. Electrical weapons like tazers may mis-fire, electromagnetic door locks may momentarily disable, and other destabilising affects. However, none of these affects are permanent, and only persist when in range of the aura.
Attributes (Select one at each category):
Strength Level: Peak Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Peak Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Peak Human
Agility: Peak Human
Intelligence: Genius
Senses: Peak Human
Fighting Skill: Trained
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Peak Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Peak Human
Agility: Peak Human
Intelligence: Genius
Senses: Peak Human
Fighting Skill: Trained
Resources: Average
Weaknesses: Human physicality and the sometimes cumbersome after-effects of his own powers preventing him using certain technology, it takes significant concentration for him to even drive or sit in a vehicle without screwing up the battery, though lower tech vehicles and the like tend to be more resistant to his aura.
Supporting Characters: Adrian Antol, Silence’s brother, less gifted with the family ‘Power’ but talented in his own ways, he’s younger than Lekh and already in Maine, he runs a nightclub in the French Quarter of Lost Haven.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Hmm.
Playlist (Courtesy of DearTrickster): https://play.spotify.com/user/deartrickster/playlist/4MFH0tg1elb1PXy6yhornr?play=true&utm_source=open.spotify.com&utm_medium=open
Sample Post (Minimum Four paragraphs containing dialogue. As this is an Advanced Level game, Sample must also meet the RPG forum's minimum requirement of 12 lines. Only for first time applicants.):
The waves lapped softly against the hull of the trawler as it glided into the harbour in the early hours of the morning. There was an eerie quiet aboard, almost harkening back to the old tales of Ghost Ships sailing into harbour unmanned. In reality there was simply few awake at such an ungodly hour and the secondary purpose of the trawler was not one that would leave one wanting to attract attention with unnecessary fan-fare. The ship was one of many that offered a service to those dissatisfied with their lot in Europe without the means or perhaps the inclination to obtain valid entry into the ‘great’ U.S.A. There were perhaps ten of them stowed away in an empty supply room barely big enough for half their number, dozing or staring into nothingness with an uneasy yet somehow hopeful expression upon their faces. The Polish man who had conspicuously earned himself more space than any of the others in one corner fell into the former category.
The ship moored at one of the more inconspicuous docking points close to the French Quarter, which was coincidentally (or perhaps not) the place where the Polish traveller wished to go. He stood up suddenly, while those around him eyed him warily. They had been together too long, the man thought sardonically, even his mask had slipped in such close quarters for such an extended period. No matter, he would be unfortunate to see them again. To say he had packed light would be an understatement, the only clothes to his name were those adorning him, a full nike tracksuit. He did have a small backpack with some less than savoury bits and pieces and some mementoes, but for the most part he was painfully under-equipped. Still, it was well within his capacity to rectify that small issue.
He escaped any boarding official’s eye upon slipping out the docks, text-book evasion by all accounts. It seemed the scant research he had carried out on the journey using newspapers and the like had served him well already, though catching up with more current events was a must. Still, he could deal with that problem when he had his feet on the ground so to speak, which meant seeking out someone he’d rather not see. His brother.
A short taxi ride to the French Quarter’s strip was more than informative, though it cost the traveller quite the head-ache reining in his more intrusive abilities. He was aware the area had more metas than any other area by population, but they were almost common-place. He was moving around at a busy time for trouble, crime was rampant in areas where people intoxicated themselves and fights were frequent. He spotted two would be vigilantes dealing with criminal elements on his way to his brother’s nightclub which was somewhat ostentatiously named ‘Eden’, they seemed fairly competent to his as yet inexperienced eye, though manageable. Further observations were cut short however by the cab pulling up outside the club. The passenger’s lack of anything resembling American currency left him in a somewhat embarrassing situation for only a moment though. With practiced skill he unleashed his reined in power, saturating the driver in near nauseating waves of his psychic aura. He handed the man a Polish bill, nodding his thanks. The cabby looked at it with a frown, shrugged, and tucked it away. The man smiled.
The club was winding down as people filtered out into the early morn, unstable and sickly intoxicated. He had little trouble meandering his way through them, neither drawing attention to himself nor giving way at any point, an interesting and somewhat contradictory set of actions only possible because of his unique set of skills. He paid little attention to his surroundings, all the better to nonchalantly dismiss his brother’s achievements when he almost certainly asked his older brother his opinion of the place. What small glimpses he did take in were impressive though, a dancefloor that could easily hold a thousand people, perhaps more, lights and decorations of a tasteful and effortless class. His brother always did have a flair for the aesthetic.
Impressively the traveller made his way to the V.I.P lounge with no incidents, more notable perhaps because he was painfully under-dressed for the event and should have stuck out like a sore thumb. Even he had to admit to cheating a little bit to get this far. He knocked briskly on a solid oak door bearing the name ‘Adrian Smith, Owner’ and twisted open the door, finding it unlocked. It opened up into a plush office. The man couldn’t help noting it overlooked the dance floor, unsurprising, he thought sardonically. It seemed not much had changed, though the man behind the desk bore little resemblance to the young lad he had grown up with he recognised him immediately. Dressed in an impeccable purple suit with dyed black hair and gold rimmed sun-glasses, his brother was probably the gaudiest thing in the building. Those glasses were almost thrown from the man’s face in surprise as he took in the tired face of the man who had barged into his office.
“Lekh, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“Is that any way to greet your older brother, Adrian?” Lekh riposted with a fake smile, showing just a little too much canine and somehow managing to make his innocent reply condescending in the extreme. These things were not lost on the young man behind the desk, whose right hand seemed to stray by the drawer at his side, no doubt caressing a firearm.
“I asked you a question, how did you find me?”
“And now you have asked another. Question, that is.” Lekh replied in his amiable fashion that he knew infuriated the younger fierier Anton. Adrian looked ready to burst for a moment, before visibly calming down with a sigh through his teeth.
“Fine, whatever, what do you want?” He asked finally, getting to the real crux of their short conversation. Lekh smiled appreciatively, causing the veins on Adrian’s forehead to stand out, threatening to burst as he reined himself in again.
“Now we are getting somewhere are we not?” Lekh sat down on the side of the desk, ignoring a perfectly good chair so that he could look down on his slightly taller brother.
“Well?”
“Money, for now, couple thousand dollars should be fine. You can afford that can you not?”
“As you might have noticed I am doing pretty well for myself here, what did you think of the place?”
“The place? Oh you mean this club? So-so.”
“Dick.”
“So, the money?”
“If I give you a couple g’s you’ll fuck off?”
“Well, for a couple days maybe.”
“Deal.”
Culluket Tertium Non Data
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Character you have created: Caroline Lewis
Alias: Babel
Speech Color: DeepPink
Character Alignment: Villain
Identity: Known
Character Personality:
Babel is entropy in action: a disaffected, destructive adrenaline junkie who now finds herself with the ability to fulfill every whim, appetite and revenge fantasy she ever had. There's no plan, no grand ambition, no long-term goal other than burning through life like a roman candle and tearing down the comfortable little illusions of a broken society. She's a one-woman circus, and everyone's getting a free ticket.
Uniform/costume:
Caroline herself is thin, her face long and a little too pale, crowned with a punkish, neglected mess of bright pink hair and glittering with a number of cheap piercings. Most of her life til now has been spent comatose in thrift store throwouts, threadbare stockings and hoodies and bad heavy metal t-shirts.
In contrast, her 'working' costume is a well-tailored carnivalesque outfit that was intended for an upmarket casino hostess: A glossy lycra catsuit the same deep, lurid pink as her hair, belted at the waist and stitched with six black diamonds in a playing card style, the ensemble completed with shoulder-length gloves and heeled over-the-knee boots in matching black patent leather. You know, like a comic book. Not practical? Maybe. But when all you have left is making an impression, why stop at the ankle?
She keeps two Glock-18 automatic pistols tucked into the belt, the slides repainted in pink and engraved in silver glitter -- one reading 'Eat Me', the other 'Drink Me'.
Origin Info/Details:
Babel was an experiment that both succeeded and failed. First a happy accident; then an unhappy one. Remember Darrow Engineering? They may be a lot of things, but they're not quitters. The loss of Dr. Gaster and xenohybrid experiment BPE-45A (Yeah. Her.) was a setback to their psionic tinkering, but while they lost the subject, they'd learned a lot. They still had a wealth of research, a clear agenda, considerable resources and powerful backers greedy or frightened enough to want that power in their hands.
With stakes that high, "ethics" is just a word.
And that's how we got the Babel project: a grand attempt to create organisms that could access and influence what they called the noosphere -- informational space. A tall order, and one that required raw material. A lot of raw material. Living material. Recidivists, junkies, the homeless; people nobody would care about or miss, supplied in secret to covert facilities by shadowy third parties or corrupt law enforcement. Deniable. Disposable. And Caroline Lewis was all of these things. A deeply troubled young woman who had lost the battle against her inner demons a long time ago and finally fallen so far down her own spiral of substance abuse and self-hatred that even the thugs she'd found shelter with had left her to overdose or die in a drunken fistfight with a moving train.
Despite her penchant for self-destruction, tests showed Lewis as one of the most promising specimens by far: in fact, she was a latent natural psychic in potentia, who only needed a touch of biological coaxing to blossom into rich, useful material for the project -- material that would then be harvested, cultured, and put to better use.
But history has a way of repeating itself. Impossibly and for no understandable reason, the subject activated before the altered brain could be removed. The half-baked specimen was unleashed, and the facility was burned out to the last living thing.
Guess they didn't learn as much as they thought.
The final punchline to this bitter joke is that the source of the girl's psychic potential is a small, anomalous brain tumor, inoperable and steadily growing, which allowed the unnatural treatment to take root, almost seeming to welcome it. By degrees, it is both twisting her brain into increasing states of mental power and ever so slowly killing her. She has a limited, stolen supply of an experimental medication, Noussphairaretroamphetamine 44 (abbreviated to Nupharamine, or just "Noose" on the black market) that stabilizes her condition and allows her to exert greater control over herself, but in one last, cruel twist of irony, the tablets are damagingly addictive when taken over an extended time, taking a toll on her even as they ease her burden.
Hero Type (Select one): Psychic
Power Level (Select one below): Street/City
Powers (Be Specific):
Psychohazard:
Babel radiates madness like an isotope. Where she goes, a whirlpool of psychic chaos goes with her, and unlike most metahumans, she doesn't so much employ her powers as try with all the willpower she can muster to keep it under control. Restrained, her influence manifests as overexposed vision and chromatic aberration, images splitting apart into flickering red, green and blue planes like a malfunctioning LCD monitor. Unleashed, her presence dramatically warps the perceptions and sanity of those around her, its intensity ranging from confusion and disorientation to mass hysteria. People collapse, scream, hallucinate, attack one another, and gradually lose control of language, regressing into an odd form of glossolalia. The closer to her epicenter one draws, the worse it becomes.
As if this weren't enough, she is vulnerable to rare, psychoactive seizures which tremendously swell the power of her abilities while completely incapacitating her control over them. Paradoxically, it is at her most vulnerable that she becomes the most dangerous.
Hallucinopath:
When in control of herself, Babel can influence the nature of the illusions she spawns, and through that, the people experiencing them. In accepting the evidence of their senses, people find themselves playing by her rules.
1.5 Second Sight:
Babel's affliction dilates her perception of time, allowing her to instinctively 'see' 0.5 to 2 seconds into the future. While so short as to be useless for planning, this expanded awareness has a critical effect on her aim, physical instincts and reaction time, giving her the appearance of having superhuman reflexes when in fact her physique is normal, and she's simply started moving a second before a shot is fired.
White Noise:
It's not that Babel is immune to mind reading; It's just that attempting to mentally probe or restrain her is like flying a light aircraft into a hurricane. To a psychic or sensitive, her mind reads as raw, lurid chaos, a raging pink vortex that doesn't repel them, but rather tries to drag them in and eat them alive.
Attributes (Select one at each category):
Strength Level: Normal human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal human speed/Uncanny reflexes (precognition)
Endurance: Normal human
Agility: Normal human/5x depending on illness and drug use.
Intelligence: Average.
Fighting Skill: Somewhat trained
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal human speed/Uncanny reflexes (precognition)
Endurance: Normal human
Agility: Normal human/5x depending on illness and drug use.
Intelligence: Average.
Fighting Skill: Somewhat trained
Resources: Minimal -- if she wasn't able to take what she wanted, she wouldn't know where her next meal was coming from.
Weaknesses:
Pyrrhic Victory: Babel's greatest strength is also her most dangerous flaw: Her own power is slowly killing her. Restraining her psychohazard ability taxes her greatly, even painfully, and though rare, her random seizures can leave her hemorrhaging, crawling on her hands and knees.
Addict: A dependance on experimental, psychoactive medication to stay in control is its own set of problems.
How Can You Challenge a Perfect, Immortal Machine: Since Babel's abilities are almost exclusively mind-affecting, robotic adversaries, drones or those otherwise completely immune to psychic influence naturally counter her main advantage, leaving her to rely on her precognition window and her capable but limited combat skill.
Supporting Characters:
Cheshire Cat: Only Babel can see or hear this taunting, elusive monster. It has to be a figment of her fevered imagination, yet it sometimes knows things it shouldn't possibly know...
Rabbit Hole gang:
The Rabbit Hole is a seedy "villain bar" frequented by C-list bad guys unlikely to ever make the big time.
Tommy Trollface: A former mob triggerman, Tommy's life was changed after an accident during a shootout in a chemical plant with a vigilante hero left his face permanently twisted into an uncanny replica of the Trollface meme. Though initially embittered, Tommy has since embraced his new persona and is even considered something of a folk hero amongst the bulk of internet culture. If he had a voice actor, it would be Gilbert Gottfried.
Professor Amstrad: After being diagnosed with terminal cancer during the height of the cold war, this brilliant scientist replaced most of his body with mechanical parts, attempting to future-proof himself using the finest cutting-edge computer technology 1981 had to offer. The result is now something both impressively ahead of its time and laughably obsolete. Though something of a laughing stock amongst the meta community, it's never wise to underestimate the old professor. He may be a stubborn traditionalist, but he is still a genius, and his assault robots are no less lethal for being made of ribbon cables and cheap plastic.
Killa Deth: A hereditary metahuman and rap artist who inherited abnormal size and comparative super-strength from his father, an unnamed superhero who didn't stick around to pay child support. Despite his name, Killa Deth is actually a chilled-out vegetarian and not given to violence. Unless you badmouth his mixtape, in which case he'll pulp your skull with his bare hands.
Professor Amstrad: After being diagnosed with terminal cancer during the height of the cold war, this brilliant scientist replaced most of his body with mechanical parts, attempting to future-proof himself using the finest cutting-edge computer technology 1981 had to offer. The result is now something both impressively ahead of its time and laughably obsolete. Though something of a laughing stock amongst the meta community, it's never wise to underestimate the old professor. He may be a stubborn traditionalist, but he is still a genius, and his assault robots are no less lethal for being made of ribbon cables and cheap plastic.
Killa Deth: A hereditary metahuman and rap artist who inherited abnormal size and comparative super-strength from his father, an unnamed superhero who didn't stick around to pay child support. Despite his name, Killa Deth is actually a chilled-out vegetarian and not given to violence. Unless you badmouth his mixtape, in which case he'll pulp your skull with his bare hands.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:
It was a warm and sunny day in the garden maze. Insects chirped happily in well-tended flower beds. Birds sang from hidden perches amongst shady trees. Dandelion blossoms floated gently on the still and breezeless air. And for mile after mile in every direction, the maze stretched out, a deep, shady labyrinth of tall, green hedges, walling it all safely in.
It was a very calm and peaceful place.
At the center of the garden, on the trim, green grass, sat a long, low table draped with a white cloth, set as though for a tea party. At its head sat a dark-haired young girl of perhaps seven, dressed in blue and white frills, the other seats filled by a number of floppy, friendly-looking stuffed toy animals arrayed in their own little chairs.
With practiced manners, the girl picked up the teapot and poured, a stream of milky, violet fluid that smelt of hospitals and antiseptic bubbling from the spout. Setting down the pot, she took the lid from the sugar bowl, which was filled with small, plastic medical tablets, pink at one end, blue at the other. She dipped her spoon and emptied the pills into her cup, stirring vacantly. It was better to have one spoonful, but sometimes she needed two, for that was simply how things were done. She took a small sip, swallowing it down. It tasted like nothing at all.
The girl, whose name was Caroline, kicked her legs under the chair, back and forth, her thoughts empty. There was no bother to think of anything. It was a lovely day and she had only to wait here until her mother came for her, which would surely not be long now.
She had just started taking another sip when there came floating through the still, warm air a smooth, beguiling voice that didn't sound like anyone she knew. Caroline looked up, blinking as surprise slowly surfaced from beneath her placid thoughts.
"Though thy slumber may be deep," it crooned, "Yet thy spirit shall not sleep; There are shades which will not vanish; There are thoughts thou canst not banish..."
The girl's head tilted curiously as a wide, bright, toothsome smile appeared at the far end of the table, bobbing along the edge of the cloth.
"...By a power to thee unknown..."
Around the smile, a cat's head faded into view, followed by a long, plump body and a swirling, question-mark tail.
"...Thou canst never be alone."
"What a curious song," observed Caroline, blinking slowly. Though she had been content here with her tea and her dear animal friends, her thoughts now felt clouded and suddenly unquiet. She struggled to speak. "Wherever did you come from, mister cat?"
"Why, nowhere." the cat replied, smiling, "The same as you."
"Oh." The girl's eyes dropped. She stared vacantly down into her rippling cup of violet liquid. Her stomach rebelled, gurgling and twitching. "I feel... ever so queer, of a sudden." she said, softly. "Not well at all."
"Truly?" the cat paced sidelong in front of her, brushing her comfortingly with its tail, in the manner of felines. "Perhaps you would feel better if you drank a little less tea."
"But it's a tea party. One must drink tea at a tea party."
"Ah? But are you drinking tea because it is a tea party, or is it merely a tea party because you are drinking tea?"
Caroline's brow creased as she wrestled with the odd question. She went to take another sip, but faltered, held back, something nagging at her fogged mind.
"...Do you suppose mother will come soon?" she asked the cat, "I must wait here until she comes to collect me. But..." she trailed off.
"Perhaps we should go and find her?" the cat got up, stretching its forepaws and arching its back contentedly. "The Caroline I know was never much fond of doing what she was told."
"But I don't know the way through the maze." the girl protested.
"But I do." the cat declared. It coiled its way around the teapot, drawing close, eyes luminous above its glowing grin. "Come with me, Caroline. The way is simple, if you know it; Not out, but through. All you need do is open your eyes, and wake up."
"I can't wake up if I'm not asleep!" she admonished.
"Well then," grinned the cat, padding right up and smiling into her face, "You must be asleep."
The girl stared.
The teacup slid from her fingers and shattered, pink and blue tablets scattering across the tablecloth.
Whoah, is it supposed to light up like--
EEG just--
The girl's eyes fluttered open.
Oh sh--
LOCKDOWN LOCKDOWN START THE BAFFLERS
There was a horrific noise, like a detuned string section being slammed into an active microphone. Pain burst through her head. A woman started screaming into an intercom. A mirror-faced hazard suit standing over her swore and staggered backward, spinning cranial saw in hand, overturning a metal tray full of vicious stainless steel instruments with a tremendous crash that didn't stop but grew louder and louder and louder, joining the tumult of shouting and the pandemonium of warped, deafening noise.
The girl sat bolt upright, tearing a respiration mask from her face and dragging a ridged rubber tube out of her mouth, retching as she felt it come up her throat, trickling violet fluid. She heaved down breaths, facing her pale, pink-haired reflection in a mirrored observation window, coughing and blinking in the sterile glare of blinding hospital spotlights. No longer a child but a young woman, slumped upon a molded surgical table in an enclosed, glistening cell of shining white tile, air thick with the overpowering smell of antiseptic, surrounded by glowing readouts that flickered on wall-mounted machines straight out of a science fiction film.
"What the f..." The room heaved to one side and she slid from the table, falling heavily to her knees, fighting the urge to throw up. "What the fuhhh..."
Everything lurched and spun. Caroline clutched at her head, choking back a scream as her brain throbbed, burning in her head and swirling outward, thick and sticky like candyfloss and fallout. One of the machines sparked and went black. Alarms started blaring from outside.
A gloved hand grabbed hold of her roughly, the faceless, white-suited surgeon pulling at her, the electric saw still whirring in his other hand. She kicked, struggled, cried out, threw the bedsheet at him in an irrational, desperate reflex. The figure panicked, shrieking and flailing at the white fabric as though it were a scorpion, driving the whining saw through it and into his leg, stabbing again and again, yelling get it off, get it off GET IT OFF ME. Blood sprayed like sawdust from a mill, painting the pristine tiles red, and still he kept slashing, hacking and babbling until he sheared through the tendons of his leg and collapsed, thrashing helplessly in a spreading scarlet pool.
Caroline struggled to get to her feet, trying to raise herself from the blood-slick floor on shaking, nerveless arms. It was happening everywhere, now. The intercom filled with bellowing, panic, madness. Facility staff were attacking one another in the corridors, shooting at things that weren't there, doubled up on the floor in fits of hysteria. The men in the security station were laughing and slapping each other on the back, convinced they were watching cartoons. The walls seemed to melt, to run like quicksilver. Her head was pounding like a cheap apartment over a shitty nightclub and she could feel her poisoned mind spilling over, expanding like a nuclear accident, contaminating every living thing it touched.
one and two are overloaded--
--cinnamon the cinnamon we have to--
Go near that door son and I will put you down without a second--
/It's on fire it's burning--
MY BABY, MY BABY'S IN THERE--
She heard gunshots, saw silhouettes in the dark mirror with each muzzle flash, bodies slumping and falling as they ran for the door to her room. There was another shower of sparks and an electronic screech before the monitors blanked out and the room was plunged into pitch darkness, bathed in red emergency lighting a second later. The corridors outside rang with tinny, hysterical laughter, clunking metal and unhinged, animal howls that couldn't have been human but were. Caroline slumped on the wet floor, laughing weakly along with them, pushed beyond endurance as her mind continued to seep like radiation out of her skull. She was Chernobyl. She was Babel. She was Babylon. It was a horror movie, and everyone was the monster.
Fala la lan-
BURN IT TORCH THE FREAKING WING IF YOU HAVE TO JUST KILL IT KILL IT NOW KIT IT RAW KOIL LO L̶A ̨X̨F͡I Ļ̨́͢͠À̡̛͡ Z̧͞O ̴̛͠͝F̴̵͏H̕̕G̨̀̕̕F͡͠í͝͠͞I̴͘͘͡į̛͢͞͞i~̴̕
There was one final gunshot.
She stood in the pouring rain and watched it burn, barefoot in a backless hospital gown, soaked to the skin. Gun in one hand, plastic bottle in the other, coastal winds beating at her remorselessly. It all looked so small from outside. Just another ugly warehouse in a row of ugly warehouses. Nothing to suggest the six levels underneath it that were now going up in greasy, colorful smoke. Nothing to hint at the shrink-wrapped bodies and the floating brains.
Caroline tore her red-rimmed eyes away from the roaring inferno, staring off into the vague glow of night. The cat's smile beckoned from a streetlight far ahead, its tail flicking idly below, and she followed, as though in a trance.
What else could she do?
It was a very calm and peaceful place.
At the center of the garden, on the trim, green grass, sat a long, low table draped with a white cloth, set as though for a tea party. At its head sat a dark-haired young girl of perhaps seven, dressed in blue and white frills, the other seats filled by a number of floppy, friendly-looking stuffed toy animals arrayed in their own little chairs.
With practiced manners, the girl picked up the teapot and poured, a stream of milky, violet fluid that smelt of hospitals and antiseptic bubbling from the spout. Setting down the pot, she took the lid from the sugar bowl, which was filled with small, plastic medical tablets, pink at one end, blue at the other. She dipped her spoon and emptied the pills into her cup, stirring vacantly. It was better to have one spoonful, but sometimes she needed two, for that was simply how things were done. She took a small sip, swallowing it down. It tasted like nothing at all.
The girl, whose name was Caroline, kicked her legs under the chair, back and forth, her thoughts empty. There was no bother to think of anything. It was a lovely day and she had only to wait here until her mother came for her, which would surely not be long now.
She had just started taking another sip when there came floating through the still, warm air a smooth, beguiling voice that didn't sound like anyone she knew. Caroline looked up, blinking as surprise slowly surfaced from beneath her placid thoughts.
"Though thy slumber may be deep," it crooned, "Yet thy spirit shall not sleep; There are shades which will not vanish; There are thoughts thou canst not banish..."
The girl's head tilted curiously as a wide, bright, toothsome smile appeared at the far end of the table, bobbing along the edge of the cloth.
"...By a power to thee unknown..."
Around the smile, a cat's head faded into view, followed by a long, plump body and a swirling, question-mark tail.
"...Thou canst never be alone."
"What a curious song," observed Caroline, blinking slowly. Though she had been content here with her tea and her dear animal friends, her thoughts now felt clouded and suddenly unquiet. She struggled to speak. "Wherever did you come from, mister cat?"
"Why, nowhere." the cat replied, smiling, "The same as you."
"Oh." The girl's eyes dropped. She stared vacantly down into her rippling cup of violet liquid. Her stomach rebelled, gurgling and twitching. "I feel... ever so queer, of a sudden." she said, softly. "Not well at all."
"Truly?" the cat paced sidelong in front of her, brushing her comfortingly with its tail, in the manner of felines. "Perhaps you would feel better if you drank a little less tea."
"But it's a tea party. One must drink tea at a tea party."
"Ah? But are you drinking tea because it is a tea party, or is it merely a tea party because you are drinking tea?"
Caroline's brow creased as she wrestled with the odd question. She went to take another sip, but faltered, held back, something nagging at her fogged mind.
"...Do you suppose mother will come soon?" she asked the cat, "I must wait here until she comes to collect me. But..." she trailed off.
"Perhaps we should go and find her?" the cat got up, stretching its forepaws and arching its back contentedly. "The Caroline I know was never much fond of doing what she was told."
"But I don't know the way through the maze." the girl protested.
"But I do." the cat declared. It coiled its way around the teapot, drawing close, eyes luminous above its glowing grin. "Come with me, Caroline. The way is simple, if you know it; Not out, but through. All you need do is open your eyes, and wake up."
"I can't wake up if I'm not asleep!" she admonished.
"Well then," grinned the cat, padding right up and smiling into her face, "You must be asleep."
The girl stared.
The teacup slid from her fingers and shattered, pink and blue tablets scattering across the tablecloth.
Whoah, is it supposed to light up like--
EEG just--
The girl's eyes fluttered open.
Oh sh--
LOCKDOWN LOCKDOWN START THE BAFFLERS
There was a horrific noise, like a detuned string section being slammed into an active microphone. Pain burst through her head. A woman started screaming into an intercom. A mirror-faced hazard suit standing over her swore and staggered backward, spinning cranial saw in hand, overturning a metal tray full of vicious stainless steel instruments with a tremendous crash that didn't stop but grew louder and louder and louder, joining the tumult of shouting and the pandemonium of warped, deafening noise.
The girl sat bolt upright, tearing a respiration mask from her face and dragging a ridged rubber tube out of her mouth, retching as she felt it come up her throat, trickling violet fluid. She heaved down breaths, facing her pale, pink-haired reflection in a mirrored observation window, coughing and blinking in the sterile glare of blinding hospital spotlights. No longer a child but a young woman, slumped upon a molded surgical table in an enclosed, glistening cell of shining white tile, air thick with the overpowering smell of antiseptic, surrounded by glowing readouts that flickered on wall-mounted machines straight out of a science fiction film.
"What the f..." The room heaved to one side and she slid from the table, falling heavily to her knees, fighting the urge to throw up. "What the fuhhh..."
Everything lurched and spun. Caroline clutched at her head, choking back a scream as her brain throbbed, burning in her head and swirling outward, thick and sticky like candyfloss and fallout. One of the machines sparked and went black. Alarms started blaring from outside.
A gloved hand grabbed hold of her roughly, the faceless, white-suited surgeon pulling at her, the electric saw still whirring in his other hand. She kicked, struggled, cried out, threw the bedsheet at him in an irrational, desperate reflex. The figure panicked, shrieking and flailing at the white fabric as though it were a scorpion, driving the whining saw through it and into his leg, stabbing again and again, yelling get it off, get it off GET IT OFF ME. Blood sprayed like sawdust from a mill, painting the pristine tiles red, and still he kept slashing, hacking and babbling until he sheared through the tendons of his leg and collapsed, thrashing helplessly in a spreading scarlet pool.
Caroline struggled to get to her feet, trying to raise herself from the blood-slick floor on shaking, nerveless arms. It was happening everywhere, now. The intercom filled with bellowing, panic, madness. Facility staff were attacking one another in the corridors, shooting at things that weren't there, doubled up on the floor in fits of hysteria. The men in the security station were laughing and slapping each other on the back, convinced they were watching cartoons. The walls seemed to melt, to run like quicksilver. Her head was pounding like a cheap apartment over a shitty nightclub and she could feel her poisoned mind spilling over, expanding like a nuclear accident, contaminating every living thing it touched.
one and two are overloaded--
--cinnamon the cinnamon we have to--
Go near that door son and I will put you down without a second--
/It's on fire it's burning--
MY BABY, MY BABY'S IN THERE--
She heard gunshots, saw silhouettes in the dark mirror with each muzzle flash, bodies slumping and falling as they ran for the door to her room. There was another shower of sparks and an electronic screech before the monitors blanked out and the room was plunged into pitch darkness, bathed in red emergency lighting a second later. The corridors outside rang with tinny, hysterical laughter, clunking metal and unhinged, animal howls that couldn't have been human but were. Caroline slumped on the wet floor, laughing weakly along with them, pushed beyond endurance as her mind continued to seep like radiation out of her skull. She was Chernobyl. She was Babel. She was Babylon. It was a horror movie, and everyone was the monster.
Fala la lan-
BURN IT TORCH THE FREAKING WING IF YOU HAVE TO JUST KILL IT KILL IT NOW KIT IT RAW KOIL LO L̶A ̨X̨F͡I Ļ̨́͢͠À̡̛͡ Z̧͞O ̴̛͠͝F̴̵͏H̕̕G̨̀̕̕F͡͠í͝͠͞I̴͘͘͡į̛͢͞͞i~̴̕
There was one final gunshot.
She stood in the pouring rain and watched it burn, barefoot in a backless hospital gown, soaked to the skin. Gun in one hand, plastic bottle in the other, coastal winds beating at her remorselessly. It all looked so small from outside. Just another ugly warehouse in a row of ugly warehouses. Nothing to suggest the six levels underneath it that were now going up in greasy, colorful smoke. Nothing to hint at the shrink-wrapped bodies and the floating brains.
Caroline tore her red-rimmed eyes away from the roaring inferno, staring off into the vague glow of night. The cat's smile beckoned from a streetlight far ahead, its tail flicking idly below, and she followed, as though in a trance.
What else could she do?
MelonHead The Fighting Fruit
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
Hunter
Codename: Hunter
Real Name: Redacted
Species: Redacted
Age: 44 (Earth years)
Appearance:
Beneath his armour, Hunter is a tall moderately well-built humanoid, he has two front facing eyes, dark grey skin and no hair. His ears are slightly pointed but he otherwise has very similar appendages to a human, except for his feet, which are webbed and made of four splayed toes. Internally he has organs that carry out pretty similar actions to a humans. His appearance is somewhat variable, as his species do have the ability to slightly alter their facial structure to mimic that of other species.
Speech Colour: Dodgerblue
Character Alignment: Hero (Self-Perception)
Identity: Unknown
Character Personality: Uncompromising, protector of the weak, scourge of the unjust and the unnatural. Compassionate for those who cannot protect themselves, but capable of acts of perceived cruelty by human standards, utilitarian would be the best description. Arrogant and prideful at his worst, noble and protective at his best.
Uniform/costume: GRP Specialist Uniform/Power Armour
Origin Info/Details: Hunter is a member of the Galactic Republic’s Peacekeeper organisation, which serves as an internal police force, secret service, counter intelligence, and pretty much all other forms of internal policing. His species are one of the many that claim membership of a galaxy wide republic within which Earth exists unknowingly. Many planets like Earth are left untouched by the Republic due to their status as a T0 borderline T1 civilisation. They usually make contact at mid T1 to T2.
As part of GRP Specialist branch, Hunter plays a unique role in that he, unsurprisingly, hunts down dangerous extra-terrestrial creatures or criminals. There is always one active Hunter, when the previous Hunter retires either by choice or by circumstance, they are replaced. He is put to work particularly when the extra-terrestrials in question are playing havoc with a civilisation incapable of dealing with them. He essentially mops up mistakes and tries to protect species like Humanity from monstrosities, not to mention quarantining diseases and infections. Earth has recently drawn the attention of the GRP due to an influx of mutated individuals and reports of extra-terrestrials breaking the rules, essentially. He’s been sent to investigate the situation and to act at his own discretion, which is usually bad news for anyone being naughty, to put things lightly.
As will be elaborated on, part of Hunter’s job is to eliminate threats without indigenous people’s recording its or his existence. In the past this was easier, many myths and legends are based off the exploits of his predecessor. George and the Dragon? Not exactly a Dragon, try mutated and very dangerous experiment that found itself discarded on Earth by a megalomaniac space pirate. Just one of many, not every myth of course, but Hunter is not the first of his profession to find themselves on Earth. However, they also have to deal with advanced societies with instant transmission of information, social media is not a phenomenon known only to Earth. He has the tools to deal with it to prevent society being changed unduly by the existence of aliens.
Hero Type (Select one):
Alien Technology/Cyborg
Power Level (Select one below):
C. World Level
Powers (Be Specific): GRP Tech
GRP Specialist Power Armour: GRP Power Armour essentially allows the user to overcome biological restrictions on strength, speed and durability. Though by no means impervious to damage, the armour can completely negate small arms fire and significantly dampen even heavy munition, it can even resist low temperatures, though it struggles with higher temperatures and the user can find themselves suffering from heat stroke if they remain within temperatures over 1000 degrees Celsius for longer than a minute. The suit is insulated from electricity and can reboot from hard shutdowns and EMPs once per minute, roughly. It can also self-repair using a finite amount of resources. Finally, it offers Short Jets which are essentially thrusters on the back of the armour which allow vertical and horizontal flight for short periods, usually between two to four minutes before a half hour recharge is required. Hunter’s armour is unique in that it comes equipped with optical camouflage, which allows him to become almost completely invisible while still, and around 80% transparent while moving at speed for periods similar to the Short Jets. They drain the same battery and share the same recharge. The suit also comes equipped with a HUD system and optical vision modes such as thermal, night vision and even limited sonar/electric vision, air filtration, shock dampeners, sound and light restrictors (preventing him being deafened or blinded by sudden overloads, though shockwaves can still hurt him and bright enough lights over sustained periods will just shut down optics completely.) There are plenty of additional functions that one would expect from a combat ready suit, it can adapt to a wide range of effects due to its specific usage.
Cybernetic Implants: Besides the Power Armour, Hunter is equipped with three implants which allow him to carry out certain actions even without the use of his armour.
Neural: The implant which accounts for his increased reflexes, his neural implant sends nervous impulses into overdrive, particularly in high stress situations, allowing to react at record speed.
Anti-Psionic: The implant which protects him from telepaths and the like, though only a rudimentary protection. It prevents his mind being read too easily, his actions being controlled, being possessed or tricked by illusion. The implant is fallible however, if placed under undue pressure it loses effectiveness over time. It provides reliable protection for about twenty seconds, so Hunter has to deal with the threat quickly.
Optical: Coupled with the neural implant, this allows his eyes to take in information at an advanced rate. He can also swap into a low-light vision mode, though for any other special type of sight he needs his power armour.
Biological: Hunter’s species can alter their facial structures to mimic that of other species, though he seldom uses this, he could in theory make himself look like a bald human, albeit with very unusual eyes and bone structure.
Weaponry: Hunter has access to an excessive amount of weapons. One only has to look at the variety of different ways humanity has found to kill each other to understand how large a galactic wide reservoir of weaponry would be. It would take too long to describe them all, but there are some he carries on his person at all times:
Mag-Tech Handgun: Similar in essence to a pistol, the advanced mechanism in this ten-shot firearm is its ability to fire both regular, sedative and magnetic ammunition. Regular ammunition is .50 calibre, the magnetic ammunition fires non-lethal rounds that stick to metallic surfaces and stick to its paired round. It is equipped with duel mags that allow for quick reloads. Sedative ammunition is what one might expect, tranquilizers of varying intensity that adjust for the mass and resistance of its target. The weapon cannot be fired by anyone but him, can be detonated at will and sticks resolutely to his palm and his side when he wishes it.
Energy Baton: An extendable baton that generates from a relatively small tube, the edge glows intensely and can generate extreme heat or sharp bursts of electricity, it is usually used in a non-lethal fashion.
Gadgets: Like his weapons, Hunter has access to a wide range of gadgets the like of which would make the average nerd break down and cry. Almost every effect one could desire for a multitude of different tactical situations can be manifested by technology at his disposal, in the immortal words of that one guy, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Some of his most common tools:
Dispersment Grenades: Doing exactly what one might expect, these innocuous objects can unleash either nauseating sound waves or noxious smells and gases that tend to cause by-passers to leave the area.
Incineration Grenades: More akin to drones, incineration grenades are used primarily to deal with infestations and other troublesome biological organisms, they can be directed using a GRP suit and detonate with varying degrees of high intensity flame and heat.
Grav-Locks: Thrown not unlike discus, the Grav-Lock is a disc which when activated can be launched at a fleeing quarry, on contact it wraps around them and generates an intense gravitational force that rapidly increases their mass, slowing them and eventually driving them to their knees. The Grav-Lock has been known to fail under extreme stress, physically powerful entities have overcome them or simply outlasted their limited battery.
Support: Hunter’s ability to requisition resources in the field in real time is arguably his greatest advantage over the monstrosities he combats. While having access to a wide range of street-level technology at a dime, such as transport, anti-personnel weaponry and other specialist gear, there are also two further levels of escalation if the situation demands it.
Kato: The penultimate escalation level, Kato is determined if a threat posed could realistically destroy the dominant species on a planet. It allows Hunter to access close fire support and orbital bombardment, glassing, and devastating hand-held weaponry.
Zeka: The final escalation level, Zeka is determined if a threat posed could realistically threaten the safety of the Galactic Republic. It allows Hunter to active a beacon in his armour that calls down a planet buster on his position. The operative is sacrificed when utilizing this weapon, so as to ensure it is not used lightly.
Attributes: Biological
Strength Level: Half Tonne
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 20mph
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 2
Agility: 5X
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Trained
Attributes: Power Armour
Strength Level: 30 tonnes dead-lift
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 150mph Sprint, 200mph Short Jets
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Nearly Infinite
Agility: 20X
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Mastered
Resources: Large, bordering on extreme, depending on how much support he can requisition from the GRP. The limitation being his resources are off world, and obviously don’t include social connections and the like, as a stranger to Earth.
Weaknesses: Heavy dependence upon fallible technology, no natural superpowers besides a minor biological face change, weakness to certain super-power types.
Supporting Characters:
GRP Supervisor: Keia
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards: Sure
Real Name: Redacted
Species: Redacted
Age: 44 (Earth years)
Appearance:
Beneath his armour, Hunter is a tall moderately well-built humanoid, he has two front facing eyes, dark grey skin and no hair. His ears are slightly pointed but he otherwise has very similar appendages to a human, except for his feet, which are webbed and made of four splayed toes. Internally he has organs that carry out pretty similar actions to a humans. His appearance is somewhat variable, as his species do have the ability to slightly alter their facial structure to mimic that of other species.
Speech Colour: Dodgerblue
Character Alignment: Hero (Self-Perception)
Identity: Unknown
Character Personality: Uncompromising, protector of the weak, scourge of the unjust and the unnatural. Compassionate for those who cannot protect themselves, but capable of acts of perceived cruelty by human standards, utilitarian would be the best description. Arrogant and prideful at his worst, noble and protective at his best.
Uniform/costume: GRP Specialist Uniform/Power Armour
Origin Info/Details: Hunter is a member of the Galactic Republic’s Peacekeeper organisation, which serves as an internal police force, secret service, counter intelligence, and pretty much all other forms of internal policing. His species are one of the many that claim membership of a galaxy wide republic within which Earth exists unknowingly. Many planets like Earth are left untouched by the Republic due to their status as a T0 borderline T1 civilisation. They usually make contact at mid T1 to T2.
As part of GRP Specialist branch, Hunter plays a unique role in that he, unsurprisingly, hunts down dangerous extra-terrestrial creatures or criminals. There is always one active Hunter, when the previous Hunter retires either by choice or by circumstance, they are replaced. He is put to work particularly when the extra-terrestrials in question are playing havoc with a civilisation incapable of dealing with them. He essentially mops up mistakes and tries to protect species like Humanity from monstrosities, not to mention quarantining diseases and infections. Earth has recently drawn the attention of the GRP due to an influx of mutated individuals and reports of extra-terrestrials breaking the rules, essentially. He’s been sent to investigate the situation and to act at his own discretion, which is usually bad news for anyone being naughty, to put things lightly.
As will be elaborated on, part of Hunter’s job is to eliminate threats without indigenous people’s recording its or his existence. In the past this was easier, many myths and legends are based off the exploits of his predecessor. George and the Dragon? Not exactly a Dragon, try mutated and very dangerous experiment that found itself discarded on Earth by a megalomaniac space pirate. Just one of many, not every myth of course, but Hunter is not the first of his profession to find themselves on Earth. However, they also have to deal with advanced societies with instant transmission of information, social media is not a phenomenon known only to Earth. He has the tools to deal with it to prevent society being changed unduly by the existence of aliens.
Hero Type (Select one):
Alien Technology/Cyborg
Power Level (Select one below):
C. World Level
Powers (Be Specific): GRP Tech
GRP Specialist Power Armour: GRP Power Armour essentially allows the user to overcome biological restrictions on strength, speed and durability. Though by no means impervious to damage, the armour can completely negate small arms fire and significantly dampen even heavy munition, it can even resist low temperatures, though it struggles with higher temperatures and the user can find themselves suffering from heat stroke if they remain within temperatures over 1000 degrees Celsius for longer than a minute. The suit is insulated from electricity and can reboot from hard shutdowns and EMPs once per minute, roughly. It can also self-repair using a finite amount of resources. Finally, it offers Short Jets which are essentially thrusters on the back of the armour which allow vertical and horizontal flight for short periods, usually between two to four minutes before a half hour recharge is required. Hunter’s armour is unique in that it comes equipped with optical camouflage, which allows him to become almost completely invisible while still, and around 80% transparent while moving at speed for periods similar to the Short Jets. They drain the same battery and share the same recharge. The suit also comes equipped with a HUD system and optical vision modes such as thermal, night vision and even limited sonar/electric vision, air filtration, shock dampeners, sound and light restrictors (preventing him being deafened or blinded by sudden overloads, though shockwaves can still hurt him and bright enough lights over sustained periods will just shut down optics completely.) There are plenty of additional functions that one would expect from a combat ready suit, it can adapt to a wide range of effects due to its specific usage.
Cybernetic Implants: Besides the Power Armour, Hunter is equipped with three implants which allow him to carry out certain actions even without the use of his armour.
Neural: The implant which accounts for his increased reflexes, his neural implant sends nervous impulses into overdrive, particularly in high stress situations, allowing to react at record speed.
Anti-Psionic: The implant which protects him from telepaths and the like, though only a rudimentary protection. It prevents his mind being read too easily, his actions being controlled, being possessed or tricked by illusion. The implant is fallible however, if placed under undue pressure it loses effectiveness over time. It provides reliable protection for about twenty seconds, so Hunter has to deal with the threat quickly.
Optical: Coupled with the neural implant, this allows his eyes to take in information at an advanced rate. He can also swap into a low-light vision mode, though for any other special type of sight he needs his power armour.
Biological: Hunter’s species can alter their facial structures to mimic that of other species, though he seldom uses this, he could in theory make himself look like a bald human, albeit with very unusual eyes and bone structure.
Weaponry: Hunter has access to an excessive amount of weapons. One only has to look at the variety of different ways humanity has found to kill each other to understand how large a galactic wide reservoir of weaponry would be. It would take too long to describe them all, but there are some he carries on his person at all times:
Mag-Tech Handgun: Similar in essence to a pistol, the advanced mechanism in this ten-shot firearm is its ability to fire both regular, sedative and magnetic ammunition. Regular ammunition is .50 calibre, the magnetic ammunition fires non-lethal rounds that stick to metallic surfaces and stick to its paired round. It is equipped with duel mags that allow for quick reloads. Sedative ammunition is what one might expect, tranquilizers of varying intensity that adjust for the mass and resistance of its target. The weapon cannot be fired by anyone but him, can be detonated at will and sticks resolutely to his palm and his side when he wishes it.
Energy Baton: An extendable baton that generates from a relatively small tube, the edge glows intensely and can generate extreme heat or sharp bursts of electricity, it is usually used in a non-lethal fashion.
Gadgets: Like his weapons, Hunter has access to a wide range of gadgets the like of which would make the average nerd break down and cry. Almost every effect one could desire for a multitude of different tactical situations can be manifested by technology at his disposal, in the immortal words of that one guy, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Some of his most common tools:
Dispersment Grenades: Doing exactly what one might expect, these innocuous objects can unleash either nauseating sound waves or noxious smells and gases that tend to cause by-passers to leave the area.
Incineration Grenades: More akin to drones, incineration grenades are used primarily to deal with infestations and other troublesome biological organisms, they can be directed using a GRP suit and detonate with varying degrees of high intensity flame and heat.
Grav-Locks: Thrown not unlike discus, the Grav-Lock is a disc which when activated can be launched at a fleeing quarry, on contact it wraps around them and generates an intense gravitational force that rapidly increases their mass, slowing them and eventually driving them to their knees. The Grav-Lock has been known to fail under extreme stress, physically powerful entities have overcome them or simply outlasted their limited battery.
Support: Hunter’s ability to requisition resources in the field in real time is arguably his greatest advantage over the monstrosities he combats. While having access to a wide range of street-level technology at a dime, such as transport, anti-personnel weaponry and other specialist gear, there are also two further levels of escalation if the situation demands it.
Kato: The penultimate escalation level, Kato is determined if a threat posed could realistically destroy the dominant species on a planet. It allows Hunter to access close fire support and orbital bombardment, glassing, and devastating hand-held weaponry.
Zeka: The final escalation level, Zeka is determined if a threat posed could realistically threaten the safety of the Galactic Republic. It allows Hunter to active a beacon in his armour that calls down a planet buster on his position. The operative is sacrificed when utilizing this weapon, so as to ensure it is not used lightly.
Attributes: Biological
Strength Level: Half Tonne
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 20mph
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 2
Agility: 5X
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Trained
Attributes: Power Armour
Strength Level: 30 tonnes dead-lift
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 150mph Sprint, 200mph Short Jets
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Nearly Infinite
Agility: 20X
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Mastered
Resources: Large, bordering on extreme, depending on how much support he can requisition from the GRP. The limitation being his resources are off world, and obviously don’t include social connections and the like, as a stranger to Earth.
Weaknesses: Heavy dependence upon fallible technology, no natural superpowers besides a minor biological face change, weakness to certain super-power types.
Supporting Characters:
GRP Supervisor: Keia
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards: Sure
Oraculum Perambulans in tenebris
Member
Seen
19 days ago
Character you have created: Johannes Schmidt
Alias: Türk Filmleri Adam
Speech Color: Saddle Brown(8B4513). (Note: italicised text from Türk Filmleri Adam and his companions is spoken in German in-universe).
Character Alignment: Walking the Line
Identity: Secret
Character Personality: It would perhaps not be entirely accurate to describe Johannes as a modern hedonist, were it only for the fact that he lacks most of the glaring traits and habits commonly associated with that archetype; however, upon deeper reflection, it becomes apparent that there is simply no better definition to be given of him. There is little he truly cares for beyond his own, unconditional enjoyment. That said, he is neither so egoistic as not to include those few who have attained the privilege of his friendship and esteem into this aspiration, nor so weak-willed as to let himself be entirely mastered by his lusts, or to allow himself any sorts of the latter beyond the tamest ones. He sets pleasure as foremost among his goals in life; yet he does not mindlessly crawl toward it as many other do, nor lash himself into a frenzy which he then strives to assuage at any cost, but is capable of constructing logical and sufficiently elaborate plans to reach that end.
His demeanour is, in spite of the latter trait, not quite affected. Honest to the point of bluntness, abhorring as he does misunderstandings and quid pro quos, Johannes shall never hesitate to face whatever situation he might find himself stumbling into, exhibiting a bravado bordering with foolhardiness and an often uncalled-for flair for the dramatic in any conceivable circumstances. Such perilous traits are compounded by an almost unnaturally unshakable indifference to stimuli which would normally cause fear or anguish, seemingly acquired by Johannes along with his powers.
Uniform/costume:
Johannes has adopted as his makeshift costume a horrendous patchwork of scraps, cardboard and adhesive tape, completed by what seems to be a repurposed curtain and a clumsily glued-on false beard, to reflect his favoured pastime. He usually wields a short wooden javelin wrapped in colourful paper and a golden cardboard sword:
When not donning his heroic paraphernalia, he appears as the very epitome of the average youthful Mitteleuropean type, with nondescriptly light-brown hair and vaguely greyish eyes; more often than not, he wears cheap, anonymous sport-style clothing.
Origin Info/Details:
Johannes Schmidt was born in Berlin as the neighbouring Deutsche Demokratische Republik was breathing its last, and the entire country whereof he was a citizen was clamouring for the long-awaited unification which was finally at hand. It might have been that these events occurred too early in his life to leave any lasting impression, or that he soon felt he had had quite enough of them; however it might be, never in his life would he display any measure of national pride, or any other feeling, for that matter, nor would he regard politics with anything but slightly amused bafflement at the importance attributed to such fundamentally abstract matters.
As the Schmidts were a moderately well-to-do family, their latest offspring lacked nothing in the way of basic necessities, and had the possibility to trudge his way through the education system up to graduating in History at the Freie Universität. Though he never displayed a particular aptitude for academic learning, he compensated for his lack of exceptional skills with a diligent, disciplined approach to study, fuelled by the belief that it would all pay off someday. Though such an opinion was not altogether unjustified, the reward for these years of application was not as swift in arriving as Johannes expected, and throughout his first autonomous years he found himself drifting from one clerk-level occupation to another, ever seeking a suitable opportunity to rise through the ranks and ever being met with an indefinitely long, blind routine which left him quite discontented with the world at large and the employment sector in particular. It was at that time that he met Nejat Gucli and Turan Ahmad, his peers in age and position, whose Turkish descent had grown largely diluted by generations of more or less steady integration, reaching, they averred, back to the times of Friedrich the Great himself. Sympathy, first comradely, then personal soon sprang up between Johannes and the pair, and it was not long ere they introduced him to the ruling passion which had first united them, and soon captured him as well - namely, the somewhat perverse enjoyment of turksploitation films. Sitting till late at night before a smudged screen in Nejat and Turan’s apartment, Johannes nearly laughed himself ill at the inconceivable gymnastics of clumsily costumed actors whose expressive repertoire consisted entirely of fearsome grimaces, and swore repeatedly that there never could be enough pictures of that sort in the world. This marked the beginning of an enduring friendship between the trio, who rapidly grew inseparable - a condition which, among other things, offered distinct economic advantages, as the rent was paid collectively.
Then, one night, the unexpected occurred. Upon returning from the last workplace he had established himself at, Johannes happened to be strolling through a park, which, fortunately enough, lay directly across his path. Catching sight of a small, glimmering object on the ground before him, he bent to retrieve what seemed to be a coin, and was surprised when the minute item proved unexpectedly heavy and unaccountably cold to the touch. Upon closer scrutiny, he saw what he had lifted was indeed a metallic disk of some sort, but certainly not a monetary unit of any sort he was familiar with. The shining surface was a of a cerulean-veiled white in colour, and bands of iridescent light ran across it without any regularity or, indeed, motive. At that moment, he became aware of a chilling numbness spreading through his arm, and had barely enough time to be afraid before a sudden electric shock enveloped his mind and senses with impenetrable darkness.
Of what followed Johannes has but a dim recollection. He recalls awakening and passing out again at brief intervals, almost intermittently, in an environment whose appearance he has described as vaguely resembling a grimy, long-abandoned airport in a severe state of disrepair. Large greyish-green shapes often flitted at the corners of his vision which he is almost certain were living creatures, and he could have sworn that he occasionally heard, among the humming, rasping and clattering of machinery, grunting sounds of distinctly organic origin. He frequently found himself strapped to flat surfaces (it was unclear whether they were horizontal or vertical) surrounded by spinning lamps of indescribable colours, or at the core of vast, thundering mechanical constructs of unclear functions. Finally, he awoke facing a screen whereupon there appeared, in a slow, laborious sequence, a series of sentences written in what appeared to be a curious form of semi-phonetic English. UMIN YUR OGGANIZMS MENTOTIC POTANSHUL AZ BIN ALTRT flared the letters before him, mingling monstrous spelling with outright nonexistent words, YU WL UZIT AN MEK UZ SI | YU KEN. Thereupon a shock identical to the one which had heralded his arrival into that nightmare shot through him again, and, when next he regained consciousness, he was in the park where he first had stumbled upon the fateful coin-like lure.
His return home was met with astonishment, and he was informed by Nejat and Turan that he had been missing for a full week. Having initially devised a feeble alibi involving a deceased uncle, he was soon constrained to disclose to his friends what had truly transpired upon beginning to manifest certain startling abilities. Although he did not perceive anything unusual even while doing so, he frequently found himself telekinetically manipulating distant items with a mere effort of will, often unconsciously and without being in the least surprised by it himself. Additionally, at times he uncontrollably blasted images he was mentally envisioning into the senses of others, with his companions being the first collateral victims of this nascent power. It was not long before Johannes, who had recovered from the shock of his experience in startlingly little time, discovered that, by exerting his will, he was able to harness these abilities and direct them coherently, as well as to modify their effects as he pleased. In particular, seeing as he had grown able to select what images he projected into the minds of his targets, he adopted the psychic display of his beloved Turkish abject-series films as the signature of the image he had been building for himself - Türk Filmleri Adam (roughly “Turkish Film Man”), Berlin’s first resident superhero.
As the city had heretofore never known the salutary influence of superhuman protection, this figure, zealously assisted by Nejat and Turan, who met the opportunity of becoming Türk Filmleri Adam’s sidekicks with nothing short of glee, was in no shortage of occupations. However, his intents were not so pure as to warrant his diving headfirst into action. Rather, his priority was to negotiate a deal with the authorities, by which he would track malfeasants and consign them to justice - for a reasonable price. Nor was this partnership exclusive: Johannes thought little of selling his services to the highest bidder, even when the latter was a company seeking to instil dread into trade unions or accomplish some similarly morally dubious goal. The treatment which had granted Johannes his abilities appeared to have made him strangely callous, insofar as even the deaths of his parents due to illness did not seem to affect him. His friends, already not being especially idealistic individuals themselves, took his new demeanour in stride, as it was not reflected upon their relations.
After a couple of years, however, business began to grow scarce, and the days dull. Those of the most significant criminals who had not been neutralised, such as the local cell of one Shroud Syndicate, had gone into hiding beyond Türk Filmleri Adam’s rather clumsy reach, and the discipline reigning in the private sector was exemplary. Johannes and his companions had grown accustomed to adventure, and, being deprived of it, they began to cast their gazes toward more promising lands. On the other side of the ocean they had often heard that superhumans abounded, and, when Turan discovered that the city of New Sardis was (roughly) quite close to the areas of highest interest and offered some of the cheapest real estate they had ever seen, all doubts concerning their plans for the immediate future were dissolved.
Hero Type: Psychic
Power Level: City Level
Powers:
Mental Projection
The favoured offensive ability of Türk Filmleri Adam, this application of his skills enables him to subject his targets to specially conjured mental images by psychically affecting their sensory reception neural nodes. Those in the grip of this power find themselves experiencing entirely life-like visions, perceived as though they were themselves an integrating part thereof. Projections do not render their subjects unconscious, but usually leave them unable to act due to severe mental and physical disorientation and a painful strain upon the neural network (not to mention shock at the horrid nonsense they are forced to witness); prolonged exposure may result in permanent neural and psychological damage. The visions' end is as abrupt as their beginning, provoking nausea and a reeling sensation. Türk Filmleri Adam may extend his projections upon any number of individuals within his field of vision; however, he must maintain concentration in order for the effect to last, and tampering with the senses larger quantities of targets demands a proportionally greater effort.
Rudimentary Telekinesis
With a mere exertion of his will, Türk Filmleri Adam is able to affect physical bodies at a distance, thrusting them away from himself, pulling them in his direction or lifting them from whatever surface they might be resting upon. While the raw potential of this capability is impressive, it is unsuited for any sort of fine manipulation or actions requiring a grip lasting longer than two or three seconds.
Kinetic Armament
Türk Filmleri Adam's costume and weapons, being composed of harmless household materials, are scarcely a combat asset in their own right. However, by surrounding them with a malleable telekinetic field of compressed force and air, their wielder can grant them lacerating edges and sufficient toughness to withstand impacts equivalent to medium-calibre gunfire, though without entirely suppressing the ensuing vibrations. These enhancements require a moderate effort to activate, and last for as long as their generator remains actively conscious of them (thus, rendering him unconscious or entirely distracting his attention would cause them to fade).
Dünyayi Kurtaran Adam
In critical circumstances where his powers should result insufficient to fend off danger, Türk Filmleri Adam may, with a potent application of willpower, temporarily refine his telekinetic capabilities, becoming able to alter matter at a sub-molecular level. While thus empowered, he can atomically translocate his body, effectively teleporting across brief distances, disrupt the structure of inorganic matter, causing items to violently explode, and even concentrate light into blinding flashes. Upholding such a state is tremendously exacting, and it is impossible for a human of average resilience to prolong its effects for more than ten minutes.
Attributes:
Resources: Average
Weaknesses:
Human, All Too Human
For all his modified “mentotic potential”, Johannes remains a human being, and not an extraordinarily strong or clever one at that. He is no more invulnerable to wounds, diseases and various mishaps than any other person off the street.
The Limits of Faith
A curious aspect of the powers Johannes has been endowed with is the fact that they are fuelled by his own belief in what they can accomplish. Thus, any application thereof of whose success he is not entirely assured will prove ineffectual, even though it might have been theoretically plausible.
Power Tends to Tire
As mentioned, activating Johannes's psychic abilities requires an effort of will. Although the fatigue toll may initially seem negligible, it gradually waxes increasingly draining, and lengthy usage will often leave him exhausted.
Supporting Characters:
Nejat Gucli and Turan Ahmad: Johannes's long-time friends and, more recently, assistants in super-heroic endeavour, Nejat and Turan's characters seem to be pre-ordinately congenial to him and each other alike, sharing the same enjoyment-driven inclinations and cinematographical preferences. The main difference between the two's personalities lies in their attitudes: while Turan is usually more proactive (though this is a comparative term), Nejat bears a pronounced antipathy toward the very concept of effort, though, when hard-pressed, he has demonstrated a certain aptitude for lateral thinking.
The Experimenters: The mysterious beings responsible for abducting Johannes and endowing him with superhuman powers as a result of a not better described process (or “fiddling”, if one is less than lenient). Johannes himself knows nothing regarding them, though he suspects they might be of extra-terrestrial origin, if for no other reason than the outlandish appearance of their machinery.
Locations:
New Sardis
Located across from Newport, Rhode Island, across Narragansett Bay, New Sardis was once one of the most relevant portual cities in the region. However, failure to modernise and a gradual decline in its position’s commercial importance have led to its progressive decay, moderated only lately by a number of service-providing companies taking an interest in its few, yet noteworthy investment opportunities. Nowadays, New Sardis is infamous for its dramatically under-staffed and ineffectual administration and police force; nonetheless, its legal infraction rate is astonishingly low for mysterious reasons, and organised criminality is limited to a negligible handful of street gangs within its boundaries (though the occasional disappearance tends to arouse suspicions on this matter).
Architecturally, the city reflects its recent erratic and almost haphazard development. Towers of glass and steel are often flanked by anachronistic pre-Edwardian houses, and the few piers still in use lie alongside numerous promontories of decaying wood.
Notable Features:
Saint Albertus Magnus Cathedral: A Catholic anomaly among New England’s sober Puritan temples, this imposing Gothic structure stands in the very centre of the city. Though both the Cathedral and the vast adjoining graveyard ought to be periodically restored by the urban authorities, the latter’s prolonged inactivity has enabled them to fall into such a state of sinister decrepitude that they tend to be fearfully shunned. Upon the Cathedral’s façade one can still barely discern the curious inscription “SOMNVS RATIONIS MONSTRA GENERAT”.
The Docklands: Once the city’s greatest hub of activity, the Docklands have long since degenerated into a veritable open-air slum, where New Sardis’s homeless population gathers in abandoned warehouses and it is deemed unsafe to pass with any valuables upon one’s person, lest these valuables unaccountably disappear. The few intact quays seem to be used solely for Aegis industrial shipments.
Istvan's Dragon: Since the end of World War II, the only enduring criminal element in New Sardis was that of outlaw biker clubs, ranging from free-spirited rebels to brutal thugs. Though local and small in size, they were numerous and, with the gradual decay of the city's police force, their influence became anything but invisible. Somewhere around the late 60's, the notorious drive bar known as Istvan's Dragon came to be, founded by an Eastern European immigrant. Located near in the Docklands, at the back of a small unimportant harbor, said establishment commonly served as a place for negotiations between different clubs, as well as a melting pot of all sorts of characters from the fringes of society over the years, until the eventual bloodbath that occurred in the early 90's. The Istvan Massacre was sparked by the rising tension between two rival clubs, leading to thirty casualties, seventeen of them being otherwise innocent patrons. The bar never recovered, and was left abandoned ever since. Along with the surrounding dock, it is now a sort of no man's land, as unwritten rules render it a sanctuary, prohibiting any sort of violence within it. Even law enforcement is wise enough to respect this condition. Despite its seemingly useful nature, the area remains abandoned, sparking urban legends of hauntings.
(Contribution by @Turbowraith)
“Atlantis” State Aquarium: New Sardis’s only possible tourist attraction, the Aquarium, built on local State funds with the backing of certain private bodies, is fitted with some of the most advanced equipment in its field. This has allowed for some daring experiments, such as the rare success of keeping giant cephalopods in captivity. The investment has proved fruitful, yielding large sums in the guise of admission fees and the sale of assorted merchandise.
Aegis Incorporated Complex: At some distance beyond the suburbs, surrounded by a stretch of forbidding wasteland, lies the ominous black citadel which serves simultaneously as headquarters, production plant and research establishment for the shadowy Aegis Inc. This comparatively young company, specialising in bellic and defensive technology, is said to have rapidly acquired a redoubtable power base, and, despite taking no interest in New Sardis itself, is almost universally dreaded by its inhabitants.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:
Sample Post:
For days, the leaden sky which menacingly loomed over them, notwithstanding their steady motion - truth be told, at a velocity which would be deemed unacceptably low whence they had come, owing to the unfamiliar driving practices with which most visiting continentals were constrained to come to grips with - across the rather bleak landscape, had failed to deliver upon its threat of precipitation, which might have prompted them to jot down a note concerning the matter of “dispelling popular misconceptions about...”, had they been ever so rash in making assumptions (which they were) and actually interested in such an endeavour (which they were not). Notwithstanding the lack of sociological aspirations, they had unanimously concluded that the much-reviled Albionic climate might be better, or at least could not be quite so much worse than the only one they had hitherto known.
“Weren’t you thinking the same?” Johannes inquired, without, however, turning to face his companion.
“What?” the latter listlessly replied, in a tone dulled by a lengthy period of sitting and gazing before himself. One could, of course, argue that he had not been effectively doing anything beyond that, but that would probably elicited little more than genuine incomprehension.
“I say, that it has rained the entire time we were in Germany since we left, and some days before that, but not for a single hour while we have been here.”
“And Belgium.”
“What?”
“It’s also rained in Belgium.”
“Not in France, though.”
“A bit after the border, it did. What were you saying there, again?”
“No, I was saying, it seems to rain less here than in Germany, doesn’t it?”
“Could be. I think it also depends on the season. Don’t you remember we had a completely dry summer in Thüringen?”
“But that’s Thüringen.”
Having thus apparently exhausted their stimulating conversational subject, the pair finally exchanged a weary glance, then simultaneously turned backwards for a brief moment and eyed the sleeping Nejat with a hint of envy. The third member of their diminutive party lay all but sprawled on the back seat of the slightly battered automobile, amid rucksacks and satchels of varying sizes and colours, leaning toward the less tasteful end of the spectrum, with his feet a mere few inches away from resting upon an already abundantly scratched suitcase. His fellow-travellers found this all the more outrageous as he had not in the least contributed to their progress through virtually half of the (semi)continent, nor to the journey from Dover to Southampton, and yet was able to blissfully slumber for a length of time which would have put a sloth to shame, whereas neither Johannes, who steered the unreasonably crammed vehicle, nor Turan, who attempted to navigate their way by cycling through a series of maps, with the predictable result of frequently driving them to meander in such parts as they would never have dreamt of visiting, were able to enjoy a night’s rest without spinning about and repeatedly rising to raise or lower the blinds for some two hours beforehand. The final pause before the ferry boarding could have finally allowed them some respite before nearly a week of struggling against sea-sickness, yet even now they seemed to be unable to do anything but trade inconsequential remarks concerning the weather. How else could it be? The topic of their preliminary plans was already spent, and it was as yet too early to begin actually pondering their execution.
All of a sudden, a rap against the glass by his head startled Johannes from the slumber he had been, in spite of all, drifting into. Not a little irritated, he lowered it and turned to face the whiskered countenance of the customs officer peering from beyond it.
“What is it, my good man?” he asked, not immediately realising that his impromptu usage of a rather colloquial expression had yielded a potentially offensive result. Not that it would have concerned him, but it was somewhat embarrassing for being unintended.
“Excuse me, sir,” the man began quite civilly, probably not being altogether inexperienced in interacting with foreigners, “Your vehicle looks like it might be exceeding the weight limit.” Was its crammed state quite so visible? Most likely. Meanwhile, the boarding queue was beginning to move forth - and they were being detained by this overly zealous, or thus it seemed to him, fellow.
“I assure you that we have passed all necessary controls. Here, we have these tickets they give there. Turan, do you...”
But Turan had drifted away into a tranquil slumber. Curse him, could he think of no better moment? Johannes began hastily rooting through the sheaf of various printed pages - mostly maps - in his lap. Where could he have buried them? Before them, the path onto the vessel was now empty. Ah, that was quite enough. No more of this nonsense.
“Sir, do you have the...”
Johannes abruptly turned toward the mustachioed intruder and, gazing fixedly into his eyes, which made him stagger back in surprise, theatrically raised his right hand, with the palm stretched outwards. This gesture was functionally unnecessary, but what was life without a little flavour? He focused his mental energies upon the figure before him and, almost envisioning the outline of its psychic nucleus, hurled at it a brief sequence of visions - nothing especially astounding, but enough to serve their purpose.
The man staggered, flailing his arms as though he had suddenly lost his sight and were attempting to clutch it before it flew away. Failing to grasp any solid object, he nearly collapsed, but was able to moderate his fall by crouching with what seemed to be a supreme effort. After about a minute, the expression of his eyes grew slightly less wild, and he saw that the potentially overloaded automobile had already vanished beyond the ascension ramp. Rising totteringly to his full height, he waved reassuringly at the other drivers, who were looking at him with some concern, and moved toward his position with quivering steps.
Aboard the ship, Johannes smiled to himself with a hint of triumph. Petty, admittedly, but was life not likewise composed of simple pleasures? His mouth still set in its twisted shape, he let his thoughts hasten forwards. Soon, he would have crossed the ocean, and then the true merriment would begin. A world of adventure lay ahead.
Alias: Türk Filmleri Adam
Speech Color: Saddle Brown(8B4513). (Note: italicised text from Türk Filmleri Adam and his companions is spoken in German in-universe).
Character Alignment: Walking the Line
Identity: Secret
Character Personality: It would perhaps not be entirely accurate to describe Johannes as a modern hedonist, were it only for the fact that he lacks most of the glaring traits and habits commonly associated with that archetype; however, upon deeper reflection, it becomes apparent that there is simply no better definition to be given of him. There is little he truly cares for beyond his own, unconditional enjoyment. That said, he is neither so egoistic as not to include those few who have attained the privilege of his friendship and esteem into this aspiration, nor so weak-willed as to let himself be entirely mastered by his lusts, or to allow himself any sorts of the latter beyond the tamest ones. He sets pleasure as foremost among his goals in life; yet he does not mindlessly crawl toward it as many other do, nor lash himself into a frenzy which he then strives to assuage at any cost, but is capable of constructing logical and sufficiently elaborate plans to reach that end.
His demeanour is, in spite of the latter trait, not quite affected. Honest to the point of bluntness, abhorring as he does misunderstandings and quid pro quos, Johannes shall never hesitate to face whatever situation he might find himself stumbling into, exhibiting a bravado bordering with foolhardiness and an often uncalled-for flair for the dramatic in any conceivable circumstances. Such perilous traits are compounded by an almost unnaturally unshakable indifference to stimuli which would normally cause fear or anguish, seemingly acquired by Johannes along with his powers.
Uniform/costume:
Johannes has adopted as his makeshift costume a horrendous patchwork of scraps, cardboard and adhesive tape, completed by what seems to be a repurposed curtain and a clumsily glued-on false beard, to reflect his favoured pastime. He usually wields a short wooden javelin wrapped in colourful paper and a golden cardboard sword:
When not donning his heroic paraphernalia, he appears as the very epitome of the average youthful Mitteleuropean type, with nondescriptly light-brown hair and vaguely greyish eyes; more often than not, he wears cheap, anonymous sport-style clothing.
Origin Info/Details:
Johannes Schmidt was born in Berlin as the neighbouring Deutsche Demokratische Republik was breathing its last, and the entire country whereof he was a citizen was clamouring for the long-awaited unification which was finally at hand. It might have been that these events occurred too early in his life to leave any lasting impression, or that he soon felt he had had quite enough of them; however it might be, never in his life would he display any measure of national pride, or any other feeling, for that matter, nor would he regard politics with anything but slightly amused bafflement at the importance attributed to such fundamentally abstract matters.
As the Schmidts were a moderately well-to-do family, their latest offspring lacked nothing in the way of basic necessities, and had the possibility to trudge his way through the education system up to graduating in History at the Freie Universität. Though he never displayed a particular aptitude for academic learning, he compensated for his lack of exceptional skills with a diligent, disciplined approach to study, fuelled by the belief that it would all pay off someday. Though such an opinion was not altogether unjustified, the reward for these years of application was not as swift in arriving as Johannes expected, and throughout his first autonomous years he found himself drifting from one clerk-level occupation to another, ever seeking a suitable opportunity to rise through the ranks and ever being met with an indefinitely long, blind routine which left him quite discontented with the world at large and the employment sector in particular. It was at that time that he met Nejat Gucli and Turan Ahmad, his peers in age and position, whose Turkish descent had grown largely diluted by generations of more or less steady integration, reaching, they averred, back to the times of Friedrich the Great himself. Sympathy, first comradely, then personal soon sprang up between Johannes and the pair, and it was not long ere they introduced him to the ruling passion which had first united them, and soon captured him as well - namely, the somewhat perverse enjoyment of turksploitation films. Sitting till late at night before a smudged screen in Nejat and Turan’s apartment, Johannes nearly laughed himself ill at the inconceivable gymnastics of clumsily costumed actors whose expressive repertoire consisted entirely of fearsome grimaces, and swore repeatedly that there never could be enough pictures of that sort in the world. This marked the beginning of an enduring friendship between the trio, who rapidly grew inseparable - a condition which, among other things, offered distinct economic advantages, as the rent was paid collectively.
Then, one night, the unexpected occurred. Upon returning from the last workplace he had established himself at, Johannes happened to be strolling through a park, which, fortunately enough, lay directly across his path. Catching sight of a small, glimmering object on the ground before him, he bent to retrieve what seemed to be a coin, and was surprised when the minute item proved unexpectedly heavy and unaccountably cold to the touch. Upon closer scrutiny, he saw what he had lifted was indeed a metallic disk of some sort, but certainly not a monetary unit of any sort he was familiar with. The shining surface was a of a cerulean-veiled white in colour, and bands of iridescent light ran across it without any regularity or, indeed, motive. At that moment, he became aware of a chilling numbness spreading through his arm, and had barely enough time to be afraid before a sudden electric shock enveloped his mind and senses with impenetrable darkness.
Of what followed Johannes has but a dim recollection. He recalls awakening and passing out again at brief intervals, almost intermittently, in an environment whose appearance he has described as vaguely resembling a grimy, long-abandoned airport in a severe state of disrepair. Large greyish-green shapes often flitted at the corners of his vision which he is almost certain were living creatures, and he could have sworn that he occasionally heard, among the humming, rasping and clattering of machinery, grunting sounds of distinctly organic origin. He frequently found himself strapped to flat surfaces (it was unclear whether they were horizontal or vertical) surrounded by spinning lamps of indescribable colours, or at the core of vast, thundering mechanical constructs of unclear functions. Finally, he awoke facing a screen whereupon there appeared, in a slow, laborious sequence, a series of sentences written in what appeared to be a curious form of semi-phonetic English. UMIN YUR OGGANIZMS MENTOTIC POTANSHUL AZ BIN ALTRT flared the letters before him, mingling monstrous spelling with outright nonexistent words, YU WL UZIT AN MEK UZ SI | YU KEN. Thereupon a shock identical to the one which had heralded his arrival into that nightmare shot through him again, and, when next he regained consciousness, he was in the park where he first had stumbled upon the fateful coin-like lure.
His return home was met with astonishment, and he was informed by Nejat and Turan that he had been missing for a full week. Having initially devised a feeble alibi involving a deceased uncle, he was soon constrained to disclose to his friends what had truly transpired upon beginning to manifest certain startling abilities. Although he did not perceive anything unusual even while doing so, he frequently found himself telekinetically manipulating distant items with a mere effort of will, often unconsciously and without being in the least surprised by it himself. Additionally, at times he uncontrollably blasted images he was mentally envisioning into the senses of others, with his companions being the first collateral victims of this nascent power. It was not long before Johannes, who had recovered from the shock of his experience in startlingly little time, discovered that, by exerting his will, he was able to harness these abilities and direct them coherently, as well as to modify their effects as he pleased. In particular, seeing as he had grown able to select what images he projected into the minds of his targets, he adopted the psychic display of his beloved Turkish abject-series films as the signature of the image he had been building for himself - Türk Filmleri Adam (roughly “Turkish Film Man”), Berlin’s first resident superhero.
As the city had heretofore never known the salutary influence of superhuman protection, this figure, zealously assisted by Nejat and Turan, who met the opportunity of becoming Türk Filmleri Adam’s sidekicks with nothing short of glee, was in no shortage of occupations. However, his intents were not so pure as to warrant his diving headfirst into action. Rather, his priority was to negotiate a deal with the authorities, by which he would track malfeasants and consign them to justice - for a reasonable price. Nor was this partnership exclusive: Johannes thought little of selling his services to the highest bidder, even when the latter was a company seeking to instil dread into trade unions or accomplish some similarly morally dubious goal. The treatment which had granted Johannes his abilities appeared to have made him strangely callous, insofar as even the deaths of his parents due to illness did not seem to affect him. His friends, already not being especially idealistic individuals themselves, took his new demeanour in stride, as it was not reflected upon their relations.
After a couple of years, however, business began to grow scarce, and the days dull. Those of the most significant criminals who had not been neutralised, such as the local cell of one Shroud Syndicate, had gone into hiding beyond Türk Filmleri Adam’s rather clumsy reach, and the discipline reigning in the private sector was exemplary. Johannes and his companions had grown accustomed to adventure, and, being deprived of it, they began to cast their gazes toward more promising lands. On the other side of the ocean they had often heard that superhumans abounded, and, when Turan discovered that the city of New Sardis was (roughly) quite close to the areas of highest interest and offered some of the cheapest real estate they had ever seen, all doubts concerning their plans for the immediate future were dissolved.
Hero Type: Psychic
Power Level: City Level
Powers:
Mental Projection
The favoured offensive ability of Türk Filmleri Adam, this application of his skills enables him to subject his targets to specially conjured mental images by psychically affecting their sensory reception neural nodes. Those in the grip of this power find themselves experiencing entirely life-like visions, perceived as though they were themselves an integrating part thereof. Projections do not render their subjects unconscious, but usually leave them unable to act due to severe mental and physical disorientation and a painful strain upon the neural network (not to mention shock at the horrid nonsense they are forced to witness); prolonged exposure may result in permanent neural and psychological damage. The visions' end is as abrupt as their beginning, provoking nausea and a reeling sensation. Türk Filmleri Adam may extend his projections upon any number of individuals within his field of vision; however, he must maintain concentration in order for the effect to last, and tampering with the senses larger quantities of targets demands a proportionally greater effort.
Rudimentary Telekinesis
With a mere exertion of his will, Türk Filmleri Adam is able to affect physical bodies at a distance, thrusting them away from himself, pulling them in his direction or lifting them from whatever surface they might be resting upon. While the raw potential of this capability is impressive, it is unsuited for any sort of fine manipulation or actions requiring a grip lasting longer than two or three seconds.
Kinetic Armament
Türk Filmleri Adam's costume and weapons, being composed of harmless household materials, are scarcely a combat asset in their own right. However, by surrounding them with a malleable telekinetic field of compressed force and air, their wielder can grant them lacerating edges and sufficient toughness to withstand impacts equivalent to medium-calibre gunfire, though without entirely suppressing the ensuing vibrations. These enhancements require a moderate effort to activate, and last for as long as their generator remains actively conscious of them (thus, rendering him unconscious or entirely distracting his attention would cause them to fade).
Dünyayi Kurtaran Adam
In critical circumstances where his powers should result insufficient to fend off danger, Türk Filmleri Adam may, with a potent application of willpower, temporarily refine his telekinetic capabilities, becoming able to alter matter at a sub-molecular level. While thus empowered, he can atomically translocate his body, effectively teleporting across brief distances, disrupt the structure of inorganic matter, causing items to violently explode, and even concentrate light into blinding flashes. Upholding such a state is tremendously exacting, and it is impossible for a human of average resilience to prolong its effects for more than ten minutes.
Attributes:
Height: 5’7’’
Weight: 172 lb.
Strength Level: Normal Human / Up to about 5 tons with telekinesis
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Normal Human
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Weight: 172 lb.
Strength Level: Normal Human / Up to about 5 tons with telekinesis
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Normal Human
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Resources: Average
Weaknesses:
Human, All Too Human
For all his modified “mentotic potential”, Johannes remains a human being, and not an extraordinarily strong or clever one at that. He is no more invulnerable to wounds, diseases and various mishaps than any other person off the street.
The Limits of Faith
A curious aspect of the powers Johannes has been endowed with is the fact that they are fuelled by his own belief in what they can accomplish. Thus, any application thereof of whose success he is not entirely assured will prove ineffectual, even though it might have been theoretically plausible.
Power Tends to Tire
As mentioned, activating Johannes's psychic abilities requires an effort of will. Although the fatigue toll may initially seem negligible, it gradually waxes increasingly draining, and lengthy usage will often leave him exhausted.
Supporting Characters:
Nejat Gucli and Turan Ahmad: Johannes's long-time friends and, more recently, assistants in super-heroic endeavour, Nejat and Turan's characters seem to be pre-ordinately congenial to him and each other alike, sharing the same enjoyment-driven inclinations and cinematographical preferences. The main difference between the two's personalities lies in their attitudes: while Turan is usually more proactive (though this is a comparative term), Nejat bears a pronounced antipathy toward the very concept of effort, though, when hard-pressed, he has demonstrated a certain aptitude for lateral thinking.
The Experimenters: The mysterious beings responsible for abducting Johannes and endowing him with superhuman powers as a result of a not better described process (or “fiddling”, if one is less than lenient). Johannes himself knows nothing regarding them, though he suspects they might be of extra-terrestrial origin, if for no other reason than the outlandish appearance of their machinery.
Locations:
New Sardis
Located across from Newport, Rhode Island, across Narragansett Bay, New Sardis was once one of the most relevant portual cities in the region. However, failure to modernise and a gradual decline in its position’s commercial importance have led to its progressive decay, moderated only lately by a number of service-providing companies taking an interest in its few, yet noteworthy investment opportunities. Nowadays, New Sardis is infamous for its dramatically under-staffed and ineffectual administration and police force; nonetheless, its legal infraction rate is astonishingly low for mysterious reasons, and organised criminality is limited to a negligible handful of street gangs within its boundaries (though the occasional disappearance tends to arouse suspicions on this matter).
Architecturally, the city reflects its recent erratic and almost haphazard development. Towers of glass and steel are often flanked by anachronistic pre-Edwardian houses, and the few piers still in use lie alongside numerous promontories of decaying wood.
Notable Features:
Saint Albertus Magnus Cathedral: A Catholic anomaly among New England’s sober Puritan temples, this imposing Gothic structure stands in the very centre of the city. Though both the Cathedral and the vast adjoining graveyard ought to be periodically restored by the urban authorities, the latter’s prolonged inactivity has enabled them to fall into such a state of sinister decrepitude that they tend to be fearfully shunned. Upon the Cathedral’s façade one can still barely discern the curious inscription “SOMNVS RATIONIS MONSTRA GENERAT”.
The Docklands: Once the city’s greatest hub of activity, the Docklands have long since degenerated into a veritable open-air slum, where New Sardis’s homeless population gathers in abandoned warehouses and it is deemed unsafe to pass with any valuables upon one’s person, lest these valuables unaccountably disappear. The few intact quays seem to be used solely for Aegis industrial shipments.
Istvan's Dragon: Since the end of World War II, the only enduring criminal element in New Sardis was that of outlaw biker clubs, ranging from free-spirited rebels to brutal thugs. Though local and small in size, they were numerous and, with the gradual decay of the city's police force, their influence became anything but invisible. Somewhere around the late 60's, the notorious drive bar known as Istvan's Dragon came to be, founded by an Eastern European immigrant. Located near in the Docklands, at the back of a small unimportant harbor, said establishment commonly served as a place for negotiations between different clubs, as well as a melting pot of all sorts of characters from the fringes of society over the years, until the eventual bloodbath that occurred in the early 90's. The Istvan Massacre was sparked by the rising tension between two rival clubs, leading to thirty casualties, seventeen of them being otherwise innocent patrons. The bar never recovered, and was left abandoned ever since. Along with the surrounding dock, it is now a sort of no man's land, as unwritten rules render it a sanctuary, prohibiting any sort of violence within it. Even law enforcement is wise enough to respect this condition. Despite its seemingly useful nature, the area remains abandoned, sparking urban legends of hauntings.
(Contribution by @Turbowraith)
“Atlantis” State Aquarium: New Sardis’s only possible tourist attraction, the Aquarium, built on local State funds with the backing of certain private bodies, is fitted with some of the most advanced equipment in its field. This has allowed for some daring experiments, such as the rare success of keeping giant cephalopods in captivity. The investment has proved fruitful, yielding large sums in the guise of admission fees and the sale of assorted merchandise.
Aegis Incorporated Complex: At some distance beyond the suburbs, surrounded by a stretch of forbidding wasteland, lies the ominous black citadel which serves simultaneously as headquarters, production plant and research establishment for the shadowy Aegis Inc. This comparatively young company, specialising in bellic and defensive technology, is said to have rapidly acquired a redoubtable power base, and, despite taking no interest in New Sardis itself, is almost universally dreaded by its inhabitants.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:
Sample Post:
For days, the leaden sky which menacingly loomed over them, notwithstanding their steady motion - truth be told, at a velocity which would be deemed unacceptably low whence they had come, owing to the unfamiliar driving practices with which most visiting continentals were constrained to come to grips with - across the rather bleak landscape, had failed to deliver upon its threat of precipitation, which might have prompted them to jot down a note concerning the matter of “dispelling popular misconceptions about...”, had they been ever so rash in making assumptions (which they were) and actually interested in such an endeavour (which they were not). Notwithstanding the lack of sociological aspirations, they had unanimously concluded that the much-reviled Albionic climate might be better, or at least could not be quite so much worse than the only one they had hitherto known.
“Weren’t you thinking the same?” Johannes inquired, without, however, turning to face his companion.
“What?” the latter listlessly replied, in a tone dulled by a lengthy period of sitting and gazing before himself. One could, of course, argue that he had not been effectively doing anything beyond that, but that would probably elicited little more than genuine incomprehension.
“I say, that it has rained the entire time we were in Germany since we left, and some days before that, but not for a single hour while we have been here.”
“And Belgium.”
“What?”
“It’s also rained in Belgium.”
“Not in France, though.”
“A bit after the border, it did. What were you saying there, again?”
“No, I was saying, it seems to rain less here than in Germany, doesn’t it?”
“Could be. I think it also depends on the season. Don’t you remember we had a completely dry summer in Thüringen?”
“But that’s Thüringen.”
Having thus apparently exhausted their stimulating conversational subject, the pair finally exchanged a weary glance, then simultaneously turned backwards for a brief moment and eyed the sleeping Nejat with a hint of envy. The third member of their diminutive party lay all but sprawled on the back seat of the slightly battered automobile, amid rucksacks and satchels of varying sizes and colours, leaning toward the less tasteful end of the spectrum, with his feet a mere few inches away from resting upon an already abundantly scratched suitcase. His fellow-travellers found this all the more outrageous as he had not in the least contributed to their progress through virtually half of the (semi)continent, nor to the journey from Dover to Southampton, and yet was able to blissfully slumber for a length of time which would have put a sloth to shame, whereas neither Johannes, who steered the unreasonably crammed vehicle, nor Turan, who attempted to navigate their way by cycling through a series of maps, with the predictable result of frequently driving them to meander in such parts as they would never have dreamt of visiting, were able to enjoy a night’s rest without spinning about and repeatedly rising to raise or lower the blinds for some two hours beforehand. The final pause before the ferry boarding could have finally allowed them some respite before nearly a week of struggling against sea-sickness, yet even now they seemed to be unable to do anything but trade inconsequential remarks concerning the weather. How else could it be? The topic of their preliminary plans was already spent, and it was as yet too early to begin actually pondering their execution.
All of a sudden, a rap against the glass by his head startled Johannes from the slumber he had been, in spite of all, drifting into. Not a little irritated, he lowered it and turned to face the whiskered countenance of the customs officer peering from beyond it.
“What is it, my good man?” he asked, not immediately realising that his impromptu usage of a rather colloquial expression had yielded a potentially offensive result. Not that it would have concerned him, but it was somewhat embarrassing for being unintended.
“Excuse me, sir,” the man began quite civilly, probably not being altogether inexperienced in interacting with foreigners, “Your vehicle looks like it might be exceeding the weight limit.” Was its crammed state quite so visible? Most likely. Meanwhile, the boarding queue was beginning to move forth - and they were being detained by this overly zealous, or thus it seemed to him, fellow.
“I assure you that we have passed all necessary controls. Here, we have these tickets they give there. Turan, do you...”
But Turan had drifted away into a tranquil slumber. Curse him, could he think of no better moment? Johannes began hastily rooting through the sheaf of various printed pages - mostly maps - in his lap. Where could he have buried them? Before them, the path onto the vessel was now empty. Ah, that was quite enough. No more of this nonsense.
“Sir, do you have the...”
Johannes abruptly turned toward the mustachioed intruder and, gazing fixedly into his eyes, which made him stagger back in surprise, theatrically raised his right hand, with the palm stretched outwards. This gesture was functionally unnecessary, but what was life without a little flavour? He focused his mental energies upon the figure before him and, almost envisioning the outline of its psychic nucleus, hurled at it a brief sequence of visions - nothing especially astounding, but enough to serve their purpose.
The man staggered, flailing his arms as though he had suddenly lost his sight and were attempting to clutch it before it flew away. Failing to grasp any solid object, he nearly collapsed, but was able to moderate his fall by crouching with what seemed to be a supreme effort. After about a minute, the expression of his eyes grew slightly less wild, and he saw that the potentially overloaded automobile had already vanished beyond the ascension ramp. Rising totteringly to his full height, he waved reassuringly at the other drivers, who were looking at him with some concern, and moved toward his position with quivering steps.
Aboard the ship, Johannes smiled to himself with a hint of triumph. Petty, admittedly, but was life not likewise composed of simple pleasures? His mouth still set in its twisted shape, he let his thoughts hasten forwards. Soon, he would have crossed the ocean, and then the true merriment would begin. A world of adventure lay ahead.
fdeviant Witch o' the Wood
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
Character Name
Marie Elizabeth Heartford
Alias
White Witch
Age
23
Speech Color
As Marie / Moccasin
As White Witch / Moccasin
As Holt / LightGreen
Character Alignment
Walking the Line
Identity
Secret
Character Personality
Uniform/costume
To hide her appearance, Marie wears a glamour charm in the form of a necklace that makes her unrecognizable to others. The simplicity of the charm makes it all the more powerful, concealing her true identity from even the sharpest of magical minds.
The White Witch is also equipped with a hand-crafted broomstick with a crooked handle adorned with a small lantern that acts as a spirit vessel for her familiar, Holt.
When not in costume, Marie dawns quite trendy, often over sized, clothing ranging from pastels and gray-scale. She has long, dark hair and soft, rounded, pale features.
Origin Info/Details
Hero Type
Mystic
Power Level
City Level (Her powers make her more effective at Street Level, but she certainly has City Level potential.)
Powers
Attributes
Weaknesses
Supporting Characters
Marie Elizabeth Heartford
Alias
White Witch
Age
23
Speech Color
As Marie / Moccasin
As White Witch / Moccasin
As Holt / LightGreen
Character Alignment
Walking the Line
Identity
Secret
Character Personality
Marie is a typical, unassuming millennial who, like most her age, follows an ever shifting moral compass. A long-time fan of the occult and current practitioner of Modern Traditional Witchcraft, Marie’s outlook on life is that it should be experienced in whatever manner one so chooses. Of course, being a millennial, Marie tends to side with more liberal ideologies, believing heavily in all manner of civil rights and liberties (including those that affect the supernatural/superpowered communities). She does, however, possess a few quirks and caveats that make her slightly more complex than the average civilian. Despite her outlook on life, Marie is quite the introvert, often finding more pleasure in reading and remaining in solitude than going out for a night on the town. Her looks betray her awkwardness, for while her beauty and sense of style are apparent, she lacks conversational skills and tends to stumble over her words. Whatever social difficulties she may have, Marie is quite the skilled problem solver, able to calmly approach any nonsocial situation. Being a practitioner of witchcraft, Marie has no problem in exacting vengeance when she believes it to be necessary and always has a curse in her back pocket. However, so too does she believe in using power to protect those in need and is more benevolent than she lets on.
Uniform/costume
To hide her appearance, Marie wears a glamour charm in the form of a necklace that makes her unrecognizable to others. The simplicity of the charm makes it all the more powerful, concealing her true identity from even the sharpest of magical minds.
The White Witch is also equipped with a hand-crafted broomstick with a crooked handle adorned with a small lantern that acts as a spirit vessel for her familiar, Holt.
When not in costume, Marie dawns quite trendy, often over sized, clothing ranging from pastels and gray-scale. She has long, dark hair and soft, rounded, pale features.
Origin Info/Details
As a little girl, Marie had a powerful fascination with all things magical. She adored bedtime stories, fantasy worlds filled with wizards and witches, outrageous fairytales and the like, so much so that she would wander the wooded areas near her family home in New England and sing enchantments of her own design or talk to the trees and the flowers, hoping and praying that one day they might respond. It was during one of these outings that she encountered something that frightened her, something straight from a fairytale, or perhaps a nightmare. Within the sparse foliage stood a tall figure, chest tanned and exposed, legs covered in dark garments with hooves erupting from their bottoms, and a head like goat’s with a candle balanced above its brow. Marie ran, fearing the strange creature, but her curiosity saw her return to the same clearing each day, and each day she was greeted by the same image.
Eventually, she grew brave and began wandering closer to the goat-headed man, each new journey into the forest taking her a few steps nearer, until finally they were close enough to touch. Though the man looked outlandish, it was clear that he meant Marie no harm. She grew more comfortable with his presence and after some time began to see him as a friend. Marie would bring him the occasional gift, a wreath of flowers, a drawing, pastries and sweets, and though he did not speak, he seemed to emanate something that felt like joy or gratitude. This friendship grew, and Marie began to divulge her deepest desires and fears, relating tales of her mundane adventures to him as if he were a diary.
After some time, Marie gathered up the courage to ask the man’s name, and finally, he spoke, or rather, she heard a voice, a deep, echoing voice within her mind that seemed to answer her questions. The being told Marie that his name was Bucca, but he was known by many other names across the world. He told her that he appreciated her company and gifts, and that it was time for him to bestow her with a gift. Bucca raised his arm, extended his finger, and touched Marie’s forehead. For a moment, she felt a slight pain, like a burn, but it was over in an instant. He then removed a large, leather-bound tome from his waist and handed it to her. It was covered in many strange symbols and words that she couldn’t recognize. He told her that with this, she could make all of her dreams come true, she could have whatever she wanted, but she must keep this book a secret from others, lest they think differently of her. Overjoyed, she hugged Bucca and ran back home to read through the strange book.
Within were several charms, enchantments and recipes that could bring wealth, luck, misfortune, bring rain, calm a storm, bind a wind, etc. Marie immediately began performing all the little spells that she could, making her life as magical as possible with what few resources she had. She returned to the forest to speak with Bucca, but for the first time, he wasn’t there. Subsequent trips to the woods would prove uneventful, and Marie never again saw Bucca in person, though sometimes, she believed she heard his voice in dreams.
Now a young adult with a plethora of experiences with magic, Marie realizes that she had encountered a being known to witches worldwide, the “witches god” so to speak, known to religious folk as the Devil. For whatever reason, he had chosen to bestow her with the witch fire, a special connection to the Otherside only gifted to certain practitioners that greatly enhances their magical talents. White Witch formed from necessity. After Marie saw the state of the world, the damages that other powerful individuals had caused, she decided to follow in the footsteps of those that came before her, to become a modern Cunning Woman more powerful than her predecessors. She crafted her costume, moved to Lost Haven, where the strange activity seemed to be the heaviest, and began her career as White Witch whilst managing an occult shop within the city as Marie.
Eventually, she grew brave and began wandering closer to the goat-headed man, each new journey into the forest taking her a few steps nearer, until finally they were close enough to touch. Though the man looked outlandish, it was clear that he meant Marie no harm. She grew more comfortable with his presence and after some time began to see him as a friend. Marie would bring him the occasional gift, a wreath of flowers, a drawing, pastries and sweets, and though he did not speak, he seemed to emanate something that felt like joy or gratitude. This friendship grew, and Marie began to divulge her deepest desires and fears, relating tales of her mundane adventures to him as if he were a diary.
After some time, Marie gathered up the courage to ask the man’s name, and finally, he spoke, or rather, she heard a voice, a deep, echoing voice within her mind that seemed to answer her questions. The being told Marie that his name was Bucca, but he was known by many other names across the world. He told her that he appreciated her company and gifts, and that it was time for him to bestow her with a gift. Bucca raised his arm, extended his finger, and touched Marie’s forehead. For a moment, she felt a slight pain, like a burn, but it was over in an instant. He then removed a large, leather-bound tome from his waist and handed it to her. It was covered in many strange symbols and words that she couldn’t recognize. He told her that with this, she could make all of her dreams come true, she could have whatever she wanted, but she must keep this book a secret from others, lest they think differently of her. Overjoyed, she hugged Bucca and ran back home to read through the strange book.
Within were several charms, enchantments and recipes that could bring wealth, luck, misfortune, bring rain, calm a storm, bind a wind, etc. Marie immediately began performing all the little spells that she could, making her life as magical as possible with what few resources she had. She returned to the forest to speak with Bucca, but for the first time, he wasn’t there. Subsequent trips to the woods would prove uneventful, and Marie never again saw Bucca in person, though sometimes, she believed she heard his voice in dreams.
Now a young adult with a plethora of experiences with magic, Marie realizes that she had encountered a being known to witches worldwide, the “witches god” so to speak, known to religious folk as the Devil. For whatever reason, he had chosen to bestow her with the witch fire, a special connection to the Otherside only gifted to certain practitioners that greatly enhances their magical talents. White Witch formed from necessity. After Marie saw the state of the world, the damages that other powerful individuals had caused, she decided to follow in the footsteps of those that came before her, to become a modern Cunning Woman more powerful than her predecessors. She crafted her costume, moved to Lost Haven, where the strange activity seemed to be the heaviest, and began her career as White Witch whilst managing an occult shop within the city as Marie.
Hero Type
Mystic
Power Level
City Level (Her powers make her more effective at Street Level, but she certainly has City Level potential.)
Powers
- Witchcraft/Sorcery/Occultism: Marie is a practicing witch with a connection to the spiritual Otherworld, allowing her to exercise her will over this world via the use of incantations, spells and rituals, herbal/alchemic formulas, etc.
- Shared Soul: Marie is the current incarnation of a witch from the 1500s, giving her limited access to that witch’s knowledge and power. However, given that her former self was a natural witch (one born with an affinity for witchcraft), Marie possesses certain innate gifts and qualities that make her magic more potent and require far less complexity.
- Spiritual Familiar: Marie possesses a familiar spirit, Holt, who acts as a supernatural servant and aid to Marie. Holt is able to carry out certain magical tasks at Marie’s command with little to no effort on her part. He can also provide Marie with valuable information regarding past/future events (with certain limitations), can appear most anywhere she desires and act as an informant, can travel between this world and the next, and can transform himself to appear as anything Marie might require. Using Holt’s power, Marie is capable of flight upon her broom, which would normally require a mystical ointment to achieve flight.
Attributes
Strength: Normal Human (May very under the effects of magic)
Speed/Reaction Time: Normal Human (Speed increased to around 20-70 MPH during flight)
Endurance: Normal Human, 2 Hours
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average/Above Average
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Resources: Average-Large (Managing occult shop = discount)
Speed/Reaction Time: Normal Human (Speed increased to around 20-70 MPH during flight)
Endurance: Normal Human, 2 Hours
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average/Above Average
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Resources: Average-Large (Managing occult shop = discount)
Weaknesses
Marie’s magic is slightly stunted in that, while it is more powerful than most mundane practitioners’, most of it (aside from certain conjurations and invocations) requires some physical aspect such as a talisman, charm, crystal, herb, potion, etc., or a spoken incantation which can sometimes be an inconvenience. She is also physically weak given that she is human and untrained in combat.
Supporting Characters
Robin Goodfellow/Puck: A sly demon from medieval times that has since relocated to Lost Haven and set up a magical tavern called The Red Devil. Puck is Marie’s employer and is in the business of magical deals and contracts.
Madalena Hawthorne: A beautiful New Age spiritual, Madalena is Marie’s friend and employer. Owner of the “Shadow of the Moon” occult and curiosities shop in Lost Haven, she has suspicions about the White Witch’s true identity.
Holt: A shadowy familiar that was gifted to Marie by her now deceased friend, Joseph Mathers. Holt acts as a friend to Marie and her magical assistant.
Madalena Hawthorne: A beautiful New Age spiritual, Madalena is Marie’s friend and employer. Owner of the “Shadow of the Moon” occult and curiosities shop in Lost Haven, she has suspicions about the White Witch’s true identity.
Holt: A shadowy familiar that was gifted to Marie by her now deceased friend, Joseph Mathers. Holt acts as a friend to Marie and her magical assistant.
fdeviant Witch o' the Wood
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
Character Name:
Alias:
Age:
Speech Color:
Character Alignment:
Identity:
Character Personality:
Uniform/costume:
Origin Info/Details:
Hero Type:
Power Level:
Powers:
Attributes:
Weaknesses:
Supporting Characters:
Hekate
Alias:
She known by the names and titles: Trivia (Roman Name), Cthonia, Beldam, Hag/Witch Queen, Queen of the Night, Devil’s Bride, etc.
Age:
Immortal / Ageless
Speech Color:
MediumPurple
Character Alignment:
Walking the Line (With a tendency to go dark)
Identity:
Both known and not. As a powerful witch, her form is known to change.
Character Personality:
She is as the gods, a fickle beast whose moods change with the wind. At any moment, she is a beautiful being who lusts for excitement, for revelry and praise. She is as her kin, those blessed with the witch-fire, a creature of the night whose deadly malice rains upon any fool who dares slight her. She is as the shadows and Others, a mysterious force who lurks at the precipice of reality. Her temper is hot like the black tar of hell, her beauty as radiant as the sun, and her mind is a place unlike any other, filled to the brim with knowledge of worlds just beyond man’s reach. Her means and motives are beyond explanation, sporadic and chaotic like her domain.
Uniform/costume:
Most often seen in a form befitting of her origin, Hekate dawns the image of a Greek woman, with dark hair, olive skin, and large, brown eyes. Her features are sharp, telling of her years and wisdom, yet her overall expression is youthful and unassuming. She adorns black, silken garments from eras past, covered in a shawl that flows with otherworldly grace, and fine golden bands, rings, and circlets with diamond fittings. However, as one not bound by time, she must adorn herself with clothes befitting of the modern world, still bearing her physical beauties.
Origin Info/Details:
Hekate is a being not of this world, but one of the world Beyond. She is an Elder Spirit from the Otherworld who embodies its greatest secrets and darkest arts, those of witchcraft. Born of the Otherworld to no parents in particular, her presence was felt most heavily in Greece, where stories of her powers formed and spread, influencing literature, culture, and magical practices.
To them she was a goddess, a being worthy of their praise. She was perhaps the first witch, the one who opened portals to the Otherworld, ushering spirits and demons from her realm into ours, showering the people of that era with many gifts and blessings. So vast was her sphere of influence, so great was her worship that she drew the attention of the other gods, the Athanatoi, great celestial beings from a world all their own. She was respected by them, for they knew her powers were great, and she offered respect in return, offering the gods and their children aid when it was needed. She was beloved by Zeus, who showed her many great secrets of the Athanatoi and offered her a seat among the heavens, an area over which she had no previous sway.
Even as time passed, with the fall of these civilizations whom had held her so dear and the spread of Christianity across Europe, her powers were still felt. Men and women found their way to her in the Middle Ages, offering their devotion in exchange for her powers. She walked among men as peasant, merchant, and nobility alike, heading the night rides of witches across the sky. She married and courted many beings of the Otherworld, who came to be known as Devil by Christians worldwide. Even when her kin were hunted, hanged, and burned, she cast a shadow over them so that the truly guilty might be free of the inquisitor’s gaze, ensuring their safety and the damnation of the “innocent.” When the witch-hunts came to America, so did she, a night hag dressed in black who tormented Puritan hearts.
She is a being of magic, a witch by name and trade, and while not patron to all, she is their predecessor, and she is the most powerful among them.
To them she was a goddess, a being worthy of their praise. She was perhaps the first witch, the one who opened portals to the Otherworld, ushering spirits and demons from her realm into ours, showering the people of that era with many gifts and blessings. So vast was her sphere of influence, so great was her worship that she drew the attention of the other gods, the Athanatoi, great celestial beings from a world all their own. She was respected by them, for they knew her powers were great, and she offered respect in return, offering the gods and their children aid when it was needed. She was beloved by Zeus, who showed her many great secrets of the Athanatoi and offered her a seat among the heavens, an area over which she had no previous sway.
Even as time passed, with the fall of these civilizations whom had held her so dear and the spread of Christianity across Europe, her powers were still felt. Men and women found their way to her in the Middle Ages, offering their devotion in exchange for her powers. She walked among men as peasant, merchant, and nobility alike, heading the night rides of witches across the sky. She married and courted many beings of the Otherworld, who came to be known as Devil by Christians worldwide. Even when her kin were hunted, hanged, and burned, she cast a shadow over them so that the truly guilty might be free of the inquisitor’s gaze, ensuring their safety and the damnation of the “innocent.” When the witch-hunts came to America, so did she, a night hag dressed in black who tormented Puritan hearts.
She is a being of magic, a witch by name and trade, and while not patron to all, she is their predecessor, and she is the most powerful among them.
Hero Type:
Mystic / Supernatural
Power Level:
World Level
Powers:
- Witchcraft: Hekate’s is a more powerful Craft, for she need not channel another being’s power, she may channel powers directly from herself and the Otherworld.
- Teleportation/Manifestation:As a being of the Otherworld, Hekate can manifest her consciousness wherever she pleases and can freely travel between worlds.
- Immortality: Ageless beauty, timelessness, and the ability to reform her body. If destroyed, her being returns to the Otherworld, where it is reborn.
- Shape-Shifting: Capable of taking on the forms of animals and men alike.
- Power Transferal: As a spirit of the Otherworld and a being of magic, Hekate possesses the ability to grant mortal beings mystical powers, creating a link or contract with them that may not be severed, not even by Hekate.
Attributes:
- Strength Level: 50
- Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 70
- Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 5 hours
- Agility: 10X
- Intelligence: Genius with respect to occult knowledge. Nearly so with respect to all other things except technology.
- Fighting Skill: Trained
- Resources: Large / Extreme
Weaknesses:
Despite her association with them, Hekate is not a member of the Athanatoi and has certain weaknesses tied to her spiritual nature. Her powers are capable of being warded against, though the number of practitioners required to combat her magic number in the hundreds. Though immortal, she is not invincible and can be defeated in close combat with some effort. Her presence is easily felt unless glamoured, making it easy to spot her/track her in this plane. She is also bound by her word, meaning she cannot break contracts with others, though she does find sneaky ways around them.
Supporting Characters:
The Athanatoi: Though her contact with them has waned over the centuries since their departure from Earth, she still has the means to council with them should the need arise.
Circe: A sorceress from Greek myth, daughter of Helios, aunt of Medea, and mother to three sons by Odysseus. Circe, at a point in time, called Hekate her patron, and like the goddess, possesses great powers that keep her from aging. She is stationed on the mythic island of Aeaea, whose whereabouts are unknown and believed to be shielded from mortal eyes.
Medea: A powerful sorceress and early pupil of Hekate, she is most known for her role in helping the hero Jason with his greatest quests, and the subsequent murder of their children and flight from Colchis on the dragon-lead chariot of her grandfather, Helios. As a powerful witch and the granddaughter of one of the Athanatoi, Medea is kept from aging. Her current whereabouts are unknown to all but a select few.
Circe: A sorceress from Greek myth, daughter of Helios, aunt of Medea, and mother to three sons by Odysseus. Circe, at a point in time, called Hekate her patron, and like the goddess, possesses great powers that keep her from aging. She is stationed on the mythic island of Aeaea, whose whereabouts are unknown and believed to be shielded from mortal eyes.
Medea: A powerful sorceress and early pupil of Hekate, she is most known for her role in helping the hero Jason with his greatest quests, and the subsequent murder of their children and flight from Colchis on the dragon-lead chariot of her grandfather, Helios. As a powerful witch and the granddaughter of one of the Athanatoi, Medea is kept from aging. Her current whereabouts are unknown to all but a select few.
coGM
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
3 hrs ago
Character you have created: The Vigilante
Alias: Isaac Fontaine
Speech Color (Actually say what you're using, don't go "Like this", or what not): Regular white on black with bold. Without bold for “thought quotes”.
Character Alignment: Hero with shades of grey
Identity: Secret and paranoid about keeping it so.
Character Personality (Give information on how your character acts, what he/she believes in, how they handle situations):
Mid-to-late 20s but has been fighting crime in his way for well over a decade. Slight frame but well cut as a former light middleweight amateur boxer in school. Not a big man for someone with his “hobby” – slightly over 6 feet and put in a lot of work just to get to 180lbs – but gets by through intimidation and reputation which leads people to believe he’s a bigger man than he actually is. Was the sole heir to a very wealthy family but lives/eats like a bum – a lot of microwaveable food, and quick-to-prepare meals. Everything about him screams of “Practical over aesthetics” from his straight black costume, to his unkempt appearance in his other life. He’s someone who plans his actions thoroughly, but will often lash out speaking his mind thoughtlessly with little concern for the consequences. That doesn’t mean that he is beyond remorse, merely speaks brashly.
Uniform/costume:
Fontaine is more about effectiveness than style, as such everything he takes/wears has to be justifiable. He wears a black balaclava, generic black tracksuit top and pants, strapped with duct tape at the wrists and ankles to avoid leaving DNA evidence, wears rubber surgical gloves under leather gloves allowing him to remove leather gloves for greater dexterity.
Origin Info/Details:
Born in the mid-80s, his was a remarkable situation. A very rare condition saw his mother’s body treating the foetus as a disease/obstruction, her immune system attacking the baby and leaving the mother dramatically weakened and needing an extremely pre-mature c-section. In what was previously thought to be a zero survival rate case, Isaac Fontaine the miracle baby was born in uncomfortable silence. His nerves fused in such a way as to not allow the sensation of pain to travel through to the receptors in his brain as his body managed to somehow naturally adapt to prevent the foetus dying of shock. Due to disuse and redundancy his brain’s pain receptors atrophied away to nothing. His mother’s body however was ravaged and weakened by the birth, dying in the hospital. Her body died fighting the baby her mind wanted so badly. The father named the child Isaac, as was his mother’s wish and he raised the child as she would want, despite some deep-seeded resentment towards the child for being the cause of death to the woman he loved so much.
The boy and his father would eat at the dinner table with the evening news on in the background, and his father would comment on it with the problems of the day (his father was a brash, opinionated man, just as the son would be – he was also grooming him to one day rise to fill his shoes in the corporate world). A liberal government combined with the news would lead to great rants from the conservative father, about the government being out of touch and needing to crack down on the criminal youth element (gangs and organised crime were becoming increasingly prevalent in Terraria through the 90s-early 2000s). One phrase which was repeated often which would resonate in the younger Fontaine’s ears: “Something has to be done”.
Fast forward a few years, and a young Fontaine is playing soccer, representing his boarding school, the young Isaac was taken out via a slide tackle from a vastly bigger boy from a rival school with a bullying reputation. Isaac got to his feet and shoved the bully who countered by punching Isaac in the face. Isaac had his feet set and took the brunt of the blow, returning fire with a shot that broke his nose and sat the behemoth on his arse. The following season he was urged into boxing as word passed through the school of the soccer incident. That next winter he also moved into rugby as he grew to love the positive response and reputation he got as a fearless, loyal teammate who would throw himself in to play support regardless the odds for success… coming out on top more often than not.
His first vigilante moment came at 16, when he saw an old man get mugged by 5 punk kids who stole his wallet and, seeing that nobody around was looking to oppose them, kicked the old man in the chest and walked away laughing. Fontaine’s dark scowl reflected his posture as he hunched in an intimidating fashion over the wheel. Observed the 5 walk to their car and trailed them back to a house. Fontaine picked off the residents one or two at a time, found the wallet and fled. From the security of his car he saw the wallet had been picked clean of cash, after a brief stop he returned the wallet plus $200 to its rightful owner after knocking on the door and leaving the wallet on the step whilst checking from a safe distance. The old man’s heart dangerously skipped a beat when he found it brimming with currency, but all was well and a hero was born.
A year later his father was mugged and bled out in a backstreet after leaving through a backdoor avoiding current affairs reporters who had been harassing their way to the top due to the poor behaviour of a comparatively lower down representative of the company. With this event a hobby mutated to obsession as his father’s words echoed with meaning now greater than ever.
With access to new wealth from his passing father, an empty house to work towards his fixation and the additional alibi of taking some time off to mourn the passing of his father added to his rapidly improving methods and the cool, fearless head which led to many calling him “Iced veins” Fontaine as an amateur boxer, Isaac now threatens to be the biggest blight on crime yet… if the police and a Premier seeking re-election don’t take him down first.
Now in the last year or so his life has become quite a bit more chaotic... but that isn’t his origin.
Recent Events
Isaac was flung into this universe after interdimensional shenanigans with a device called a “tetherporter” went awry. After using the device once he went to a strange new Earth, where - misunderstanding the instructions that came with the device – he ejected that Earth’s version of himself along with the tetherporter, breaking it in the process. The turmoil to the space-time continuum caused the multiverse to re-shuffle itself, hurling Isaac into an Earth that could more readily handle his presence.
Once everything settled on this new Earth, Isaac found himself getting abducted by a group of aliens who were this sector’s Guardians or Protectors (no exact translation) of the spacetime continuum. Sensing an abnormality in a region where the dominant species had not yet developed the technology to be able to cause the aberration they found.
The aliens explained to him, in a very contemptuous fashion, what had happened. That all organisms have a destiny, a set place and role that can be mapped across all of four dimensional spacetime. That a tetherporter is a simplified device to allow for a safe, “idiotproof” traverse between 2 specific pre-set dimensions. When an organism is off-dimension, their path is held by a thread which pressures the being to return to their own dimension.
Through Isaac’s action, breaking the tetherporter, the odds of his returning to his own universe shrank in proportion to the size of the multiverse.
The multiverse is infinite.
His own actions had severed his “thread”. Isaac Fontaine became a man of no destiny. Destiny was one of the fundemental pillars of magic, as such he was not bound to the laws of magic. A man who lived outside of its purview.
Due to the potential for harm to the spacetime continuum that a being which doesn’t have a set place in the tapestry of destiny, the aliens were going to kill the Vigilante. Until he pointed out that their presence as a force suggested a specific end-date to the multiverse. Why have a devoted force policing spacetime if there was not a legitimate threat to all existence? He was able to convince the aliens to leave him on the “primitive mudball” of Earth (which “hadn’t even achieved the relatively minor civilization goals of solving the energy crisis, perpetual motion engines, lightspeed travel, or war”), as a wildcard to counter the big threat at the end of times that was the reason for their spacetime preservation force. When all things, even the multiverse have a pre-destined end… maybe a lowly being without a destiny could somehow have a use?
The aliens informed him that the universe he had now been thrown into was one that would be best adjusted to his presence. Things may have been a certain way for this universe’s previous version of him that best enable him to fit this universe. As if to highlight that fact, immediately after he’s returned to the Earth he’d receives a phone message from his childhood friend (who also handles his portfolio) Tony Morris; this universe’s version of Isaac had enrolled at LHU (in courses where lectures could be taken from online and his presence on campus wasn’t mandatory) as an alibi and cover story for his vigilante activities and presence in Lost Haven.
Isaac was also present during the Pax Metahumana incident. He has a shaky relationship with Arachne after shooting her with a bolt from his grapple gun whilst trying to determine which was the real Arachne in a standoff with the meta-mimic Effigy.
He is extremely protective of the hero Icon, for reasons which seem to stem from his home universe.
Last we saw, Isaac was attempting to trail Effigy, the sole loose end after the Pax Metahumana event and stumbled upon tape of the group’s leaded Doctor Diplodoc talking with a mysterious unknown old man with a hat and glasses. He was called into the Dean’s office at LHU for reasons thus far unknown.
Hero Type (Select one):
Leans closest to Normal, with slight aspects of muscle, acrobat and intelligence.
Power Level (Select one below):
Going by the level of his actual powers you would say 1. By definition he watches over his home city though.
Powers (Be Specific):
Inability to feel pain. Very minor healing factor that allows him to heal perhaps 50 percent faster than regular people.
A non-conductivity (or immunity, if you will) to magic. “Lucky”. The universe he’s been flung into seems somehow attuned to providing him some level of aid at times… but will sometimes pressure him into situations and places he really doesn’t want to go.
Attributes:
Strength Level: High level human. Pain no factor.
Speed/Reaction Timing: High level human.
Endurance at Maximum Effort: Above regular level human since not held back by pain barrier.
Agility: Held to human level.
Intelligence: Borderline genius intellect by human terms. Particularly suited to his own lifestyle.
Fighting Skill: Heavily influenced by boxing where he gained experience as a high school amateur boxer. Will kick, but generally when opponent is exposed. More power than finesse, will occasionally break his own bones/harm himself trying to take out opponents. Knows some counters in other martial arts but is far from a master in any. Looks to intimidate. Not opposed to inflicting serious injury to self or opponents in combat. Better at fighting against knives than with one himself, since training low and he’s largely self-taught from a decade of crime-fighting. Not a good marksman due to his inexperience/fear of possible harm to innocent bystanders and largely abhors guns in general.
Resources: Large but not obscene to Bruce Wayne/Tony Stark/Danny Rand levels. Family was wealthy as father was banking high-up and left with vast inheritance. Rents numerous places in Lost Haven as “safe houses”, this allows/results in him living in a number of places and not really considering anywhere in this new city home.
Equipment: Nightsticks (previously jimmy-sticks), grappling hook gun/bolt gun (which he carries both piercing bolts and “concussion” dulled-head bolts), “flash-bang” grenades, balaklava, $500 in cash, spare cable/hooks, duct tape. Will occasionally carry light pack with other ordnance/equipment. At this point his equipment largely comes from a single ally (former Colonel “Gunny” Bracken) and what he has taken from criminals.
Weaknesses: Poor marksman, but doesn’t really use firearms anyway. Is very intelligent, but needs it focused to be applicable. Quite (extremely) socially maladjusted; too frequently speaks his mind. Is only human in a world of superhumans. Inability to feel pain results in more serious injuries since he pushes his body to further and further extremes.
A non-conductivity to magic. This swings both positive and negative. Magical allies can not heal him, he can not transport via portals, etc. Likewise swinging both ways is his “Luck”, whilst the universe seems attuned to provide a suitable “fit” for Isaac, life does seem to drag him in all kinds of outrageously ridiculous directions. Directions he’d often rather not take or have to deal with.
What can you bring to the RPG: The same thing I bring every season, Pinky...
coGM
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
3 hrs ago
Character you have created: The Aquilifer
Alias: Dennis Connolly
Speech Color (Actually say what you're using, don't go "Like this", or what not): Yellow, Georgia
Character Alignment: Hero
Identity: Secret. Not yet public knowledge
Character Personality (Give information on how your character acts, what he/she believes in, how they handle situations): 24 years of age. Lazy, born-loser. Has a massive inferiority complex to his dead brother and sizeable self-confidence issues. Cares too much about what other people think, compared with doing the right thing. Unemployed, drinks, has partaken in what his mother calls “the pot” and is just completely ill-equipped to inherit the legacy of a super hero...
But other than that he’s a nice enough, personable type. Just not someone you’d trust to loan money too, let alone significant power or responsibility.
Uniform/costume:
Dresses fairly casually usually, although will tend to wear a leather flight suit jacket lined with down to protect from wind-shear with only an emblem of wings over the breast-pocket as evidence of his “eagle-bearer” legacy. An old flight helmet with a decal of eagles wings and jeans when he intends to go into action.
Origin Info/Details:
In the 1920s and 30s the United States had their own golden era of heroic figures. People who would prevent bank robberies, retrieve cats from trees (if asked politely, as all would do in the salad days of yore), put out fires, save people who fell whilst cleaning high rise windows (hey! It happened more than you may think) and otherwise making the world a better place. Whilst never looking to get involved in global politics. (Because, gosh darn it, hard working types had earned those positions and had more experience and were doing the work they were best suited for in those roles).
Then came the ‘30s. And Nazis. The Attack on Pearl Harbor awoke a sleeping giant. And suddenly the U.S. was unable to stay out of the war.
And the earliest heroes suddenly realised where their efforts would best be suited.
Amongst these heroes, was one man. The Aquilifer. Who named himself after the ancient Roman standard bearers who carried the symbol of the eagle. Armed with the Golden Rod, a powerful technological device years beyond anything mankind could surely have devised – possessing a power that surely could have come from God himself, the Aquilifer quickly forged a name for himself as a symbol for justice, righteousness and freedom from tyranny.
Eventually, the good guys won the day. Soldiers, both powered and otherwise came home and returned from making America and the free world safe from rat-zi jackboots, and set to work once more in their role of making the country the best place possible to live. The Aquilifer returned to his home town of Lost Haven and looked to use the Golden Rod to do just that and more. While the Aquilifer set to work in that regard, a gentleman by the name of Alan Coghlan looked to achieve the same goal himself... by providing a new technological renaissance, CoghlanGears grew into a large company coming up with many patents and tremendous innovations that were years ahead of their time.
In the late ‘40s during a battle with one of the Liberty Legion’s great foes, Tempus Flare the Time Pirate several members of the Liberty Legion, including the Aquilifer, disappeared. It was a dark day for the nation and the lost members were honoured in the Hall of Heroes at the Museum of Supers in Lost Haven, which had quite a large representation of members of the group, and in numerous other memorials in cities ranging from New York to Washington D.C.
Strangely it was around this time that the founder of CoghlanGears, Alan Coghlan, also disappeared. Apparently seeking a life of solitude and meditation.
It was with great jubilation that the world saw these missing heroes return in the sixties. It appeared that instead of dying or being lost for eternity in the terrible time tunnel of the Time Pirate, they had merely all “been misplaced” and jumped forward over 20 years until they had successfully taken down the dastardly Tempus Flare.
Many of the heroes struggled to adjust to the changes they had seen in the American culture after their lost twenty years, and many settled down presumably to families or perhaps a well earned retirement. The Aquilifer continued to strive for justice, albeit in an increasingly limited capacity for the following ten years.
Around the same time the elusive Alan Coghlan had been discovered. Due to his unreliable absence over the years his company had moved in other directions from the conscientious board of directors who had assumed control in his stead. A nice suburban house in the Little Ulster quadrant, with a white picket fence and a second chance with the wife he had unthinkably left behind all these years were suitable enough payment for his years work in constructing the company he had abandoned. It was around this time that his wife Margaret fell pregnant to Alan and gave birth to a daughter; Helen.
The ‘70s saw the retirement of the Aquilifer, who had undoubtedly deserved a peaceful retirement after decades of service.
The mid-to-late 1980s saw Helen (now Connolly) Coghlan have her own two children, both sons, named Sean and Dennis Connolly (nee Coghlan).
The early nineties saw a tumultuous period in the U.S. and the world as a whole. Desert Storm, the L.A. riots, Waco and the bombing of the World Trade Center saw a re-emergence of the Aquilifer of sorts. Despite clearly being a different man than the last Aquilifer, this man was a little harder nosed than the last. A different hero for a different age, his methods were at times swifter and more shocking than the previous Aquilifer. However in an age when several heroes were taking more drastic measures in response to darker threats, the Aquilifer was a steadying force and generally not in favour of needless wanton acts of violence.
The Golden Rod saw many changes itself over the years in the hands of this new Aquilifer, and also developed new tricks and uses for the Rod as well as different ways of utilizing its new features.
Meanwhile, Helen Connolly raised her boys through high school in Lost Haven, before moving across the country to Seattle to join her husband who had until this point been putting off starting his own business. Sean was doing well, was Valedictorian and also starting quarterback for his final two years. Sean received several offers from fairly big football schools but chose to stay in Lost Haven, the home he’d always known, because he couldn’t see the NFL being in his future. Dennis... was also still around. Dennis decided to go the junior college route before attending the Rockefeller Community College before eventually getting his degree in English literature. The two boys would remain in Lost Haven watched over by family in the absence of their mother and father.
The modern Aquilifer had a strong determined streak and would push himself to his very limits. But the years started to get to him by the late ‘00s, his fateful inevitable demise came in 2012, where Tempus Flare got his revenge. Traversing through time and appearing out of thin air, attaching a device to the wielder of the Golden Rod whilst the Aquilifer aged to dust on national television.
A private will-reading saw the Golden Rod bequeathed to science, however through what must have been a terrible accident on behalf of the man who was the Aquilifer, he bestowed it on the former owner of CoghlanGears, Alan Coghlan rather than the company itself.
A new, considerably younger Aquilifer appeared almost immediately after the funeral. Presumably after the elderly and disorderly Coghlan misplaced the Rod.
The new Aquilifer was a breath of fresh air, bringing back a sense of joy and whimsy to the role whilst also possessing strength, stature and intelligence. It was his inexperience however that was his downfall after the beloved hero was lured into a trap and slaughtered by Miz Demeanour and the Fel-honeys after Demeanour misrepresented herself as a rape victim. The Aquilifer eventually recognised his attackers but by then it was too late, they had him trapped, outnumbered and were armed and prepared for the specific defences of the Golden Rod.
Sean Connolly was found deceased on the scene and it appears that he had discovered the Golden Rod after his grandfather had misplaced it and had the foolhardy thought that perhaps he could use it himself.
The funeral temporarily brought the entire family together, but the parents have since left back for their Seattle home. The sole surviving son Dennis still resides in Lost Haven with his grandfather.
Few fear Dennis might have similar benevolent thoughts of flying out and changing the world should he ever stumble upon the Rod...
Hero Type (Select one):
Regular human wielder of the Golden Rod. A tech-based “energy weapon” of so-far unknown origin, which is far more than just a weapon.
Power Level (Select one below):
City level/World level
Powers (Be Specific):
The Golden Rod is a tech based energy weapon which has a myriad of uses:
Energy absorption
Anti-gravity fields that allow flight or for objects to be moved/lifted
Defensive force fields
Energy blasts to a range of roughly 75 metres
Heat emission
Light emission
Solid constructs of energy
Attributes (Select one at each category):
Strength Level: Normal Human, but the Golden Rod allows him to lift 10 tons.
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human reaction time, able to fly at 400 mph (straight line at a high altitude with no fear of hitting birds) but with a cruising speed of 75 MPH (remember, while the Golden Rod allows him to fly at subsonic speeds, he's still a guy holding onto it with regular human reaction times, so he seldom gets the opportunity to "open up" and push it to it's limits).
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Normal Human, but the Golden Rod never requires any form of recharging. The upper lengths of it’s endurance falls upon that of the wielder. At this stage Dennis is in somewhat less than peak condition.
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average
Fighting Skill: At this stage untrained
Resources: His own resources are minimal, but he has a supporting benefactor in his grandfather, whose own resources (assets) are average, but his resourceFULNESS is large.
Weaknesses: Psychological – Dennis has large self-confidence and inferiority issues to his late brother,
Has numerous self-destructive bad habits.
Still just a regular guy, who has access to a remarkable tool.
Supporting Characters (Does your character have a significant other? A mother? Friend? Who are they, what do they have to do with your character?):
Alan Coghlan, grandfather – Alan was the original Aquilifer, from a different time. Having lost 20 years of his life had a traumatic effect on the old Golden Age hero, and the heavy adjustment to just how much the world had changed in those years have taken their toll. Now more than ever Alan believes the role is necessary... and he’ll mould Dennis into someone suitable even if it kills the both of them.
I’ll list more as the character develops.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Yup.
Sample Post (Minimum Four paragraphs containing dialogue. As this is an Advanced Level game, Sample must also meet the RPG forum's minimum requirement of 12 lines):
“Mmmm-eah?” he grunts into the phone.
“Oh thank God you’re OK! It’s all over the news!”
“Geez, ma. Calm down, what’s all over the news?”
“Wait, where are you? Are you home? You can’t be home if you don’t know what I’m talking about... Where’s Grampa Alan?”
“Ma, calm down. It’s too early for this. Now slow down. I am home, what’s all over the news?”
“Go check on Grampa Alan...”
“Alright, I’ll check on Grampa Alan. I’m going now, I’ll call you right back.”
“No! Don’t hang u--! Clik”
Dennis threw on some pants and a tee, to make the small trek from the accessory apartment he lived in to the main house which was his grandfather’s. Strange that his mother would call on his cell. It’s an expensive call from Seattle, she’d normally call the house number. But for all he knew, maybe she had and he slept through it. He was a pretty heavy sleeper after a night on the town, so it’s not unheard of that he could have slept through... oh...
Character you have created: Malcolm Laurence
Alias: Dominus Mortis. Normally Just Mortis.
Speech Color (Actually say what you're using): #FFA07A
Character Alignment: Villian
Identity: Unknown
Character Personality: Malcolm has lived a long time and has experienced a variety of emotions during his long life and more in his unlife as a result he has all but left human emotions aside replacing them with cold logic. Malcolm has always been cynical and pessimistic never finding joy in anything he does this is mainly due to his little grasp on his humanity and ergo his disregard for all life.
Malcolm has a short temper that quickly shows itself when he is dealing with creatures he deems as lower life forms these being mostly human being who have not achieved what he views as enlightenment.
Uniform/costume:Malcolm wears a dusty molding robe that cling loosely to his skeletal body. It was a rich purple colour which has now become a duller kind of purple. The hem of his robe has a gold pattern sewn into it.The stitching on his robes comes undone in places showing off his rotting flesh and skeletal figure. His robes seem to have almost endless storage capacity this is simply a simple enchantment that makes the pockets of his robe deeper than they actually are.
Origin Info/Details:
Malcolm had always been interested in death. Born to a family that dealt in death. His father a coroner and his mother a Funeral Director Malcolm was to say the least, surrounded by death from birth. It was when he began to bloom as a man did his fixation with the occult and the undead truly started to go too far. He was shipped off to med school after finishing his study and was soon finished and pronounced doctor Malcolm Laurence.
After his studies he became fixated on cults and black magic to do with death. He used his family's wealth to purchase hundreds of occult paraphernalia which he used to further his knowledge and slow fall into darkness. When he turned 28 he joined a cult that worshiped one of many of the gods of death he had read about in his occult books.
His cult meetings and his dealings with them started to become a lot darker as he was egged on by cult members to start killing prostitutes on the streets of London. It wouldn’t be his first kill and the idea of fulfilling the wishes and pleasing the twisted god of Death he worshiped he would happily do whatever they asked of him.
Malcolm killed eleven people before the police really started to actively hunt for him. His killing spree had left a mark on the city of London and his strange obsession with the body parts he took from his victims worried the cult he belonged too and many of the members voiced their concerns as to the attention that Malcolm was bringing to the cult. Malcolm would have none of it ignoring them, he was planning something big and it was on the night after they voiced their concerns he set his plans into motion.Ambushing the cult members during a meeting they were having to expel him from their group, he worked magic through their minds forcing them to kill themselves. As his ritual reached its climax he looked at what he had achieved.
The leather bound book that lay in the middle of the ritual circle ebbed with dark magics and evil intent. It was his phylactery and he would hide it from anyone who would wish to destroy it. For it contained his soul and with it he would be closer to death and his god than any other person he knew of. He smiled as he felt his heart stop beating his body going cold as his bodily functions shut down. The culmination of his years of research and work had lead up to this point and he would relish every moment of it.
Raising his hands he gathered the souls of the dead cult members along with the souls of the people he had killed and gestured to the book which sprang open the pages turning madly until it stopped on no particular page. The souls were sucked into the book which snapped shut the moment the last soul entered it. Smiling with satisfaction he left the church but was upset to find that the police had found him. Somehow they overpowered him imprisoning him for his crimes. It was not long before the people of london heard about his crimes. They were outraged and forced their way into the jails taking Malcolm from his cell and burning him at the stake. Something that hadn’t been done in a long time.
They then dumped his charred body in the river. His journal was sold at a police auction to an avid occult collector and has since then been called the murder journal and passed from hand to hand before finally falling into the hands of a collector in New Haven. His body reforming in the city he now looks for his phylactery under the guise of Dominus Mortis, Master of Death.
Hero Type (Select one): Mystic/Supernatural
Power Level (Select one below): City Level (Possibility for World Level)
Powers (Be Specific): Mortis is a Lich and has command over black magic called Necromancy. He can communicate and speak to the dead and see ghosts or the spirits of those departed. He can detect mass death from a mile away small amounts of the dead half a mile.The more saturated an area is with death the stronger his magic is.He can use this magic to cause a variety of effects listed below:
He can bring life to dead bodies creating thralls that he can control either as mindless zombies or as full fledged undead retaining all of their knowledge of their previous life and abilities as long as raising them from the dead was something they willingly agreed too. As well as create: Ghouls, Banshees, Revenants, animated skeletons, Wights and Wraiths.
Given enough time he can perform a mass resurrection covering a city wide area this spell brings all dead back to life as mindless zombies with a hunger for flesh.
Can manifest his dark intent or the deathly energy around him, into bolts of dark energy, sharp waves or as black flames.The waves of energy extremely sharp and will leave deep grooves in even thick steel. The bolts move as fast as bullets and have the same penetrating power as a 50. Caliber bullet.The fire is almost unquenchable and can reach extreme heats.
Has a passive aura of dread and the temperature around him to drop to -10 degrees celsius. Can focus this aura through his eyes affecting one person instead of diluting the effect over an area this also causes intense moments of fear or pain in the individual he targets.
Able to project his body on the an astral plane to communicate with people over long distances, he can uses bodies as a medium to communicate through. He can also move the body his Phylactery is connected to, as long as that body is dead or dying.
Able to create shields of bone on his body or summon pillars of bones or dead bodies from the ground to block damage or block off places. These pillars of bones or shields of bones can fire off splinters of bones that can cut through flesh like butter.
Can summon a swarm of insects that feast on flesh to attack his enemies or use them as a way to scout out an area.
Can summon an ethereal scythe that does no physical damage to what it hits but instead cuts at the foe's soul doing damage to a person's soul causes them intense pain and if enough damage is sustained their soul is destroyed and the person's body becomes a shell for a new soul.
Being a Lich Mortis cannot be killed as he is already dead the only way to truly destroy him is to destroy his phylactery, his body on it’s own is fairly durable able to receive a large amount of damage before he is unable to keep his consciousness bound to the body. His body does have basic regeneration and will repair itself after half a day's worth of meditation.
When his body is destroyed a new one will form in a 10 mile area around it coalescing out of glowing smoke. His phylactery is not easily destroyed and requires an immense amount of magic to destroy or know the secret to destroying it from Mortis himself.
Simply possessing the phylactery (a Journal) can cause a person to become paranoid and obsessed with the journal, wanting to keep it safe and write down all of their secrets that happens to them. The journal will write back to the person promising them whatever they want as long as they keep the journal safe and tell no one of it. They will recognise Mortis as a god when they see him, hailing him as a messiah. This has caused a couple of cults to spawn in his honor. Mortis suffers none of the penalties a living body and is immune to disease, poison, fatigue, pain and other effects that plague only the living.
Attributes (Select one at each category):
Strength Level: 10
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Peak Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Never Ending
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Peak Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Never Ending
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Resources: Low
Weaknesses: Holy Magic, Phylactery, Positive Vibes
Supporting Characters (Does your character have a significant other? A mother? Friend? Who are they, what do they have to do with your character?): None
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Yes
Byrd Man El Hombre Pájaro
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Create a Hero RPG Application
Character you have created: Theodore Roosevelt
Alias: None
Speech Color: Normal speech.
Character Alignment: Hero
Identity: His identity is known, the fact that he's still alive is secret.
Character Personality: Roosevelt is very gung-ho (bully!) and considers himself a man of action. He will not hesitate to do whatever he needs to do to accomplish his goals. His willingness for combat is a front at this point. He needs to fight to feel alive. Long stretches without missions throw him into a state of melancholy. With no family and no friends, he needs something to do to give him purpose and strength. His is a man who needs a mission and without a mission he falls apart.
Uniform/costume: Picture
Origin Info/Details:
Executive Branch Backstory
In 1776, the Second Continental Congress signed the Declaration of Independence and went to war with Great Britain. In early 1777 General George Washington met with John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, representatives of the Continental Congress, in Philadelphia. With Jefferson was a man from France. The young Gilbert du Motier, known as the Marquis de Lafayette, was a prominent French military office even at his very young age. With Washington was Prussian Baron Friedrich Wilhelm von Steuben. Both men spoke to the three revolutionaries about an old and powerful society known as the Timekeepers. Made up of the elite thinkers, noblemen, and politicians, the Timekeepers acted as metronome for the entire world, responsible for maintaining the rhythm and natural order of things. It was the Timekeepers that declared that the time of British hegemony in the Americas would begin to end. The colonies would win the war, Lafayette and von Steuben would help them.
In a ceremony in Philadelphia Washington, Adams, and Jefferson were inducted into the Timekeepers order and shown their secrets. The ancient society possessed powerful artifacts of supernatural nature and had access to magic. Using the Timekeepers' tools, the Colonies defeated England and declared their independence. In 1787 Washington was elected president of the United States, Adams his vice-president, and Jefferson appointed secretary of state. As part of the Timekeepers, all three men had been made immortal and given a serum that gave them special abilities. All three faked their deaths at appropriate times and went into hiding in Europe in the early 1800's.
In 1830 the three men discovered the Timekeepers' long and winding plot that would see the United States expand all the way to the Pacific ocean, and then shatter into two separate nations after a long and bloody civil war. The three founding fathers could not bear to see the country they founded destroyed. Defying their society, the men fled Europe and returned to US. They used whatever means they could to stop and delay civil war, influencing politics from the shadows. In 1860 they used their hidden influence to elect a man who would keep the Union together: Abraham Lincoln. They revealed themselves to him and covertly worked with Lincoln throughout the war. The Timekeepers discovered the founding father's treachery and turned on them. Unable to stop the Union from winning the war, they had Lincoln assassinated in revenge. This did not stop the Founders, who used their magic to bring Lincoln back from the grave days after he was killed.
Europe and the powers that controlled it could no longer be trusted. The old world could never govern nor control the new. The four presidents founded the Executive Branch. It served as a clandestine organization that would protect and fight for the United States, her interest, and freedom any place and anywhere. Their ranks are made up of former American presidents and other historical figures, each of them turned immortal in the same way the three founders were. Their long war with the Timekeepers ended after the First World War, when the last remnants of the old and rotten society were swept away in the fiery cataclysm of the war.
Now in 2015, they wage clandestine wars against a variety of threats that include the Secret Soviet Union, the Fourth Reich, and the Roman Republic of Zombies. But something dark and unknown lurks on the outer reaches of the world. A darkness is setting in, and an old power is returning to take control.
Roosevelt Backstory
Theodore Roosevelt was born in 1858 to a prominent New York family. The young "Teddy" had several adventures, from becoming a boxing champion at Harvard to a historian and politician, to cowboy and sheriff's deputy in Montana, before he ventured into public service. He served as the first Commissioner of the New York Police Department and helped the expanding city's police develop into a true metropolitan police force. He served as Assistant Secretary of the Navy before the outbreak of the Spanish-American War caused him to resign his office and recruit his own cavalry regiment to the fight the war.
As Colonel Roosevelt leading the Rough Riders, Teddy accomplished military victories in Cuba that launched his political career further. He ran and was elected as Governor of New York and began a crusade for public reform. The powers that be in New York became scared of Roosevelt and out-maneuvered him by having him nominated as Vice-President under incumbent William McKinley, tossing Roosevelt out of the governor's mansion and in a meaningless post for four years. An assassin's bullet changed everything.
When McKinley died, Roosevelt became President and pushed forward with the rapid expansion of American military and industrial might, as well as reform in industry, government, and business. He finished McKinley's term and was reelected in a landslide. He decided not to seek a third term and handed the ball to his good friend William Howard Taft. Roosevelt in retirement watched Taft's presidency with a critical eye. He judged that his friend has mismanaged the cause of the Progressives and decided to run for president again in 1912 as a third party candidate in the "Bull Moose Party" the bitter election between Roosevelt and Taft caused the two men to split the Republican and Progressive vote, allowing Democrat Woodrow Wilson to be elected.
Roosevelt watched powerlessly while Wilson guided America into the First World War, a role he believed he should have done. His failing health only worsened when he learned the devastating news that his youngest son Quentin's plane had been shot down over France. The man who had always loved the thrill of combat had the brutal truths of war brought home to him. He died less than a year later at the age of sixty.
Shortly after the war the Executive Branch exhumed his body and brought him back to life. Immortal and reinvigorated, Roosevelt tried to work his way out of the loss of his son. As an operative he participated in OPERATION: SCAR in Chicago to root out occultist bootleggers in 1924 and OPERATION: DAGGER STEADY in 1936 involving the growing mystic powers of the Nazi Thule Society. During the outbreak of the Second World War Roosevelt was active in all theaters, from stealing the German Enigma Code with Abraham Lincoln to battling a Japanese sorceress with his old rival Taft. After the collapse of the Third Reich and the retreat of the Fourth Reich, the Executive Branch dug in to support freedom during the long Cold War with the Soviet Union and their counterpart to the EB, the Heroes of Lenin.
The collapse of the Soviet Union and the emergence of terrorism as the main concern of the day means that Roosevelt and his colleagues have had to change up their way of doing things to protect the world from threats.
Hero Type: Normal
Power Level: Street Level
Powers: None
Attributes: Roosevelt is an expert marksman with his fabled elephant gun as well as a skilled combatant in a variety of hand to hand fighting styles. Executive Branch training has also given him proficient espionage and spycraft abilities.
Strength Level: Normal Human.
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Normal Human
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Mastered
Resources: Extreme
Weaknesses: Roosevelt is immortal and cannot die of old age or disease, but he can be killed.
Supporting Characters:
Franklin D. Roosevelt - Theodore's cousin, director of operations for the Executive Branch
Abraham Lincoln - Fellow Executive Branch field agent
John F. Kennedy - Fellow Executive Branch field agent
Andrew Jackson - Fellow Executive Branch field agent
Fredrick II "Fredrick the Great" - Former Timekeeper grandmaster, Roosevelt nemesis
Lyudmila Pavlichenko - Soviet Sniper, Secret Soviet Union agent, Roosevelt love interest
Richard Nixon - Executive Branch's resident mage and mystic expert
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Yes.
Sample Post (Minimum Four paragraphs containing dialogue. As this is an Advanced Level game, Sample must also meet the RPG forum's minimum requirement of 12 lines):
MacArthur Island
South Pacific
13:33 Local Time
"What a scoundrel," Theodore Roosevelt snarled. "The audacity, the sheer hair-brained folly of it all."
The 26th president paced the floors of the small cell he found himself in while the 16th president sat on the cell's cot with his legs crossed. The enclosure's six by eight feet space made it a tight space for the two men, especially when one man was of Lincoln's height and one of Roosevelt's girth. While Roosevelt paced and grumbled, Lincoln breathed slowly and closed his eyes. His many years on the planet had opened his mind up to new experiences and ideas. The idea of meditation was one of those ideas he fully embraced when he learned of it. The truth was he had been doing something similar to meditation all his life without knowing what it was. His ability to slow down and think a crisis over rationally helped him through the Civil War and the adventurous years that followed.
Men like Theodore and MacArthur thrived when they had the initiative, they needed to be engaged in activity lest they stop and have to face doubts and second guesses within their own mind. For Abraham Lincoln, those voices needed to be faced. It was only until a problem was observed from its many sides could a plan of action be surmised. It was better to be a little slow and make the right choice, then to rush into disaster.
"Mr. Lincoln?!" Roosevelt said loudly. "Are you paying attention? Only we can stop MacArthur's Mongol hordes from rampaging across the globe and ushering in a new age of barbarism controlled by that buffoon and all you can do is yoga?! My God, man, the time has come to save the world. You are a Republican, Mr. Lincoln. Act like it!"
Lincoln opened his eyes a smidge and smiled at Roosevelt through half-closed lids.
"When I was a circuit lawyer in Illinois some years ago, I defended a man who had been accused of stealing his neighbor's chickens. The neighbor got up on the stand and railed about how we saw the accused hanging around his home the night of the theft, about how the accused was eating many chickens over the next few days..."
He searched through the pockets of his suit and vest coat as he spoke, ignoring the annoyed look on Roosevelt's face.
"But I asked him, 'Mr. So-and-so,' I can't rightly recall his name, 'Mr. So-and-so, did you see the defendant steal those chickens?' And he said 'No, but I know my neighbor and he is a scoundrel of the lowest quality--' and I cut him off and said 'Assumption has no place in a court of law, Mr. So-and-so. You have no proof.' Well...," Lincoln flashed a smirk. "I trotted out a bunch of character witnesses. This man was a God fearing man, a community pillar, a man who was seen by many as a leading light in the time... and I lost the trial anyway, the jury didn't give a hoot about assumption or character. This pillar of the community was forever known as a chicken thief. Point of the story is this, you think you know someone, but you don't. You never really do, I suppose. MacArthur thinks he knows us, but he doesn't. Even though he's made a career out of analyzing an opponent's mind, he still does not know us fully--"
With a rip on his suit vest, Lincoln pulled a small item sewn into the cloth. He held up a lockpick into the dim lighting of the jail cell.
"And he has no idea of our little tricks."
--
The compound guard strolled down the corridor at an easy and slow pace. He felt a yawn come on and went to stifle it when a large hand wrapped itself around his mouth while another powerful hand grabbing his shoulder. The unseen attacker tossed him hard against the side of the wall and knocked the man unconscious before he could even scream. Lincoln searched the man and came up with a radio, a combat knife, and an automatic weapon he tossed to Roosevelt.
"What is the plan, sir," Roosevelt asked as he examined the weapon. Lincoln rolled his sleeves up past his elbows and slipped the guard's radio into his back pocket. The knife he palmed and felt the weight of the weapon.
"I will try to find the communications center of this facility and radio Franklin back at Rushmore."
"I believe I shall make a beeline for that lovely room where the Khan is being held."
"Always eager to lock horns with a Mongol warlord?" Lincoln asked with a smirk.
Roosevelt's face broke out into his large grin as he said, "Far and away the best prize life has to offer is the chance to beat an enemy in dire need of a good beating."
"Bully," Lincoln said as he disappeared down the corridor away from Roosevelt.
"Bully, indeed," Theodore said as he went in the opposite direction.
Character you have created: Theodore Roosevelt
Alias: None
Speech Color: Normal speech.
Character Alignment: Hero
Identity: His identity is known, the fact that he's still alive is secret.
Character Personality: Roosevelt is very gung-ho (bully!) and considers himself a man of action. He will not hesitate to do whatever he needs to do to accomplish his goals. His willingness for combat is a front at this point. He needs to fight to feel alive. Long stretches without missions throw him into a state of melancholy. With no family and no friends, he needs something to do to give him purpose and strength. His is a man who needs a mission and without a mission he falls apart.
Uniform/costume: Picture
Origin Info/Details:
Executive Branch Backstory
In 1776, the Second Continental Congress signed the Declaration of Independence and went to war with Great Britain. In early 1777 General George Washington met with John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, representatives of the Continental Congress, in Philadelphia. With Jefferson was a man from France. The young Gilbert du Motier, known as the Marquis de Lafayette, was a prominent French military office even at his very young age. With Washington was Prussian Baron Friedrich Wilhelm von Steuben. Both men spoke to the three revolutionaries about an old and powerful society known as the Timekeepers. Made up of the elite thinkers, noblemen, and politicians, the Timekeepers acted as metronome for the entire world, responsible for maintaining the rhythm and natural order of things. It was the Timekeepers that declared that the time of British hegemony in the Americas would begin to end. The colonies would win the war, Lafayette and von Steuben would help them.
In a ceremony in Philadelphia Washington, Adams, and Jefferson were inducted into the Timekeepers order and shown their secrets. The ancient society possessed powerful artifacts of supernatural nature and had access to magic. Using the Timekeepers' tools, the Colonies defeated England and declared their independence. In 1787 Washington was elected president of the United States, Adams his vice-president, and Jefferson appointed secretary of state. As part of the Timekeepers, all three men had been made immortal and given a serum that gave them special abilities. All three faked their deaths at appropriate times and went into hiding in Europe in the early 1800's.
In 1830 the three men discovered the Timekeepers' long and winding plot that would see the United States expand all the way to the Pacific ocean, and then shatter into two separate nations after a long and bloody civil war. The three founding fathers could not bear to see the country they founded destroyed. Defying their society, the men fled Europe and returned to US. They used whatever means they could to stop and delay civil war, influencing politics from the shadows. In 1860 they used their hidden influence to elect a man who would keep the Union together: Abraham Lincoln. They revealed themselves to him and covertly worked with Lincoln throughout the war. The Timekeepers discovered the founding father's treachery and turned on them. Unable to stop the Union from winning the war, they had Lincoln assassinated in revenge. This did not stop the Founders, who used their magic to bring Lincoln back from the grave days after he was killed.
Europe and the powers that controlled it could no longer be trusted. The old world could never govern nor control the new. The four presidents founded the Executive Branch. It served as a clandestine organization that would protect and fight for the United States, her interest, and freedom any place and anywhere. Their ranks are made up of former American presidents and other historical figures, each of them turned immortal in the same way the three founders were. Their long war with the Timekeepers ended after the First World War, when the last remnants of the old and rotten society were swept away in the fiery cataclysm of the war.
Now in 2015, they wage clandestine wars against a variety of threats that include the Secret Soviet Union, the Fourth Reich, and the Roman Republic of Zombies. But something dark and unknown lurks on the outer reaches of the world. A darkness is setting in, and an old power is returning to take control.
Roosevelt Backstory
Theodore Roosevelt was born in 1858 to a prominent New York family. The young "Teddy" had several adventures, from becoming a boxing champion at Harvard to a historian and politician, to cowboy and sheriff's deputy in Montana, before he ventured into public service. He served as the first Commissioner of the New York Police Department and helped the expanding city's police develop into a true metropolitan police force. He served as Assistant Secretary of the Navy before the outbreak of the Spanish-American War caused him to resign his office and recruit his own cavalry regiment to the fight the war.
As Colonel Roosevelt leading the Rough Riders, Teddy accomplished military victories in Cuba that launched his political career further. He ran and was elected as Governor of New York and began a crusade for public reform. The powers that be in New York became scared of Roosevelt and out-maneuvered him by having him nominated as Vice-President under incumbent William McKinley, tossing Roosevelt out of the governor's mansion and in a meaningless post for four years. An assassin's bullet changed everything.
When McKinley died, Roosevelt became President and pushed forward with the rapid expansion of American military and industrial might, as well as reform in industry, government, and business. He finished McKinley's term and was reelected in a landslide. He decided not to seek a third term and handed the ball to his good friend William Howard Taft. Roosevelt in retirement watched Taft's presidency with a critical eye. He judged that his friend has mismanaged the cause of the Progressives and decided to run for president again in 1912 as a third party candidate in the "Bull Moose Party" the bitter election between Roosevelt and Taft caused the two men to split the Republican and Progressive vote, allowing Democrat Woodrow Wilson to be elected.
Roosevelt watched powerlessly while Wilson guided America into the First World War, a role he believed he should have done. His failing health only worsened when he learned the devastating news that his youngest son Quentin's plane had been shot down over France. The man who had always loved the thrill of combat had the brutal truths of war brought home to him. He died less than a year later at the age of sixty.
Shortly after the war the Executive Branch exhumed his body and brought him back to life. Immortal and reinvigorated, Roosevelt tried to work his way out of the loss of his son. As an operative he participated in OPERATION: SCAR in Chicago to root out occultist bootleggers in 1924 and OPERATION: DAGGER STEADY in 1936 involving the growing mystic powers of the Nazi Thule Society. During the outbreak of the Second World War Roosevelt was active in all theaters, from stealing the German Enigma Code with Abraham Lincoln to battling a Japanese sorceress with his old rival Taft. After the collapse of the Third Reich and the retreat of the Fourth Reich, the Executive Branch dug in to support freedom during the long Cold War with the Soviet Union and their counterpart to the EB, the Heroes of Lenin.
The collapse of the Soviet Union and the emergence of terrorism as the main concern of the day means that Roosevelt and his colleagues have had to change up their way of doing things to protect the world from threats.
Hero Type: Normal
Power Level: Street Level
Powers: None
Attributes: Roosevelt is an expert marksman with his fabled elephant gun as well as a skilled combatant in a variety of hand to hand fighting styles. Executive Branch training has also given him proficient espionage and spycraft abilities.
Strength Level: Normal Human.
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Normal Human
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Mastered
Resources: Extreme
Weaknesses: Roosevelt is immortal and cannot die of old age or disease, but he can be killed.
Supporting Characters:
Franklin D. Roosevelt - Theodore's cousin, director of operations for the Executive Branch
Abraham Lincoln - Fellow Executive Branch field agent
John F. Kennedy - Fellow Executive Branch field agent
Andrew Jackson - Fellow Executive Branch field agent
Fredrick II "Fredrick the Great" - Former Timekeeper grandmaster, Roosevelt nemesis
Lyudmila Pavlichenko - Soviet Sniper, Secret Soviet Union agent, Roosevelt love interest
Richard Nixon - Executive Branch's resident mage and mystic expert
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Yes.
Sample Post (Minimum Four paragraphs containing dialogue. As this is an Advanced Level game, Sample must also meet the RPG forum's minimum requirement of 12 lines):
MacArthur Island
South Pacific
13:33 Local Time
"What a scoundrel," Theodore Roosevelt snarled. "The audacity, the sheer hair-brained folly of it all."
The 26th president paced the floors of the small cell he found himself in while the 16th president sat on the cell's cot with his legs crossed. The enclosure's six by eight feet space made it a tight space for the two men, especially when one man was of Lincoln's height and one of Roosevelt's girth. While Roosevelt paced and grumbled, Lincoln breathed slowly and closed his eyes. His many years on the planet had opened his mind up to new experiences and ideas. The idea of meditation was one of those ideas he fully embraced when he learned of it. The truth was he had been doing something similar to meditation all his life without knowing what it was. His ability to slow down and think a crisis over rationally helped him through the Civil War and the adventurous years that followed.
Men like Theodore and MacArthur thrived when they had the initiative, they needed to be engaged in activity lest they stop and have to face doubts and second guesses within their own mind. For Abraham Lincoln, those voices needed to be faced. It was only until a problem was observed from its many sides could a plan of action be surmised. It was better to be a little slow and make the right choice, then to rush into disaster.
"Mr. Lincoln?!" Roosevelt said loudly. "Are you paying attention? Only we can stop MacArthur's Mongol hordes from rampaging across the globe and ushering in a new age of barbarism controlled by that buffoon and all you can do is yoga?! My God, man, the time has come to save the world. You are a Republican, Mr. Lincoln. Act like it!"
Lincoln opened his eyes a smidge and smiled at Roosevelt through half-closed lids.
"When I was a circuit lawyer in Illinois some years ago, I defended a man who had been accused of stealing his neighbor's chickens. The neighbor got up on the stand and railed about how we saw the accused hanging around his home the night of the theft, about how the accused was eating many chickens over the next few days..."
He searched through the pockets of his suit and vest coat as he spoke, ignoring the annoyed look on Roosevelt's face.
"But I asked him, 'Mr. So-and-so,' I can't rightly recall his name, 'Mr. So-and-so, did you see the defendant steal those chickens?' And he said 'No, but I know my neighbor and he is a scoundrel of the lowest quality--' and I cut him off and said 'Assumption has no place in a court of law, Mr. So-and-so. You have no proof.' Well...," Lincoln flashed a smirk. "I trotted out a bunch of character witnesses. This man was a God fearing man, a community pillar, a man who was seen by many as a leading light in the time... and I lost the trial anyway, the jury didn't give a hoot about assumption or character. This pillar of the community was forever known as a chicken thief. Point of the story is this, you think you know someone, but you don't. You never really do, I suppose. MacArthur thinks he knows us, but he doesn't. Even though he's made a career out of analyzing an opponent's mind, he still does not know us fully--"
With a rip on his suit vest, Lincoln pulled a small item sewn into the cloth. He held up a lockpick into the dim lighting of the jail cell.
"And he has no idea of our little tricks."
--
The compound guard strolled down the corridor at an easy and slow pace. He felt a yawn come on and went to stifle it when a large hand wrapped itself around his mouth while another powerful hand grabbing his shoulder. The unseen attacker tossed him hard against the side of the wall and knocked the man unconscious before he could even scream. Lincoln searched the man and came up with a radio, a combat knife, and an automatic weapon he tossed to Roosevelt.
"What is the plan, sir," Roosevelt asked as he examined the weapon. Lincoln rolled his sleeves up past his elbows and slipped the guard's radio into his back pocket. The knife he palmed and felt the weight of the weapon.
"I will try to find the communications center of this facility and radio Franklin back at Rushmore."
"I believe I shall make a beeline for that lovely room where the Khan is being held."
"Always eager to lock horns with a Mongol warlord?" Lincoln asked with a smirk.
Roosevelt's face broke out into his large grin as he said, "Far and away the best prize life has to offer is the chance to beat an enemy in dire need of a good beating."
"Bully," Lincoln said as he disappeared down the corridor away from Roosevelt.
"Bully, indeed," Theodore said as he went in the opposite direction.
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N A M E
Katherine Annabelle Königin
A G E
16
A L I G N M E N T
Hero
A L I A S
Chrysalis
L O C A L E
Crescent City, California
T Y P E
Cosmic
L E V E L
City - World
A P P E A R A N C E
Katherine Königin is a conventional girl who has always had people gravitate towards her but she can be described easily and rather straight forward in general— she’s a prototypical youthful teenager with long blonde hair and cerulean blue eyes, soft complexion, average height, and a modest physical appearance that is still in the teenaged years of development. But even taking that into account there is something else about her that most people don’t notice; a darker presence following her and perhaps one that has made her expressiveness dulled and give an appearance of someone who is very world weary despite her young age and generally bright demeanor. However as inherent as this is it is also one that sits beneath half-hearted smiles and a warm yet friendly aura.
When transformed into a magical being this facade is dropped completely as scowls, furrowed brows, and aggressive expressions follow Katherine into battle. The cosmic energy also changes her appearance as well as radiating a presence that negates any outlook that this white-haired girl has any similarities to Katherine Königin. Beyond this presence and cosmetic changes to her natural appearance her transformation also changes her to bear the traditional garb of the wards of the Celestials with long fantastical coats, scattered armaments, and regal embroidery. Her long hair that is generally kept long as Katherine is also tied up in a ponytail with a fantastical bonding stringing it all together.
When transformed into a magical being this facade is dropped completely as scowls, furrowed brows, and aggressive expressions follow Katherine into battle. The cosmic energy also changes her appearance as well as radiating a presence that negates any outlook that this white-haired girl has any similarities to Katherine Königin. Beyond this presence and cosmetic changes to her natural appearance her transformation also changes her to bear the traditional garb of the wards of the Celestials with long fantastical coats, scattered armaments, and regal embroidery. Her long hair that is generally kept long as Katherine is also tied up in a ponytail with a fantastical bonding stringing it all together.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
A few years ago, Katherine was the average girl from Crescent City— idealistic, cheerful, and optimistic. But in the time since the ever-smiling exterior of the teenaged woman has shifted into ingenuity; as if behind her now half-hearted smile exists a girl who is burdened by life and the consequences of the world she lives in. A case that is definitely true. In the present day, Katherine is more of a cynical realist who looks to everyone with a gaze of distrust and wary discontent. However, beyond her cynicism, angst, dread, and other pessimistic traits there is still the same person there was before her mother’s murder occurred in some part. Her confident bravado, sense of humor, and dedication to what she cares about is all still very present. Though some of these traits have been twisted by her experiences as a superheroine as evident by her streak of overbearing arrogance in not only her role as a protector but in her day-to-day mundane life. As she moves forward in her life she feels weary of her attachments to her “old self”; a fact that she reflects on daily as she remembers it was Katherine before the contract was the one who failed her mother and needed the powers she so desired that have burdened her since.
But despite the burdens placed upon her shoulders, she is not completely hopeless nor does she believe in that the world can be changed— she just has misgivings about who she is protecting and their own sinful souls that reside behind a facade of innocence; because there are few who are truly innocent. Even then, Katherine has sworn not only through her contract but to herself that she would protect others from a fate they don’t deserve, that senseless loss and death will not be accepted by her hands.
But despite the burdens placed upon her shoulders, she is not completely hopeless nor does she believe in that the world can be changed— she just has misgivings about who she is protecting and their own sinful souls that reside behind a facade of innocence; because there are few who are truly innocent. Even then, Katherine has sworn not only through her contract but to herself that she would protect others from a fate they don’t deserve, that senseless loss and death will not be accepted by her hands.
O R I G I N
By all appearances, the childhood of Katherine Königin was one of unremarkable mundanity— never could she imagine what sort of responsibilities would fall on her shoulders when she became sixteen years old and her life would begin to take a dramatic and extraordinary turn that would change everything she had ever known. Katherine was born in Crescent City only a few days after the bells of the new millennium rang and was raised by her parents in what could only be described as an “idyllic” environment in a upper middle class suburban neighborhood that had little strife and issues to speak of; a sort of perfection that Katherine and her friends would jokingly call plastic and fake for the majority of their childhood as they explored without worry of consequence. Despite this though Katherine was not naïve in her upbringing nor was she snobbish like many others in the neighborhood; a reality that was due in part to the parentage of her father, Detective Jonathan Konigin, who molded Katherine’s morals and ideals from the onset alongside his morally-inclined wife who worked as a nationally regarded medical practitioner and socialite.
But despite all of the “perfection” that existed in Katherine’s childhood, it wasn’t to last forever. Whilst at a High School theatrical production where Katherine played the lead role a tension began to fill the air and not one from her prospective performance but rather on what was to come that she couldn’t at the time possibly be aware of. This was also be significant as it was the first time she would cross paths with the celestial alien lifeform known as Queon, though she would write off such appearance as her imagining things until their first real meeting several weeks later. Harboring an interest in Katherine, Queon had found himself interested with the girl’s moral compass, cosmic potential, and the tragedy itself that had prevented her mother from attending the play— the tragedy that had prevented her mother from surviving a chance encounter with a man outside the hospital of which where she worked; a man that had driven a knife through her throat.
The loss of Dr. Priscilla Königin was one that drove a wedge in the consciousness of the family; not only because of the sudden loss of the optimistic and idealistic matriarch of the family but also the brutality and ruthlessness of the murder itself. Katherine was appalled by the vicious crime, her younger sister was shocked by the happening, and her father was furious— all understandable emotions to feel regarding the situation they had been forced to experience. Dedicated by solving his wife’s murder, Detective Jonathan Konigin worked around the clock to pick up the pieces through dedicated investigative police-work where he and his team of fellow homicide detectives and forensic scientists began putting together the pieces. Tracking everything back to a young eccentric Silicon Valley-type millionaire by the name of Patrick Wells the long process of arresting and proving the murder was on Wells’ hands became the principal issue as Wells’ lawyer had evidence thrown out as circumstantial, poked holes in the prosecution’s arguments, and cleverly fabricated evidence that “proved” Wells was innocent. The police worked faster and harder, but ultimately the case was thrown out as a mistrial due to several factors and the millionaire savant walked freely and smugly that he got away with it.
The victory of Patrick Wells is what caused Queon to appear before Katherine in the darkness of the night. It was here that the celestial being proposed several pragmatic questions as he explained to her what he was and why he was on the planet Earth— and why he needed Katherine’s help. And that is where Katherine’s story begins.
But despite all of the “perfection” that existed in Katherine’s childhood, it wasn’t to last forever. Whilst at a High School theatrical production where Katherine played the lead role a tension began to fill the air and not one from her prospective performance but rather on what was to come that she couldn’t at the time possibly be aware of. This was also be significant as it was the first time she would cross paths with the celestial alien lifeform known as Queon, though she would write off such appearance as her imagining things until their first real meeting several weeks later. Harboring an interest in Katherine, Queon had found himself interested with the girl’s moral compass, cosmic potential, and the tragedy itself that had prevented her mother from attending the play— the tragedy that had prevented her mother from surviving a chance encounter with a man outside the hospital of which where she worked; a man that had driven a knife through her throat.
The loss of Dr. Priscilla Königin was one that drove a wedge in the consciousness of the family; not only because of the sudden loss of the optimistic and idealistic matriarch of the family but also the brutality and ruthlessness of the murder itself. Katherine was appalled by the vicious crime, her younger sister was shocked by the happening, and her father was furious— all understandable emotions to feel regarding the situation they had been forced to experience. Dedicated by solving his wife’s murder, Detective Jonathan Konigin worked around the clock to pick up the pieces through dedicated investigative police-work where he and his team of fellow homicide detectives and forensic scientists began putting together the pieces. Tracking everything back to a young eccentric Silicon Valley-type millionaire by the name of Patrick Wells the long process of arresting and proving the murder was on Wells’ hands became the principal issue as Wells’ lawyer had evidence thrown out as circumstantial, poked holes in the prosecution’s arguments, and cleverly fabricated evidence that “proved” Wells was innocent. The police worked faster and harder, but ultimately the case was thrown out as a mistrial due to several factors and the millionaire savant walked freely and smugly that he got away with it.
The victory of Patrick Wells is what caused Queon to appear before Katherine in the darkness of the night. It was here that the celestial being proposed several pragmatic questions as he explained to her what he was and why he was on the planet Earth— and why he needed Katherine’s help. And that is where Katherine’s story begins.
T A L E N T S
Celestial-imbued Physiology: The cosmic beings simply known as “Celestials” have been monitors of the universe since time immaterial and as such have taken wards of various species to be their guardians, sentinels, and wardens against various threats on a galactic level. As the ward of a celestial, Katherine is imbued with cosmic energy to become effectively superhuman. These abilities are vast and can be summed to various effects such as god-like strength, speed, endurance, reflexes, and restorative abilities.
- Superhuman Strength: Katherine’s strength level varies on her concentration, stamina, and endurance but ultimately it is safe to assume she is on par with what she tends to fight as a general rule. Her strength allows her to punch through concentrated steel, throw automobiles almost effortlessly, and possibly hold up at least two-hundred thousand tons of weight for a short duration of time.
- Heightened Reflexes: The cosmic energy that runs through Katherine has gained her heightened reflexes so she can react quicker and faster when dodging enemy attacks as well as perceiving situations around her more efficiently. While she doesn’t have a “sixth sense” or anything of the sort it is described that her predecessors could perceive monstrous attacks fast enough to react to dodge them.
- Levitation: Using the cosmic energy within her Katherine can levitate in the air giving the appearance of flight as well as move at various levels of speed when being imbued with enough energy to allow her to levitate— though the harder she pushes herself the more stress it will put on her.
- Healing Factor: Katherine can recover from various wounds after a time of recovery; though such restoration of her vitality cannot be achieved within her “active” form.
W E A K N E S S E S
While the abilities gained from being linked with a cosmic being have fundamentally given Katherine superhuman abilities it does come with several critical flaws, weaknesses, and limitations with most notably being that of her stamina and endurance as well as her mental state. In short Katherine is not invulnerable by any definition as a various amount of damage can be placed upon her by various effects— in the end she is still just an altered humanoid who can feel pain, bleed, and potentially die from exertions from other beings. Ultimately when her cosmic energy is depleted and her soul destroyed there will be no possibility of her recovering from any wounds.
C A S T
Queon of the Celestials: The cosmic being that Katherine made her contract with and her mentor in her newfound mission against the Abyssals.
Robeatics Codename: Fupa
Member
Seen
5 yrs ago
Character you have created: Lisa Hernandez
Alias: Subject GE-04
Speech Color: Blue
Character Alignment: Walking the Line
Identity: Secret
Character Personality: Lisa doesn’t remember anything before her Meta transformation. She is wary of everyone, and will lash out if she feels threatened or startled, with often disastrous results. She doesn’t have much of a moral compass, and makes little distinction between right and wrong, having forgotten important lessons about justice and equality from her old life. She has no concept of personal space once she recognizes someone as nonthreatening, though hates being touched if she hasn’t initiated the contact first. She is very gullible once she thinks she can trust someone, though only remains loyal for as long as her new ally can keep her interested. In calmer moments, she likes to stare at the sky and nature. Nighttime, dark colors, and silence relaxes her the most.
Hero Type: Brick/Psychic
Power Level: World Level
Weaknesses: In her current state, she can barely control her psychic powers, and the feeling of unwillingly probing strangers’ minds causes her great distress. She has difficulty reading the minds of other Metas. She also doesn’t know her own strength or speed, and can bash into buildings or break things if she isn’t extremely careful. She's weaker to attacks utilizing superheated flame, plasma, extreme cold and the like, while supremely high-voltage electricity and strong magic are potent methods of incapacitation. She can’t break her wrist cuffs on her own, which deliver an agonizing shock if tampered with. She's easily distressed by the sight of blood.
Alias: Subject GE-04
Speech Color: Blue
Character Alignment: Walking the Line
Identity: Secret
Character Personality: Lisa doesn’t remember anything before her Meta transformation. She is wary of everyone, and will lash out if she feels threatened or startled, with often disastrous results. She doesn’t have much of a moral compass, and makes little distinction between right and wrong, having forgotten important lessons about justice and equality from her old life. She has no concept of personal space once she recognizes someone as nonthreatening, though hates being touched if she hasn’t initiated the contact first. She is very gullible once she thinks she can trust someone, though only remains loyal for as long as her new ally can keep her interested. In calmer moments, she likes to stare at the sky and nature. Nighttime, dark colors, and silence relaxes her the most.
Origin Info
Born and raised in Chicago, Lisa Hernandez had a perfectly normal childhood: her parents were loving, and had money to spend considering she was their only child. Lisa fostered a deep love for painting from an early age, and, after receiving a Hispanic scholarship from Lost Haven University, was well on her way to fulfilling her dream of becoming a professional illustrator. She worked hard in college, enough to catch the eye of one of the younger biology professors. Dr. Gregory Toothman was the talk of the science department, and soon swept Lisa off her feet. She graduated, and not long after, married Dr. Toothman. His connections opened up opportunities Lisa couldn’t have dreamed of, and while she was working happily in her dream career, he was making a name for himself in the scientific community of Lost Haven.
With the help of a new, better-paying job working for a private company, Dr. Toothman bought his new wife a large home in the suburbs outside Lost Haven. Lisa was pregnant, and after giving birth to their son Thomas, was happy to work from home and take care of the baby. Soon her baby became an energetic little boy, who was always happy to greet his father after his long absences on the job. Lisa had stopped trying to glean any information from her husband about what he did at his job, and was content to live her life without ever knowing. She became pregnant again, and this time she had a daughter named Maria. Dr. Toothman had been gone for days leading up to Lisa’s labor, and she was alone in the hospital while she recovered.
She returned to an empty house. Upset by her husband’s absence, she entered his office, determined to know at least something about the career that forced him to miss his daughter’s birth. She found more than she bargained for--files on several people dubbed simply “Subject”, charts attached to some of the files that mapped their status over time. The worst of it was the samples: tiny vials filled with blood, but some of the samples were near-black, and moved slower in their vials. It was disturbing, like something out of a science fiction movie. She left his office quickly, and said nothing to her husband when he returned. But those files and samples gnawed at her with a question she’d been asking herself for years, and finally she needed an answer. She planted a simple tracker into Dr. Toothman’s car, and traced it to the countryside beyond Lost Haven’s city limits. The tracker went dead just minutes before she could meet its location, and before she could turn back and go home, her car was ambushed, and she was captured.
She awoke to a sterile table, doctors, scientists, and needles.
The years wore her down. She accepted her fate after a while, and hoped one of the many tests she was put through daily would eventually kill her. She forgot the faces of her children, her parents, and her husband. After a while, she forgot her own face. Then her name. She was only another subject, GE-04, a designation tattooed on her body like a brand.
The scientists seemed pleased by her reactions to the serum they pumped into her every few months. She could feel her body change over that time, her baby fat disappearing, replaced by muscles she never knew she had. After years of hell, her last day seemed like any other. She was wheeled into a familiar operating room, her arms and legs bound by huge cuffs on her wrists and ankles. She didn’t flinch when they injected her with more serum, needle after needle in different places. A tingling began in her chest before it spread, out and out, burning, melting her down to nothing, until she was blinded by the scorching rays. In the distance she felt her husband’s presence and heard her children’s voices, somewhere beyond the pyre, beyond the room.
When she awoke, she was running. Desperate, nameless, lost. The world was a blur of darkness and pain. She had no idea from where or to where she was running, only ran, faster and faster, until the loud noises stopped and she could rest.
Born and raised in Chicago, Lisa Hernandez had a perfectly normal childhood: her parents were loving, and had money to spend considering she was their only child. Lisa fostered a deep love for painting from an early age, and, after receiving a Hispanic scholarship from Lost Haven University, was well on her way to fulfilling her dream of becoming a professional illustrator. She worked hard in college, enough to catch the eye of one of the younger biology professors. Dr. Gregory Toothman was the talk of the science department, and soon swept Lisa off her feet. She graduated, and not long after, married Dr. Toothman. His connections opened up opportunities Lisa couldn’t have dreamed of, and while she was working happily in her dream career, he was making a name for himself in the scientific community of Lost Haven.
With the help of a new, better-paying job working for a private company, Dr. Toothman bought his new wife a large home in the suburbs outside Lost Haven. Lisa was pregnant, and after giving birth to their son Thomas, was happy to work from home and take care of the baby. Soon her baby became an energetic little boy, who was always happy to greet his father after his long absences on the job. Lisa had stopped trying to glean any information from her husband about what he did at his job, and was content to live her life without ever knowing. She became pregnant again, and this time she had a daughter named Maria. Dr. Toothman had been gone for days leading up to Lisa’s labor, and she was alone in the hospital while she recovered.
She returned to an empty house. Upset by her husband’s absence, she entered his office, determined to know at least something about the career that forced him to miss his daughter’s birth. She found more than she bargained for--files on several people dubbed simply “Subject”, charts attached to some of the files that mapped their status over time. The worst of it was the samples: tiny vials filled with blood, but some of the samples were near-black, and moved slower in their vials. It was disturbing, like something out of a science fiction movie. She left his office quickly, and said nothing to her husband when he returned. But those files and samples gnawed at her with a question she’d been asking herself for years, and finally she needed an answer. She planted a simple tracker into Dr. Toothman’s car, and traced it to the countryside beyond Lost Haven’s city limits. The tracker went dead just minutes before she could meet its location, and before she could turn back and go home, her car was ambushed, and she was captured.
She awoke to a sterile table, doctors, scientists, and needles.
The years wore her down. She accepted her fate after a while, and hoped one of the many tests she was put through daily would eventually kill her. She forgot the faces of her children, her parents, and her husband. After a while, she forgot her own face. Then her name. She was only another subject, GE-04, a designation tattooed on her body like a brand.
The scientists seemed pleased by her reactions to the serum they pumped into her every few months. She could feel her body change over that time, her baby fat disappearing, replaced by muscles she never knew she had. After years of hell, her last day seemed like any other. She was wheeled into a familiar operating room, her arms and legs bound by huge cuffs on her wrists and ankles. She didn’t flinch when they injected her with more serum, needle after needle in different places. A tingling began in her chest before it spread, out and out, burning, melting her down to nothing, until she was blinded by the scorching rays. In the distance she felt her husband’s presence and heard her children’s voices, somewhere beyond the pyre, beyond the room.
When she awoke, she was running. Desperate, nameless, lost. The world was a blur of darkness and pain. She had no idea from where or to where she was running, only ran, faster and faster, until the loud noises stopped and she could rest.
Hero Type: Brick/Psychic
Power Level: World Level
Powers
Evolution: GE-04 has yet to metabolize the last of the serum, and as such her powers are not yet at their full potential. As certain catalysts and stressors are introduced, her full strength, speed, and other attributes will be realized. ((Note: I'll only introduce the range of her powers that were accepted the first time I submitted my CS. Any additions that weren't originally accepted will be cleared with a GM beforehand.))
Empath: Subject GE-04 can tap into the minds of others and read their thoughts. Currently, she cannot control or direct her power, and indiscriminately picks up on the surface emotions of others in a disorienting mess. The harsher the emotions, the more agitated she becomes. Yellow-white light sparks from her eyes, shining brighter as she pushes her power further.
Endurance: Few things can actually harm GE-04. Bullets crumple against her skin like spitballs, poison is metabolized as smoothly as candy, and disease doesn't seem to affect her in any way.
Super-Speed: GE-04’s maximum running speed currently clocks in at around 300 MPH.
Rudimentary Flight: If GE-04 focuses, she can float. Having only recently discovered this power, she can move neither quickly nor meaningfully in any direction but upward. If her focus breaks, she will fall.
Evolution: GE-04 has yet to metabolize the last of the serum, and as such her powers are not yet at their full potential. As certain catalysts and stressors are introduced, her full strength, speed, and other attributes will be realized. ((Note: I'll only introduce the range of her powers that were accepted the first time I submitted my CS. Any additions that weren't originally accepted will be cleared with a GM beforehand.))
Empath: Subject GE-04 can tap into the minds of others and read their thoughts. Currently, she cannot control or direct her power, and indiscriminately picks up on the surface emotions of others in a disorienting mess. The harsher the emotions, the more agitated she becomes. Yellow-white light sparks from her eyes, shining brighter as she pushes her power further.
Endurance: Few things can actually harm GE-04. Bullets crumple against her skin like spitballs, poison is metabolized as smoothly as candy, and disease doesn't seem to affect her in any way.
Super-Speed: GE-04’s maximum running speed currently clocks in at around 300 MPH.
Rudimentary Flight: If GE-04 focuses, she can float. Having only recently discovered this power, she can move neither quickly nor meaningfully in any direction but upward. If her focus breaks, she will fall.
Attributes (Currently)
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 180 lbs
Strength Level: 20 Tons
Speed Level: 300 MPH
Reaction Time: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 1 hour
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Resources: Minimal
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 180 lbs
Strength Level: 20 Tons
Speed Level: 300 MPH
Reaction Time: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 1 hour
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Resources: Minimal
Weaknesses: In her current state, she can barely control her psychic powers, and the feeling of unwillingly probing strangers’ minds causes her great distress. She has difficulty reading the minds of other Metas. She also doesn’t know her own strength or speed, and can bash into buildings or break things if she isn’t extremely careful. She's weaker to attacks utilizing superheated flame, plasma, extreme cold and the like, while supremely high-voltage electricity and strong magic are potent methods of incapacitation. She can’t break her wrist cuffs on her own, which deliver an agonizing shock if tampered with. She's easily distressed by the sight of blood.
Supporting Characters
Dr. Gregory Toothman
Lisa’s ex-husband. A scientist working for Gene Co’s Black Project branch. Has cut all ties with his former life.
Thomas Carver
Lisa’s son. Eleven years old. Adopted into a family with his little sister. Doesn’t realize his parents are alive.
Maria Carver
Lisa’s daughter. Seven years old.
Dr. Gregory Toothman
Lisa’s ex-husband. A scientist working for Gene Co’s Black Project branch. Has cut all ties with his former life.
Thomas Carver
Lisa’s son. Eleven years old. Adopted into a family with his little sister. Doesn’t realize his parents are alive.
Maria Carver
Lisa’s daughter. Seven years old.
Character you have created: 
Alias: Jaden Maxwell
Speech Color (Actually say what you're using): Aqua
Character Alignment: Hero
Identity: Secret
Character Personality: Jaden is for all intents and purposes a rather easygoing and calm individual. He enjoys life for what it is and tries not to worry too much about the future. Growing up with his Aunt and Uncle bestowed on him the values of hard work and independence, as such when he commits himself to something he tends to see it through, regardless of the consequences. Being a fanboy of anything related to anime or video games, when he runs into someone who shares what he is into, he can get surprisingly passionate and ecstatic, to the point that he briefly stops acting his age.
Inspired by the comics he read growing up, he has a strong sense of justice and morals and tries to see the good in people along with being willing to stand up for those who can't do so for themselves. He does not want to see anyone else suffer the tragedy of lost loved ones, but that does not mean he is blind to the real world either. He is aware that unfortunate things happen regardless of what one does in life but does not see that as a reason to do nothing either.
He does have a fun-loving side to him too, sometimes using his power to pull off jokes or pranks on his friends all in good fun.
Uniform/costume: Back when he was human, his appearance was that of a young fair-skinned man with jet black hair in a crop cut with brown eyes and weighing around 200 pounds. He stood about 5 foot 10 inches and typically wore clothing that fit the climate, such as tank tops and shorts during warmer months and baggy pants and sweatshirts during the fall and winter.
Thanks to being transformed into a living plant, Evergreen is capable of morphing himself into a wide range of plant-based appearances. Here are a few examples:
Origin Info/Details: Jaden had, for the most part, a normal upbringing growing up. He was born to a loving Mom and Dad who took good care of him for the first few years of his life and he had an Aunt and Uncle who thought the world of him that he frequently visited on the weekends or during the holidays. However, when he was about 7 years old...tragedy struck.
One night, he was at his Aunt's place watching cartoons when the phone rang. His Aunt went to answer it only to drop the dish she'd been drying in horror at what the police man on the other end had told her. Mr and Mrs Maxwell had been on their way home when a drunk driver slammed into them, killing both parents at once. Needless to say, it was like Jaden's entire world had come crumbling down in the course of just one night.
After the funeral, Jaden was taken in by his Aunt and Uncle and it quickly became evident that despite the fact that they treated him well, that life was not going to be easy since both relatives were in their elderly years and they did not have too much money. As such, Jaden had to learn at a young age to pitch in and be self-sufficient, helping his folks around the house and gradually learned skills such as cooking, cleaning dishes and even pulling weeds out of the garden. It didn't help that they ended up having to move twice even before he got into high school.
Life was difficult but it wasn't bad by any means as the young lad excelled in his classes and enjoyed helping others with their work. He took on a part-time job at one point to help his folks too. Of course, he sometimes let himself get lost in video games and anime as he got older. Eventually, he graduated from high school to the delight of his Aunt and Uncle and seemed to have a bright future ahead of him.
However, that's when his life took a most unexpected turn. During one summer, he took part in a field trip set up by a club he use to be part of that were planting trees in an area that had recently been decimated by a wildfire. During the program, Jaden caught sight of a bear cub that had slipped into the water and was now heading down the stream towards a waterfall. Without thinking, he risked his life to save the cub and return it to its family. Despite not thinking much of it, someone else took notice of his act...
That night, he was visited by a voice in his dreams. The voice introduced itself as Gaia, Spirit Of The Earth. It had watched the man's act and, despite its usual indifference towards humans, had been intrigued by his selfless act despite the fact he had risked his life and got no reward out of it. He explained that he didn't do it for a reward but because it was the right thing to do and that he didn't want anyone else to endure the pain of lost loved ones.
Growing ever more intrigued with him, the spirit handed him what she called the "Seed Of Gaia" and that she would give him the chance to prove to her that humans and the Earth could co-exist together. With that, the dream ended...Jaden thought no more of it.
One night though, he was in his room, doing some reading when he heard a commotion downstairs. Going to check, he saw several men in black suits ransacking the place while holding his Aunt and Uncle at knife point.
For a brief moment, he felt like a small boy all over again, like history was about to repeat itself...but not if he had anything to say about it. When the men saw him, they shot the young man on the spot...only for his wound to heal up within seconds, causing all those present to freeze in shock. Anger fueling his actions, Jaden's power activated and vines broke through the windows and floorboards, disarming the men and slamming their bodies against the walls over and over again with enough force to shatter the plaster.
However, just when it looked like he was ready to do the unthinkable and take their lives...his Aunt and Uncle's voices brought him back to reality. He collapsed to his knees, sobbing and wondering what he had become. His folks consoled him as the would-be murderers were taken into custody, likely traumatized for life by the ordeal. The police asked questions but nobody was in the mood to give the actual story.
After having some time to calm down, and being reminded that his Aunt and Uncle still loved him, it was decided that he needed to learn control since the world was likely not ready for an individual like Jaden. As such, the next week or so saw him practicing with his new abilities and growing quite adept at them. His body underwent more changes until he instinctively created a new identity for himself to go with his new form.
It was around this point that an event happened that awoke his inner hero and made him realize that his powers were meant for bigger things. A powerful Fae had come to his town by the name of Glastig and, true to the myths surrounding her, went about luring in unsuspecting men and draining them of their blood, leaving lifeless corpses in her wake, meant to gather strength as her followers constructed the pieces for a gate that would open a way to the Fae Realm and allow her army to come through.
After several close calls, and having his family's lives endangered, Evergreen cornered and exposed Glastig, in the process destroying the gate and closing one of the links to the Fae Realm for good. One lengthy battle later, Glastig was defeated. Evergreen refused to kill her...but that didn't mean he or Gaia let her off the hook either.
In an event that still haunts him, Gaia, manifesting physically, transformed Glastig into a plant entity...and then Evergreen transformed the fallen Fae into a tree for the rest of her days. Victory was his...but at the price of never again reclaiming a normal life.
For a time, things went well. Jaden kept his identity a secret. He used his powers to secretly bring life and prosperity to neighboring farms and communities, sometimes travelling further to places that needed him. Of course, he always felt like there was more he needed to do...
Gaia heard his wish and informed him of more places with potential gates, namely a place called Lost Haven that was emitting huge amounts of magical energy. So, with his family's blessings and using a cover of a Herbs and Medicine shop, Jaden left his town behind and headed off to Maine...
What changes to the world will he bring as Gaia's Champion? Only time will tell...
Hero Type (Select one): Elemental
Power Level (Select one below): World Level (Potential for Cosmic Level depending on development)
Powers (Be Specific):
Plant Manipulation: The power to control any and all plants and forms of flora within an area. The uses for this power are vast and varied, giving it immense versatility and almost unrivaled destructive power if misused. His abilities are broken down into Passive and Active:
Attributes (Select one at each category):
Resources: Average
Weaknesses: Despite the enormous power and potential at his disposal, Jaden has a number of weaknesses, mainly related to his new physiology.
Element-based Weaknesses: Extreme Heat, Extreme Cold, and Lightning-based attacks are all quite effective against Evergreen, to the point they can even inhibit his Healing as long as he remains too close to the source of the attack. They are also much better at destroying his constructs than simple slashing or shooting. Even being in the general vicinity can make Evergreen quite uncomfortable. Lightning is particularly bad as it tends to leave him paralyzed for a short while afterwards.
Some of his abilities are only effective on creatures that are alive and have exposed skin. If Evergreen were to, say, use Poison on a machine, it would be useless since it is not an organic creature.
Supernatural creatures seem to have an innate resistance against things like poison and could likely expel it if left alone long enough though still be left very uncomfortable.
Sun and Water Dependence: Although Evergreen is powerful, much of his strength derives from his link to the natural world, namely the Sun and Water. Although he can operate for an extensive
period without them, he still needs to keep hydrated and so, being kept out of the light or away from water for a long enough period will start to slowly strip him of his strength and will to fight. His
constructs become easier to break and he heals only half as fast as he normally does.
Morality: Evergreen, being an extremely moral individual, does not enjoy using the more dangerous aspects of his power, even if they would make jobs easier, mostly due to risk of turning
into the very thing he wishes to stop and the chance of massive collateral damage. As such, fighting him in a populated area means he is more likely to hold back than he normally does.
Supporting Characters: Adrian Maxwell: Jaden's Uncle. Runs a store tailored to the maintaining of anything garden-related. A
rather tall, well-built man who at first seems rather imposing but actually has a big heart and values his loved ones and his work.
Laura Maxwell: Jaden's Aunt. A kind, sweet woman but at the same time not somebody you want to cross and more than willing to put her foot down if she feels something is going too far. She was even the one who taught Jaden to fight for what he believes in. Despite the changes happening, she and her husband trust Jaden to do what is right and make a difference.
Gaia: The spirit of the Earth itself and the one responsible for giving Jaden his powers and mission. She watches over and protects all life but in recent decades her power has started to wane due to pollution and humanity's wasteful ways and as a result she has begun to lose her faith in them and distance herself from them and their affairs. Despite this, she is willing to give Jaden a chance to prove her wrong.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:
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Sample Post:
Alias: Jaden Maxwell
Speech Color (Actually say what you're using): Aqua
Character Alignment: Hero
Identity: Secret
Character Personality: Jaden is for all intents and purposes a rather easygoing and calm individual. He enjoys life for what it is and tries not to worry too much about the future. Growing up with his Aunt and Uncle bestowed on him the values of hard work and independence, as such when he commits himself to something he tends to see it through, regardless of the consequences. Being a fanboy of anything related to anime or video games, when he runs into someone who shares what he is into, he can get surprisingly passionate and ecstatic, to the point that he briefly stops acting his age.
Inspired by the comics he read growing up, he has a strong sense of justice and morals and tries to see the good in people along with being willing to stand up for those who can't do so for themselves. He does not want to see anyone else suffer the tragedy of lost loved ones, but that does not mean he is blind to the real world either. He is aware that unfortunate things happen regardless of what one does in life but does not see that as a reason to do nothing either.
He does have a fun-loving side to him too, sometimes using his power to pull off jokes or pranks on his friends all in good fun.
Uniform/costume: Back when he was human, his appearance was that of a young fair-skinned man with jet black hair in a crop cut with brown eyes and weighing around 200 pounds. He stood about 5 foot 10 inches and typically wore clothing that fit the climate, such as tank tops and shorts during warmer months and baggy pants and sweatshirts during the fall and winter.
Thanks to being transformed into a living plant, Evergreen is capable of morphing himself into a wide range of plant-based appearances. Here are a few examples:
Origin Info/Details: Jaden had, for the most part, a normal upbringing growing up. He was born to a loving Mom and Dad who took good care of him for the first few years of his life and he had an Aunt and Uncle who thought the world of him that he frequently visited on the weekends or during the holidays. However, when he was about 7 years old...tragedy struck.
One night, he was at his Aunt's place watching cartoons when the phone rang. His Aunt went to answer it only to drop the dish she'd been drying in horror at what the police man on the other end had told her. Mr and Mrs Maxwell had been on their way home when a drunk driver slammed into them, killing both parents at once. Needless to say, it was like Jaden's entire world had come crumbling down in the course of just one night.
After the funeral, Jaden was taken in by his Aunt and Uncle and it quickly became evident that despite the fact that they treated him well, that life was not going to be easy since both relatives were in their elderly years and they did not have too much money. As such, Jaden had to learn at a young age to pitch in and be self-sufficient, helping his folks around the house and gradually learned skills such as cooking, cleaning dishes and even pulling weeds out of the garden. It didn't help that they ended up having to move twice even before he got into high school.
Life was difficult but it wasn't bad by any means as the young lad excelled in his classes and enjoyed helping others with their work. He took on a part-time job at one point to help his folks too. Of course, he sometimes let himself get lost in video games and anime as he got older. Eventually, he graduated from high school to the delight of his Aunt and Uncle and seemed to have a bright future ahead of him.
However, that's when his life took a most unexpected turn. During one summer, he took part in a field trip set up by a club he use to be part of that were planting trees in an area that had recently been decimated by a wildfire. During the program, Jaden caught sight of a bear cub that had slipped into the water and was now heading down the stream towards a waterfall. Without thinking, he risked his life to save the cub and return it to its family. Despite not thinking much of it, someone else took notice of his act...
That night, he was visited by a voice in his dreams. The voice introduced itself as Gaia, Spirit Of The Earth. It had watched the man's act and, despite its usual indifference towards humans, had been intrigued by his selfless act despite the fact he had risked his life and got no reward out of it. He explained that he didn't do it for a reward but because it was the right thing to do and that he didn't want anyone else to endure the pain of lost loved ones.
Growing ever more intrigued with him, the spirit handed him what she called the "Seed Of Gaia" and that she would give him the chance to prove to her that humans and the Earth could co-exist together. With that, the dream ended...Jaden thought no more of it.
One night though, he was in his room, doing some reading when he heard a commotion downstairs. Going to check, he saw several men in black suits ransacking the place while holding his Aunt and Uncle at knife point.
For a brief moment, he felt like a small boy all over again, like history was about to repeat itself...but not if he had anything to say about it. When the men saw him, they shot the young man on the spot...only for his wound to heal up within seconds, causing all those present to freeze in shock. Anger fueling his actions, Jaden's power activated and vines broke through the windows and floorboards, disarming the men and slamming their bodies against the walls over and over again with enough force to shatter the plaster.
However, just when it looked like he was ready to do the unthinkable and take their lives...his Aunt and Uncle's voices brought him back to reality. He collapsed to his knees, sobbing and wondering what he had become. His folks consoled him as the would-be murderers were taken into custody, likely traumatized for life by the ordeal. The police asked questions but nobody was in the mood to give the actual story.
After having some time to calm down, and being reminded that his Aunt and Uncle still loved him, it was decided that he needed to learn control since the world was likely not ready for an individual like Jaden. As such, the next week or so saw him practicing with his new abilities and growing quite adept at them. His body underwent more changes until he instinctively created a new identity for himself to go with his new form.
It was around this point that an event happened that awoke his inner hero and made him realize that his powers were meant for bigger things. A powerful Fae had come to his town by the name of Glastig and, true to the myths surrounding her, went about luring in unsuspecting men and draining them of their blood, leaving lifeless corpses in her wake, meant to gather strength as her followers constructed the pieces for a gate that would open a way to the Fae Realm and allow her army to come through.
After several close calls, and having his family's lives endangered, Evergreen cornered and exposed Glastig, in the process destroying the gate and closing one of the links to the Fae Realm for good. One lengthy battle later, Glastig was defeated. Evergreen refused to kill her...but that didn't mean he or Gaia let her off the hook either.
In an event that still haunts him, Gaia, manifesting physically, transformed Glastig into a plant entity...and then Evergreen transformed the fallen Fae into a tree for the rest of her days. Victory was his...but at the price of never again reclaiming a normal life.
For a time, things went well. Jaden kept his identity a secret. He used his powers to secretly bring life and prosperity to neighboring farms and communities, sometimes travelling further to places that needed him. Of course, he always felt like there was more he needed to do...
Gaia heard his wish and informed him of more places with potential gates, namely a place called Lost Haven that was emitting huge amounts of magical energy. So, with his family's blessings and using a cover of a Herbs and Medicine shop, Jaden left his town behind and headed off to Maine...
What changes to the world will he bring as Gaia's Champion? Only time will tell...
Hero Type (Select one): Elemental
Power Level (Select one below): World Level (Potential for Cosmic Level depending on development)
Powers (Be Specific):
Plant Manipulation: The power to control any and all plants and forms of flora within an area. The uses for this power are vast and varied, giving it immense versatility and almost unrivaled destructive power if misused. His abilities are broken down into Passive and Active:
Passive:
Plant Physiology: Has an entire body made of plant matter and as such is unbound by physical limitations that humans face. He is capable of, even without enhancing himself, throwing punches and kicks that would break every bone in a person's limb, can run as fast as humanly possible indefinitely, and being a plant means he regenerates from wounds at a an amazing rate. He is capable of even going without food, drink or sleep for extensive periods.
High Resistance To Mental Attacks: Another benefit of his form is that his brain matter is distributed through his entire biomass, meaning attacks that try to effect his mind face a massive amount of resistance. He can still be hurt by said attacks or have his thoughts swayed but it requires the attacker to be of a high skill level and with considerable psychic power to boot to have even a slim chance of succeeding. Otherwise, the most these attacks will do is irritate Evergreen.
Enhanced Strength: Is physically superior to the standard human as his transformation has left him without bones to break, meaning he can pull off the kinds of near-superhuman feats that would require immense adrenaline and a high pain tolerance to pull off, such as lifting cars off of people or punching through concrete with one's bare hands.
Healing Factor: Evergreen's entire genetic makeup has been rewritten, and as such, they have been granted remarkably potent regenerative capabilities. They are capable of reattaching severed limbs and surviving having a hole blasted through their heads. They heal so fast that gunfire is practically useless against them unless it's of a special composition.
They are even capable of coming back from being blown to pieces though it should be noted this takes quite a while and uses up enough energy that they'll need to rest and replenish before they can join the fight again.
Enhanced Mobility: Evergreen has no bones or organs meaning they can move and react much faster than average humans, being able to keep pace with a speeding car or scale the sides of buildings by running up the side. They can also jump, flip, grapple, climb, and slide with remarkable ease, pulling off the kinds of acrobatic feats that even an experienced parkourist would have significant trouble with.
Enhanced Endurance: Having no real bones or organs to worry about means Evergreen can continue to function even under the weight of incredibly strenuous activity for hours longer than an average human. If they have access to some water or even sunlight, they can operate almost indefinitely unless something interferes. They can continue to operate even after having limbs removed.
Enhanced Durability: Evergreen has also been shown to shrug off injuries that would often leave the normal human either as a pile of broken bones or at death's door. He can take a fall from multiple stories and land without a scratch and withstand a large concrete block to the chest while leaving only a small indent as proof of the impact, along with a punch from an augmented human or even a supernatural creature will do little more than stagger him.
Pain Suppression: A side effect of his heightened durability and self-healing, Evergreen has shown little to no signs of reaction to the injuries he has sustained, including being stabbed and shot in the chest several times or even having part of his head blasted off. Even when he takes damage, it doesn't seem to do much more than annoy him.
Plant Sonar: Due to their connection to nature and the Life element, Evergreen seems to have their senses tuned to being able to automatically detect where plants are within a general area, and they will automatically follow his command. The sonar is powerful enough to extend to within the lengths of a city block and can even trace plants that are buried beneath concrete and steel.
Immortality: A rather vague term but it is believed that, since there are plants known to have lived far beyond the natural lifespan of humans, that Evergreen shares this feature and, as long as they keep themselves properly sustained, they will not suffer from the affects of aging and decay and
will remain as they are. This, coupled with their ability to shrug off most forms of damage, means they're perhaps as close to being immortal as one can get.
Active
Transformation: An extremely versatile ability. Evergreen has the ability to morph their body into all sorts of shapes and configurations, giving them an incredibly flexible fighting style and being able to adapt on the fly. He has honed this ability enough that he can modify said configurations
on the fly or use more than one at a time. A list of what he can do includes, but is not limited to:
Claws: Sharp enough to shred through solid steel
Blade: Shares the same sharpness level of Claws and packs more power but is harder to wield as a result.
Hammer: Incredibly destructive but rather slow and grants a limited attack range.
Drill: Can be used for tunneling and has just as much power as Blade while being more precise, but can be taken out by flanking.
Whip: Can be used for dealing with large crowds of foes and can be combined with other abilities to greatly increase their attack range. However, its maximum effectiveness requires a price of less mobility.
They can also change their entire form into various creatures to help them in battle. One tactic they use is transforming into a swarm of insects to bypass a normally lethal attack and then counter with a barrage of bites in the shape of a storm before reforming. That said, some transformations
require him to split his consciousness between multiple hosts and as such, the sensory overload means he can only use them for a very short period before returning to his normal shape.
Flight: A side effect of his transformation power. Evergreen has learned to sprout functional wings which they can use to achieve a maximum flight speed of 100 Km/h. They can also transform into a cloud of leaves and use the air currents to achieve the same result.
Golem Creation: Evergreen has complete control over all forms of plant life and can thus morph them into various constructs like wolves, swarms of flying insects, serpents, turrets, and so on. Although said golems are not indestructible, they have enough durability and strength to weather several
rounds of gunfire and an explosive or two before showing signs of breaking apart. A good comparison is a living suit of armor.
These golems also share a portion of Evergreen's Healing Factor, although it is much weaker than his and without access to water or sunlight, they will remain splintered apart and eventually decay. That said, Evergreen can use the remnants of destroyed golems to reinforce and strengthen those still standing.
Size Alteration: A side effect of his power over his own density. Evergreen can alter his own size to varying degrees, building up increasing bulk and strength as he does so. He achieves this by shedding plant matter and then controlling the remnants like one would a remote. He can use this to squeeze into places
he couldn't normally go. He can also achieve the opposite by gathering plant matter and growing larger.
It is believed that he can turn into a giant capable of smashing buildings and perhaps go even larger. It should be noted though he would only ever go this far if faced with City-Level threats or higher.
However, the side effects include the time necessary to gather plant matter, and the fact the larger he goes, the more his mobility suffers.
Evergreen also has total control over their own density, allowing them to pull off feats such as:
Nigh-Invulnerability: One of the uses for his Density Control is being able to reinforce the durability of his body and/or limbs to the point that he becomes almost indestructible. No form of blunt force trauma can get through his exterior in this state unless it comes from someone who is top-tier in terms of physical
strength and most types of bladed weapons will break on contact. It would take a constant pounding from energy-based weaponry to have any sort of actual effect.
He also takes advantage of the heightened density to release far more devastating physical strikes and to serve as a shield for his comrades.
Water Walking: Evergreen can also lighten his density to be able to to walk or even run across water without worry of sinking.
Color Change: A rather surprising use for his powers but is still valuable. Evergreen can alter his color scheme, or that of his creations, to anything he desires. He can use this to either disorient his enemies, blend himself and his creations into the surroundings for stealth purposes, and a number of other things.
Sonar Creation/Super Hearing: Can take advantage of his connection to plant life in order to listen in on distant conversations or track the movement of an enemy. As a result, he is capable of continuing a fight and countering attacks even without relying on his eyesight.
Cyclone Creation: Another unorthodox technique, Evergreen has shown some control over wind in being able to transform either his limbs or his creations into giant wind turbines that he can then use to generate powerful cyclones. These cyclones have been shown to be strong enough to knock people off their feet, toss trucks and even pin down a powerful metahuman like Tristan for an extended period of time.
The following ability is one of his most dangerous and he tends to reserve only for the worst kinds of people.
Poison Attacks: Since there are many types of plants that emit poison, Evergreen also has this capability in that with but a single touch he can apply a poison that can infect his target and cause them great pain over an extensive period, even leading to death if not treated with an antidote. However, what keeps this ability from being unstoppable is the need to not only physically touch the target, but that it tends to work only on living creatures whom have exposed skin.
Plant Physiology: Has an entire body made of plant matter and as such is unbound by physical limitations that humans face. He is capable of, even without enhancing himself, throwing punches and kicks that would break every bone in a person's limb, can run as fast as humanly possible indefinitely, and being a plant means he regenerates from wounds at a an amazing rate. He is capable of even going without food, drink or sleep for extensive periods.
High Resistance To Mental Attacks: Another benefit of his form is that his brain matter is distributed through his entire biomass, meaning attacks that try to effect his mind face a massive amount of resistance. He can still be hurt by said attacks or have his thoughts swayed but it requires the attacker to be of a high skill level and with considerable psychic power to boot to have even a slim chance of succeeding. Otherwise, the most these attacks will do is irritate Evergreen.
Enhanced Strength: Is physically superior to the standard human as his transformation has left him without bones to break, meaning he can pull off the kinds of near-superhuman feats that would require immense adrenaline and a high pain tolerance to pull off, such as lifting cars off of people or punching through concrete with one's bare hands.
Healing Factor: Evergreen's entire genetic makeup has been rewritten, and as such, they have been granted remarkably potent regenerative capabilities. They are capable of reattaching severed limbs and surviving having a hole blasted through their heads. They heal so fast that gunfire is practically useless against them unless it's of a special composition.
They are even capable of coming back from being blown to pieces though it should be noted this takes quite a while and uses up enough energy that they'll need to rest and replenish before they can join the fight again.
Enhanced Mobility: Evergreen has no bones or organs meaning they can move and react much faster than average humans, being able to keep pace with a speeding car or scale the sides of buildings by running up the side. They can also jump, flip, grapple, climb, and slide with remarkable ease, pulling off the kinds of acrobatic feats that even an experienced parkourist would have significant trouble with.
Enhanced Endurance: Having no real bones or organs to worry about means Evergreen can continue to function even under the weight of incredibly strenuous activity for hours longer than an average human. If they have access to some water or even sunlight, they can operate almost indefinitely unless something interferes. They can continue to operate even after having limbs removed.
Enhanced Durability: Evergreen has also been shown to shrug off injuries that would often leave the normal human either as a pile of broken bones or at death's door. He can take a fall from multiple stories and land without a scratch and withstand a large concrete block to the chest while leaving only a small indent as proof of the impact, along with a punch from an augmented human or even a supernatural creature will do little more than stagger him.
Pain Suppression: A side effect of his heightened durability and self-healing, Evergreen has shown little to no signs of reaction to the injuries he has sustained, including being stabbed and shot in the chest several times or even having part of his head blasted off. Even when he takes damage, it doesn't seem to do much more than annoy him.
Plant Sonar: Due to their connection to nature and the Life element, Evergreen seems to have their senses tuned to being able to automatically detect where plants are within a general area, and they will automatically follow his command. The sonar is powerful enough to extend to within the lengths of a city block and can even trace plants that are buried beneath concrete and steel.
Immortality: A rather vague term but it is believed that, since there are plants known to have lived far beyond the natural lifespan of humans, that Evergreen shares this feature and, as long as they keep themselves properly sustained, they will not suffer from the affects of aging and decay and
will remain as they are. This, coupled with their ability to shrug off most forms of damage, means they're perhaps as close to being immortal as one can get.
Active
Transformation: An extremely versatile ability. Evergreen has the ability to morph their body into all sorts of shapes and configurations, giving them an incredibly flexible fighting style and being able to adapt on the fly. He has honed this ability enough that he can modify said configurations
on the fly or use more than one at a time. A list of what he can do includes, but is not limited to:
Claws: Sharp enough to shred through solid steel
Blade: Shares the same sharpness level of Claws and packs more power but is harder to wield as a result.
Hammer: Incredibly destructive but rather slow and grants a limited attack range.
Drill: Can be used for tunneling and has just as much power as Blade while being more precise, but can be taken out by flanking.
Whip: Can be used for dealing with large crowds of foes and can be combined with other abilities to greatly increase their attack range. However, its maximum effectiveness requires a price of less mobility.
They can also change their entire form into various creatures to help them in battle. One tactic they use is transforming into a swarm of insects to bypass a normally lethal attack and then counter with a barrage of bites in the shape of a storm before reforming. That said, some transformations
require him to split his consciousness between multiple hosts and as such, the sensory overload means he can only use them for a very short period before returning to his normal shape.
Flight: A side effect of his transformation power. Evergreen has learned to sprout functional wings which they can use to achieve a maximum flight speed of 100 Km/h. They can also transform into a cloud of leaves and use the air currents to achieve the same result.
Golem Creation: Evergreen has complete control over all forms of plant life and can thus morph them into various constructs like wolves, swarms of flying insects, serpents, turrets, and so on. Although said golems are not indestructible, they have enough durability and strength to weather several
rounds of gunfire and an explosive or two before showing signs of breaking apart. A good comparison is a living suit of armor.
These golems also share a portion of Evergreen's Healing Factor, although it is much weaker than his and without access to water or sunlight, they will remain splintered apart and eventually decay. That said, Evergreen can use the remnants of destroyed golems to reinforce and strengthen those still standing.
Size Alteration: A side effect of his power over his own density. Evergreen can alter his own size to varying degrees, building up increasing bulk and strength as he does so. He achieves this by shedding plant matter and then controlling the remnants like one would a remote. He can use this to squeeze into places
he couldn't normally go. He can also achieve the opposite by gathering plant matter and growing larger.
It is believed that he can turn into a giant capable of smashing buildings and perhaps go even larger. It should be noted though he would only ever go this far if faced with City-Level threats or higher.
However, the side effects include the time necessary to gather plant matter, and the fact the larger he goes, the more his mobility suffers.
Evergreen also has total control over their own density, allowing them to pull off feats such as:
Nigh-Invulnerability: One of the uses for his Density Control is being able to reinforce the durability of his body and/or limbs to the point that he becomes almost indestructible. No form of blunt force trauma can get through his exterior in this state unless it comes from someone who is top-tier in terms of physical
strength and most types of bladed weapons will break on contact. It would take a constant pounding from energy-based weaponry to have any sort of actual effect.
He also takes advantage of the heightened density to release far more devastating physical strikes and to serve as a shield for his comrades.
Water Walking: Evergreen can also lighten his density to be able to to walk or even run across water without worry of sinking.
Color Change: A rather surprising use for his powers but is still valuable. Evergreen can alter his color scheme, or that of his creations, to anything he desires. He can use this to either disorient his enemies, blend himself and his creations into the surroundings for stealth purposes, and a number of other things.
Sonar Creation/Super Hearing: Can take advantage of his connection to plant life in order to listen in on distant conversations or track the movement of an enemy. As a result, he is capable of continuing a fight and countering attacks even without relying on his eyesight.
Cyclone Creation: Another unorthodox technique, Evergreen has shown some control over wind in being able to transform either his limbs or his creations into giant wind turbines that he can then use to generate powerful cyclones. These cyclones have been shown to be strong enough to knock people off their feet, toss trucks and even pin down a powerful metahuman like Tristan for an extended period of time.
The following ability is one of his most dangerous and he tends to reserve only for the worst kinds of people.
Poison Attacks: Since there are many types of plants that emit poison, Evergreen also has this capability in that with but a single touch he can apply a poison that can infect his target and cause them great pain over an extensive period, even leading to death if not treated with an antidote. However, what keeps this ability from being unstoppable is the need to not only physically touch the target, but that it tends to work only on living creatures whom have exposed skin.
Attributes (Select one at each category):
Strength Level: 10 Tons (When using constructs, can go up to 100 tons)
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 80 MPH
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 4 Hours.
Intelligence: Above Average
Fighting Skill: Trained
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 80 MPH
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 4 Hours.
Intelligence: Above Average
Fighting Skill: Trained
Resources: Average
Weaknesses: Despite the enormous power and potential at his disposal, Jaden has a number of weaknesses, mainly related to his new physiology.
Element-based Weaknesses: Extreme Heat, Extreme Cold, and Lightning-based attacks are all quite effective against Evergreen, to the point they can even inhibit his Healing as long as he remains too close to the source of the attack. They are also much better at destroying his constructs than simple slashing or shooting. Even being in the general vicinity can make Evergreen quite uncomfortable. Lightning is particularly bad as it tends to leave him paralyzed for a short while afterwards.
Some of his abilities are only effective on creatures that are alive and have exposed skin. If Evergreen were to, say, use Poison on a machine, it would be useless since it is not an organic creature.
Supernatural creatures seem to have an innate resistance against things like poison and could likely expel it if left alone long enough though still be left very uncomfortable.
Sun and Water Dependence: Although Evergreen is powerful, much of his strength derives from his link to the natural world, namely the Sun and Water. Although he can operate for an extensive
period without them, he still needs to keep hydrated and so, being kept out of the light or away from water for a long enough period will start to slowly strip him of his strength and will to fight. His
constructs become easier to break and he heals only half as fast as he normally does.
Morality: Evergreen, being an extremely moral individual, does not enjoy using the more dangerous aspects of his power, even if they would make jobs easier, mostly due to risk of turning
into the very thing he wishes to stop and the chance of massive collateral damage. As such, fighting him in a populated area means he is more likely to hold back than he normally does.
Supporting Characters: Adrian Maxwell: Jaden's Uncle. Runs a store tailored to the maintaining of anything garden-related. A
rather tall, well-built man who at first seems rather imposing but actually has a big heart and values his loved ones and his work.
Laura Maxwell: Jaden's Aunt. A kind, sweet woman but at the same time not somebody you want to cross and more than willing to put her foot down if she feels something is going too far. She was even the one who taught Jaden to fight for what he believes in. Despite the changes happening, she and her husband trust Jaden to do what is right and make a difference.
Gaia: The spirit of the Earth itself and the one responsible for giving Jaden his powers and mission. She watches over and protects all life but in recent decades her power has started to wane due to pollution and humanity's wasteful ways and as a result she has begun to lose her faith in them and distance herself from them and their affairs. Despite this, she is willing to give Jaden a chance to prove her wrong.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:
What do YOU think? XD
Sample Post:
My name is Jaden Maxwell. I wish I could say I'm writing this down for archival purposes...but I'm not. To be honest, I'm writing this more for myself and to hold on to some shred of my sanity after all that craziness that has happened in my life over the past couple of weeks. I don't know if anybody aside from me is going to ever read this but my Aunt says this might be theraputic so I'm not gonna argue with her. Trust me, arguing with her on anything is a bad idea.
Now, there's a lot to cover so I'll try to summarize as best I can. It all started one summer about a year after I had finished high school and had been laid off from my job working at the grocery store. I didn't blame my boss though and it wasn't any fault on my part either. It was just...well, the economy was pretty lousy at this point and so the store I worked at needed to "cut corners" if you will, and guess who was among said corners?
Anyways, I needed something to occupy me over the summer so I decided to contact one of the clubs I used to work with and found out they were going on a week-long trip out near where a wildfire had recently destroyed a sizable chunk of the local habitats. We would plant some trees, gather some notes, and then create a presentation that would hopefully better educate people on the dangers of leaving fires unattended.
Now, before you go accusing me of being a hippie, I'm not. In all honesty, I enjoyed a good steak or piece of fried chicken as much as the next person. I mostly went cause it meant I got to hang out with some old classmates and cause I was bored as all get out. So yeah, I went on the trip and it was pretty standard stuff as you might imagine, and I thought it would stay the way...
It would've too...if I hadn't chosen to make one fateful decision...
We were just beginning to pack up for the night when suddenly, I heard a loud yelping. I blinked and looked up from the bag I was packing, "You guys hear that?" The others shook their heads and I decided to just shrug it off and continue packing...only to hear said yelping once again, only louder this time, and closer, "Ok, I know I'm not imagining things now!"
"Oh no, look!" One of my friends, Jennifer, called out while pointing to the river. I took a closer look and...there was a bear cub yelping as it tried to frantically paddle through the water, but the current was strong...too strong, it seemed. On the other side of the shore, I could see two larger bears, likely the mom and dad, roaring and trying to follow along.
For a brief moment...I felt like that small boy from so long ago...the one who could do nothing as the world took away two of the people I loved. I couldn't let this happen, so without thinking, I hauled off my coat and started making my way down to where some rocks were. Despite the protests of the others, I managed to hop over to one of them, nearly slipping into the water as I did so. The bear cub sniffling as I used my coat to catch the poor animal and keep it warm as I headed back to shore. I dropped the cub off and let it return to its family, safe and sound.
Needless to say, I got quite an earful from the others when I got back on what a stupid, irresponsible thing I'd done. Did I listen? Of course I did...but I didn't regret it either, as at least now this meant one less family would be split up. I went to sleep that night feeling pretty good about myself...that's when SHE appeared though.
She came in my dreams. A female voice that spoke to me, "Greetings, Child Of Man...I am Gaia, Mother of the Earth."
"Umm...hello there?" I said in return. Hey, if someone greets you, it's only fair you do the same in return.
For a moment, I swore I heard a faint giggling, "Your confusion is most understandable. After all, it is not everyday that I choose to make contact with one of your kind..." I then thought I heard her sighing, "In all honesty, it is difficult for me to even remember the last time I was even capable of doing so..."
"I'm...sorry?" Ok, in all honesty I was getting more confused by the minute.
"Do not worry yourself over minor details," I got the impression of someone giving a dismissive wave, "I speak to you now because I wish to thank you for saving one of my children...and to also ask you why."
I found myself tilting my head, "Why?"
The impression of a nod reached my mind, "Yes. I have watched your kind for a long time and I see them growing increasingly concerned only with their own needs and wants. They destroy everything I create in the name of progress and wage their wars over what they think belongs to them and them alone. I have endured this for such a long time that my power is beginning to fade...and that brings me to my question. You risked your life even knowing you got nothing out of it to save one who is not of your own kind...Why is that?"
I winced and felt myself lowering my gaze, "...Well..It wasn't for anything fancy...I just...I thought it was the right thing to do...because I know how it feels to lose someone you love. If I see somebody in front of me suffering and I have the ability to do something about it but choose not to...well, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself."
"Hmm...you do realize that even if you save one family from being split apart, that does not mean you can save all of them, correct?" It wasn't accusatory. She was just asking.
"I'm not stupid, Miss Gaia. I know I can't solve everything on my own..." I shook my head, "But that doesn't mean I should just stand by and do nothing either....even if it seems hopeless...you have to try, no matter what."
"Hmm...." For the longest time, the voice went quiet, as if pondering something. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it spoke again, "I see...you intrigue me, Child Of Man...and as such, I will charge you with the task of being my emissary among the humans..." With that, a bright green light appeared before me, "Take this...the Seed Of Gaia...use its power and prove to me that both humans and the Earth can co-exist together some day."
"Huh? What are you-" Before I had a chance to finish, the light went into my chest, causing me to wince, "H-Hey!!"
The dream started to warp, "Our time together is almost up...the rest is up to you, my champion..." With that, the dream faded...
I awoke from my sleep and for the next couple days, nothing happened, and before long, I had, for the most part, put the experience behind me...at least until I returned home. The moment I went into my Aunt and Uncle's garden, something just felt...off. You know that feeling you get when you're on stage during a concert or a show and you got everyone's eyes on you? Well, that's kind of what I was feeling...only it was happening while I was walking among the flora in the garden. Yeah, it was a pretty creepy feeling, to the extent I imagined that plant monster from Little Shop Of Horrors was gonna appear and try to eat me.
Shuddering, I turned and headed in doors...but not before I caught, for a split second, one of the plants slightly turning, as if watching my every move. Trying to keep my head on straight, I went to my room and dug out one of my old Superman comics and relaxed on my bed for a bit.
Just as I was fishing around in a bag of potato chips though, I heard a loud smash downstairs. Curiosity getting the better of me, I crept down the stairs and peeked into the living room...only to see a sight that made my blood turn cold. Several men were surrounding my Aunt and Uncle, the latter of whom was lying against the wall with a bloody noise and one of the men was restraining my Aunt despite her putting up a fight.
"Alright, that's enough!" One of the burlier guys cried as he pulled out a gun, "Don't make this any harder than it has to be! Just give us what we want already!"
Seeing the phone lying on the table not far from me, I cautiously crept towards it...only to suddenly feel someone grab me from behind, "Hey boss! Look who we got here!" I found myself dragged out into the living room and upon seeing me, my Aunt's face went as white as snow, "It appears we had a rat ready to tattle on us!"
"Oh? We can't have that now, can we?" The supposed leader of the group remarked as he turned his gun on me.
"W-Wait!" My Uncle groaned as he wiped the blood from his nose, "I'll give you whatever you want...just don't hurt my family..."
The man chuckled, "Good man. That wasn't so hard, see? Come along now...you guys bring the old hag and the other guy." We found ourselves being dragged towards the fireplace where an old portrait lied on the wall. My Uncle removed said portrait to reveal a small safe set in the wall. With a gun at his back, my Uncle input the combination and opened it up before being roughly shoved aside as the man grabbed all the money inside.
"...Aunt Laura.." I whispered in her direction, "...How long have you had that much money...?"
My Aunt was quiet for a second, looking away as if ashamed of herself for some reason, "...I'm sorry, Jaden...we wanted to tell you sooner...but we were saving that money up so you could go to a good college..."
For a moment, my heart seemed to stop beating. They...they had always been thinking about me, and now we were all gonna die...why was this world so unfair? First, my Mom and Dad were taken from me and now this? No...No, I wouldn't accept this! I would never accept a world built on such cruelty!
You don't have to...
I looked up. Did I just imagine a voice in my head? "Keep your head to the floor!" I yelped in pain as I found myself smacked upside the head and knocked to the floor.
"There!" My Uncle finally found the courage to speak up, "You got what you want, now please leave my family alone! We won't call the police either!"
"I have no doubt you won't..." The leader remarked with a nod before glaring over at me, "But I'm not so sure of the little snitch over there...in fact, I think we should make an example of him...pick him up, boys!" My relatives screamed in protest but were unable to do anything as I was picked up and restrained. I tried to fight only to get punched hard in the chest several times. Was this really how it was all gonna end for me?
The leader of the men raised his gun...and I heard a loud gunshot...as a bright red spot formed on my chest. Complete silence reigned over everything as it seemed like the world had come to a stop. I should've felt everything going black...I should've slumped over and accepted the inevitable...but for some reason, I refused.
No...I'm not dying...not here... I forced myself to stand and as I did, the guys holding me backed off, looking as pale as ghosts. One look down revealed that the hole in my chest was rapidly closing up. "B-Boss! What's going on?!!"
"I-I...kill him! Kill that freak!" The boss and two of his men fired upon me. I noticed nearly a dozen holes open up on me...and yet I felt hardly anything. I walked forward as the wounds closed up even faster this time. I didn't care what happened to me. I just wanted these monsters, these pathetic excuses for human beings to pay for their crimes. I took off at the leader and slammed into him with enough force to knock him against the wall and hold him up with one hand.
"Boss!" Two of his men, briefly regaining whatever courage they had, went on the attack, trying to pry me off him but I simply threw them aside with as much effort as swatting a fly. I casually tossed the boss over my shoulder and he crashed into the wall hard enough to shatter some of the plaster. "You demon!" One of the men got in the way and managed to stab me in the chest with a knife...like the guns, it did jack squat and I sent him flying with a swipe of my arm.
I advanced on the boss once more who looked ready to wet himself as he backed up against the wall, scared so much I swore he might have a heart attack on me. "I...oh man...dude...it...easy there...it was all a joke, ok? I'm sorry...listen, you can have the money back and hey, I'll give you even more money! I...I'll turn over a new leaf, I promise!"
Before I could reply, the goons all jumped me at the same time...but I could take no more. The rage boiled over and the floorboards exploded as giant vines and roots shot out and pinned all of my foes to the walls. It would've been so easy to just snap all their necks right now and end their scourge upon the world...
"Jaden! Please stop!" But a familiar pair of voices brought me back to reality. I turned to see my folks standing there, huddled together, yet still staring me down, "...Please...this isn't you..." My Uncle remarked, trembling, "You're not a killer....you're better than that, and you know it.." He held his wife close, "Come back to us...please..."
The words I heard managed to give me clarity. I let the men fall to the ground as the vines retreated back underground. The power faded...but it didn't disappear. I found myself collapsing to my knees and looking at my trembling hands, unable to comprehend what I'd just done, "I...I...oh god no...I...what on earth am I...?" I was too hysterical to even think straight, and the rest of the night passed in a blur. The police came and took away the would-be murderers into custody. I stayed in my room with my Aunt who did her best to console me.
I explained to my Aunt and Uncle what had happened and what we were going to do from here. It was quickly agreed upon I needed to learn control as if I blew up in a public place and couldn't keep my new powers on a leash...yeah, it was NOT gonna go over well. So yeah, the next couple weeks passed and with each day I found myself gaining greater control and discovering new aspects of my power....which both excited yet scared me. Plants grew when I wanted them to, or I could cause them to revert back to seeds. I could change the properties of fruit and veggies, trees bent to my will, and so on. Of course, as I had found out that first night it was very VERY difficult to deal any sort of lasting harm to me...as long as it wasn't fire but I accidentally learned I could amplify my healing with some water.
My powers grew by leaps and bounds, and even my own body was changing, becoming closer to a plant than a human. I found this out when I accidentally made flowers bloom out of my own arm. Needless to say, I felt like a mix between Green Lantern and Plastic Man...which is exactly as terrifying as it sounded.
Before long, I was putting my powers to work, revitalizing dead crops and bringing life wherever I could. It was small steps but it was something at least.
Lately though, I been hearing reports about...well, people showing up dead with all the blood drained from them, leaving nothing but husks. I'm not gonna lie, I'm likely to have nightmares about that for quite a while. Something about this isn't right, and I intend to get to the bottom of it any way I can. First thing tomorrow, I got some investigating to do.
To those of you who somehow found this, thanks for listening. This is Jaden Maxwell, alias Evergreen, signing off for now.
Now, there's a lot to cover so I'll try to summarize as best I can. It all started one summer about a year after I had finished high school and had been laid off from my job working at the grocery store. I didn't blame my boss though and it wasn't any fault on my part either. It was just...well, the economy was pretty lousy at this point and so the store I worked at needed to "cut corners" if you will, and guess who was among said corners?
Anyways, I needed something to occupy me over the summer so I decided to contact one of the clubs I used to work with and found out they were going on a week-long trip out near where a wildfire had recently destroyed a sizable chunk of the local habitats. We would plant some trees, gather some notes, and then create a presentation that would hopefully better educate people on the dangers of leaving fires unattended.
Now, before you go accusing me of being a hippie, I'm not. In all honesty, I enjoyed a good steak or piece of fried chicken as much as the next person. I mostly went cause it meant I got to hang out with some old classmates and cause I was bored as all get out. So yeah, I went on the trip and it was pretty standard stuff as you might imagine, and I thought it would stay the way...
It would've too...if I hadn't chosen to make one fateful decision...
We were just beginning to pack up for the night when suddenly, I heard a loud yelping. I blinked and looked up from the bag I was packing, "You guys hear that?" The others shook their heads and I decided to just shrug it off and continue packing...only to hear said yelping once again, only louder this time, and closer, "Ok, I know I'm not imagining things now!"
"Oh no, look!" One of my friends, Jennifer, called out while pointing to the river. I took a closer look and...there was a bear cub yelping as it tried to frantically paddle through the water, but the current was strong...too strong, it seemed. On the other side of the shore, I could see two larger bears, likely the mom and dad, roaring and trying to follow along.
For a brief moment...I felt like that small boy from so long ago...the one who could do nothing as the world took away two of the people I loved. I couldn't let this happen, so without thinking, I hauled off my coat and started making my way down to where some rocks were. Despite the protests of the others, I managed to hop over to one of them, nearly slipping into the water as I did so. The bear cub sniffling as I used my coat to catch the poor animal and keep it warm as I headed back to shore. I dropped the cub off and let it return to its family, safe and sound.
Needless to say, I got quite an earful from the others when I got back on what a stupid, irresponsible thing I'd done. Did I listen? Of course I did...but I didn't regret it either, as at least now this meant one less family would be split up. I went to sleep that night feeling pretty good about myself...that's when SHE appeared though.
She came in my dreams. A female voice that spoke to me, "Greetings, Child Of Man...I am Gaia, Mother of the Earth."
"Umm...hello there?" I said in return. Hey, if someone greets you, it's only fair you do the same in return.
For a moment, I swore I heard a faint giggling, "Your confusion is most understandable. After all, it is not everyday that I choose to make contact with one of your kind..." I then thought I heard her sighing, "In all honesty, it is difficult for me to even remember the last time I was even capable of doing so..."
"I'm...sorry?" Ok, in all honesty I was getting more confused by the minute.
"Do not worry yourself over minor details," I got the impression of someone giving a dismissive wave, "I speak to you now because I wish to thank you for saving one of my children...and to also ask you why."
I found myself tilting my head, "Why?"
The impression of a nod reached my mind, "Yes. I have watched your kind for a long time and I see them growing increasingly concerned only with their own needs and wants. They destroy everything I create in the name of progress and wage their wars over what they think belongs to them and them alone. I have endured this for such a long time that my power is beginning to fade...and that brings me to my question. You risked your life even knowing you got nothing out of it to save one who is not of your own kind...Why is that?"
I winced and felt myself lowering my gaze, "...Well..It wasn't for anything fancy...I just...I thought it was the right thing to do...because I know how it feels to lose someone you love. If I see somebody in front of me suffering and I have the ability to do something about it but choose not to...well, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself."
"Hmm...you do realize that even if you save one family from being split apart, that does not mean you can save all of them, correct?" It wasn't accusatory. She was just asking.
"I'm not stupid, Miss Gaia. I know I can't solve everything on my own..." I shook my head, "But that doesn't mean I should just stand by and do nothing either....even if it seems hopeless...you have to try, no matter what."
"Hmm...." For the longest time, the voice went quiet, as if pondering something. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it spoke again, "I see...you intrigue me, Child Of Man...and as such, I will charge you with the task of being my emissary among the humans..." With that, a bright green light appeared before me, "Take this...the Seed Of Gaia...use its power and prove to me that both humans and the Earth can co-exist together some day."
"Huh? What are you-" Before I had a chance to finish, the light went into my chest, causing me to wince, "H-Hey!!"
The dream started to warp, "Our time together is almost up...the rest is up to you, my champion..." With that, the dream faded...
I awoke from my sleep and for the next couple days, nothing happened, and before long, I had, for the most part, put the experience behind me...at least until I returned home. The moment I went into my Aunt and Uncle's garden, something just felt...off. You know that feeling you get when you're on stage during a concert or a show and you got everyone's eyes on you? Well, that's kind of what I was feeling...only it was happening while I was walking among the flora in the garden. Yeah, it was a pretty creepy feeling, to the extent I imagined that plant monster from Little Shop Of Horrors was gonna appear and try to eat me.
Shuddering, I turned and headed in doors...but not before I caught, for a split second, one of the plants slightly turning, as if watching my every move. Trying to keep my head on straight, I went to my room and dug out one of my old Superman comics and relaxed on my bed for a bit.
Just as I was fishing around in a bag of potato chips though, I heard a loud smash downstairs. Curiosity getting the better of me, I crept down the stairs and peeked into the living room...only to see a sight that made my blood turn cold. Several men were surrounding my Aunt and Uncle, the latter of whom was lying against the wall with a bloody noise and one of the men was restraining my Aunt despite her putting up a fight.
"Alright, that's enough!" One of the burlier guys cried as he pulled out a gun, "Don't make this any harder than it has to be! Just give us what we want already!"
Seeing the phone lying on the table not far from me, I cautiously crept towards it...only to suddenly feel someone grab me from behind, "Hey boss! Look who we got here!" I found myself dragged out into the living room and upon seeing me, my Aunt's face went as white as snow, "It appears we had a rat ready to tattle on us!"
"Oh? We can't have that now, can we?" The supposed leader of the group remarked as he turned his gun on me.
"W-Wait!" My Uncle groaned as he wiped the blood from his nose, "I'll give you whatever you want...just don't hurt my family..."
The man chuckled, "Good man. That wasn't so hard, see? Come along now...you guys bring the old hag and the other guy." We found ourselves being dragged towards the fireplace where an old portrait lied on the wall. My Uncle removed said portrait to reveal a small safe set in the wall. With a gun at his back, my Uncle input the combination and opened it up before being roughly shoved aside as the man grabbed all the money inside.
"...Aunt Laura.." I whispered in her direction, "...How long have you had that much money...?"
My Aunt was quiet for a second, looking away as if ashamed of herself for some reason, "...I'm sorry, Jaden...we wanted to tell you sooner...but we were saving that money up so you could go to a good college..."
For a moment, my heart seemed to stop beating. They...they had always been thinking about me, and now we were all gonna die...why was this world so unfair? First, my Mom and Dad were taken from me and now this? No...No, I wouldn't accept this! I would never accept a world built on such cruelty!
You don't have to...
I looked up. Did I just imagine a voice in my head? "Keep your head to the floor!" I yelped in pain as I found myself smacked upside the head and knocked to the floor.
"There!" My Uncle finally found the courage to speak up, "You got what you want, now please leave my family alone! We won't call the police either!"
"I have no doubt you won't..." The leader remarked with a nod before glaring over at me, "But I'm not so sure of the little snitch over there...in fact, I think we should make an example of him...pick him up, boys!" My relatives screamed in protest but were unable to do anything as I was picked up and restrained. I tried to fight only to get punched hard in the chest several times. Was this really how it was all gonna end for me?
The leader of the men raised his gun...and I heard a loud gunshot...as a bright red spot formed on my chest. Complete silence reigned over everything as it seemed like the world had come to a stop. I should've felt everything going black...I should've slumped over and accepted the inevitable...but for some reason, I refused.
No...I'm not dying...not here... I forced myself to stand and as I did, the guys holding me backed off, looking as pale as ghosts. One look down revealed that the hole in my chest was rapidly closing up. "B-Boss! What's going on?!!"
"I-I...kill him! Kill that freak!" The boss and two of his men fired upon me. I noticed nearly a dozen holes open up on me...and yet I felt hardly anything. I walked forward as the wounds closed up even faster this time. I didn't care what happened to me. I just wanted these monsters, these pathetic excuses for human beings to pay for their crimes. I took off at the leader and slammed into him with enough force to knock him against the wall and hold him up with one hand.
"Boss!" Two of his men, briefly regaining whatever courage they had, went on the attack, trying to pry me off him but I simply threw them aside with as much effort as swatting a fly. I casually tossed the boss over my shoulder and he crashed into the wall hard enough to shatter some of the plaster. "You demon!" One of the men got in the way and managed to stab me in the chest with a knife...like the guns, it did jack squat and I sent him flying with a swipe of my arm.
I advanced on the boss once more who looked ready to wet himself as he backed up against the wall, scared so much I swore he might have a heart attack on me. "I...oh man...dude...it...easy there...it was all a joke, ok? I'm sorry...listen, you can have the money back and hey, I'll give you even more money! I...I'll turn over a new leaf, I promise!"
Before I could reply, the goons all jumped me at the same time...but I could take no more. The rage boiled over and the floorboards exploded as giant vines and roots shot out and pinned all of my foes to the walls. It would've been so easy to just snap all their necks right now and end their scourge upon the world...
"Jaden! Please stop!" But a familiar pair of voices brought me back to reality. I turned to see my folks standing there, huddled together, yet still staring me down, "...Please...this isn't you..." My Uncle remarked, trembling, "You're not a killer....you're better than that, and you know it.." He held his wife close, "Come back to us...please..."
The words I heard managed to give me clarity. I let the men fall to the ground as the vines retreated back underground. The power faded...but it didn't disappear. I found myself collapsing to my knees and looking at my trembling hands, unable to comprehend what I'd just done, "I...I...oh god no...I...what on earth am I...?" I was too hysterical to even think straight, and the rest of the night passed in a blur. The police came and took away the would-be murderers into custody. I stayed in my room with my Aunt who did her best to console me.
I explained to my Aunt and Uncle what had happened and what we were going to do from here. It was quickly agreed upon I needed to learn control as if I blew up in a public place and couldn't keep my new powers on a leash...yeah, it was NOT gonna go over well. So yeah, the next couple weeks passed and with each day I found myself gaining greater control and discovering new aspects of my power....which both excited yet scared me. Plants grew when I wanted them to, or I could cause them to revert back to seeds. I could change the properties of fruit and veggies, trees bent to my will, and so on. Of course, as I had found out that first night it was very VERY difficult to deal any sort of lasting harm to me...as long as it wasn't fire but I accidentally learned I could amplify my healing with some water.
My powers grew by leaps and bounds, and even my own body was changing, becoming closer to a plant than a human. I found this out when I accidentally made flowers bloom out of my own arm. Needless to say, I felt like a mix between Green Lantern and Plastic Man...which is exactly as terrifying as it sounded.
Before long, I was putting my powers to work, revitalizing dead crops and bringing life wherever I could. It was small steps but it was something at least.
Lately though, I been hearing reports about...well, people showing up dead with all the blood drained from them, leaving nothing but husks. I'm not gonna lie, I'm likely to have nightmares about that for quite a while. Something about this isn't right, and I intend to get to the bottom of it any way I can. First thing tomorrow, I got some investigating to do.
To those of you who somehow found this, thanks for listening. This is Jaden Maxwell, alias Evergreen, signing off for now.
GM
nitemare shape GM of Create A Hero and Star Wars: Legacies
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GM of Create A Hero and Star Wars: Legacies
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Character you have created: Henry “Hank” Hightower
Alias:The Prophet
Speech Color (Actually say what you're using, don't go "Like this", or what not): N/A
Character Alignment:
-Villain-
Identity: Mostly Secret
Character Personality: The Prophet is a good leader. He is more than happy to lead by example, from the front lines. He is able to inspire unquestioning loyalty in his men, which in turn gives him a cult-like following amongst them. He was a life long military man, as was his father before him, and his grandfather before him, and is a strong believer in discipline. He does not suffer failure or excuses, but is not totally unreasonable. He is a man driven by two things, revenge and greed. He will do whatever it takes to reach his goals, and has no problem with collateral damage.
Uniform/costume:
In uniform:
Out of uniform:
Tattoos: The Prophet has several notable tattoos. On his right forearm “Revelations 13” appears, referencing the biblical book of revelations which describes the beast of Seven Heads and Seven Horns rise up out of the seas.
On his left arm the words Death, Deceit, and Wisdom appear in Islamic text. Each word is parallel to the next, and run from elbow to wrist.
On the palm as well as the back of each hand, the Stigmata Wounds suffered by Christ on the cross appear.
Origin Info/Details: Hank Hightower was always a little different. He was always stronger than the other kids in school, and he was always just a bit quicker. He also always seemed to heal faster from injuries. Because of these factors, he was a star on his high school football team and a bit of a local hero in the small town of Acton California. When he graduated from high school, he decided to forgo a college education and enlisted in the army. Though many in his town did not understand, they believed that he could get a top notch education if he just accepted one of the many football scholarships that he’d been offered. However, it was an easy choice for Hank. He came from a military family, and he never saw any other type of life for himself.
When he enlisted, he was subjected to a physical, which was par for the course. However, he was surprised when he was approached by Captain Thomas Carson to undergo additional tests. When he asked why he was being selected for this, he was told that everything would be revealed in due time. Hank underwent several tests, blood and tissue samples were taken. He also underwent a number of physical tests, which tested his strength and reaction times. When the tests were finished, it was revealed to Hank that he had not only passed the tests, but he was selected for a new unit that was made up of “enhanced” individuals. He was also selected to test new equipment, such as the new SBXL53 Predator power suit. The suit not only enhanced his natural abilities, but it allowed him to blend into his surroundings as well as offering him added protection from enemy fire.
Over 8 years, his unit had been on many missions around the world. They had been sent into hotspots all over the globe and conducted operations ranging from disrupting South American drug cartels to eliminating terrorist organizations in Europe, the Middle East and Asia.
It was on one such mission which sent Hightower and his unit to Chechnya to disrupt a terror cell with ambitions to detonate a dirty bomb in Times Square that Hightower and his commandos learned that the terrorists that they were sent to terminate were in fact bankrolled by the Pentagon.
After he and his men dispatched the terrorists, a second black ops team entered the fray and attacked Hightower and his men. The ambush was expertly executed, and Hightower’s unit was taken down man by man. Hightower himself barely survived the attack, having escaped by throwing himself into the Terek River and allowing its raging waters to carry him to safety.
Hightower spent the next several years on the run, moving through Europe, before finally returning to the United States under an assumed name. However, when he returned home, he found that nothing was as he had left it. While he was away, his wife had died of a rare genetic disorder, and his daughter had become a ward of the state. With no one to tie him down, he continued the work that he had begun in Europe, putting together a team of enhanced soldiers. However, this time, he and his team would not work for the US government, instead, he would form a core team of mercenaries to do the bidding of the highest bidder. The newly christened Black Tide quickly became a feared and respected paramilitary unit which earned a reputation for getting the job done. Not only did Hightower establish Black Tide as one of the world’s elite mercenary outfits, but a profitable criminal enterprise as well.
Hero Type (Select one):
Other- Brick/Muscle/Tech
Power Level (Select one below):
World
Powers (Be Specific):
Enhanced strength, enhanced reaction time, healing factor. When he is in his battle suit, his natural abilities are augmented, giving him increased strength and speed. Also, the battle suit is for the most part bullet proof, and has a cloaking ability which acts as natural camouflage, allowing him to blend into any surroundings, rendering him nearly invisible.
[indent]Attributes (Select one at each category):
Height: 6’2
Weight: 235
Resources:Extreme
Weaknesses: All the weaknesses of a normal man.
Supporting Characters: Does your character have a significant other? A mother? Friend? Who are they, what do they have to do with your character?
Jason Ulrich- Right hand man
Myra Krylov- Confidant, occasional lover
Various soldiers and mercs who will be described upon introduction
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Sample Post N/A
Alias:The Prophet
Speech Color (Actually say what you're using, don't go "Like this", or what not): N/A
Character Alignment:
-Villain-
Identity: Mostly Secret
Character Personality: The Prophet is a good leader. He is more than happy to lead by example, from the front lines. He is able to inspire unquestioning loyalty in his men, which in turn gives him a cult-like following amongst them. He was a life long military man, as was his father before him, and his grandfather before him, and is a strong believer in discipline. He does not suffer failure or excuses, but is not totally unreasonable. He is a man driven by two things, revenge and greed. He will do whatever it takes to reach his goals, and has no problem with collateral damage.
Uniform/costume:
In uniform:
Out of uniform:
Tattoos: The Prophet has several notable tattoos. On his right forearm “Revelations 13” appears, referencing the biblical book of revelations which describes the beast of Seven Heads and Seven Horns rise up out of the seas.
On his left arm the words Death, Deceit, and Wisdom appear in Islamic text. Each word is parallel to the next, and run from elbow to wrist.
On the palm as well as the back of each hand, the Stigmata Wounds suffered by Christ on the cross appear.
Origin Info/Details: Hank Hightower was always a little different. He was always stronger than the other kids in school, and he was always just a bit quicker. He also always seemed to heal faster from injuries. Because of these factors, he was a star on his high school football team and a bit of a local hero in the small town of Acton California. When he graduated from high school, he decided to forgo a college education and enlisted in the army. Though many in his town did not understand, they believed that he could get a top notch education if he just accepted one of the many football scholarships that he’d been offered. However, it was an easy choice for Hank. He came from a military family, and he never saw any other type of life for himself.
When he enlisted, he was subjected to a physical, which was par for the course. However, he was surprised when he was approached by Captain Thomas Carson to undergo additional tests. When he asked why he was being selected for this, he was told that everything would be revealed in due time. Hank underwent several tests, blood and tissue samples were taken. He also underwent a number of physical tests, which tested his strength and reaction times. When the tests were finished, it was revealed to Hank that he had not only passed the tests, but he was selected for a new unit that was made up of “enhanced” individuals. He was also selected to test new equipment, such as the new SBXL53 Predator power suit. The suit not only enhanced his natural abilities, but it allowed him to blend into his surroundings as well as offering him added protection from enemy fire.
Over 8 years, his unit had been on many missions around the world. They had been sent into hotspots all over the globe and conducted operations ranging from disrupting South American drug cartels to eliminating terrorist organizations in Europe, the Middle East and Asia.
It was on one such mission which sent Hightower and his unit to Chechnya to disrupt a terror cell with ambitions to detonate a dirty bomb in Times Square that Hightower and his commandos learned that the terrorists that they were sent to terminate were in fact bankrolled by the Pentagon.
After he and his men dispatched the terrorists, a second black ops team entered the fray and attacked Hightower and his men. The ambush was expertly executed, and Hightower’s unit was taken down man by man. Hightower himself barely survived the attack, having escaped by throwing himself into the Terek River and allowing its raging waters to carry him to safety.
Hightower spent the next several years on the run, moving through Europe, before finally returning to the United States under an assumed name. However, when he returned home, he found that nothing was as he had left it. While he was away, his wife had died of a rare genetic disorder, and his daughter had become a ward of the state. With no one to tie him down, he continued the work that he had begun in Europe, putting together a team of enhanced soldiers. However, this time, he and his team would not work for the US government, instead, he would form a core team of mercenaries to do the bidding of the highest bidder. The newly christened Black Tide quickly became a feared and respected paramilitary unit which earned a reputation for getting the job done. Not only did Hightower establish Black Tide as one of the world’s elite mercenary outfits, but a profitable criminal enterprise as well.
Hero Type (Select one):
Other- Brick/Muscle/Tech
Power Level (Select one below):
World
Powers (Be Specific):
Enhanced strength, enhanced reaction time, healing factor. When he is in his battle suit, his natural abilities are augmented, giving him increased strength and speed. Also, the battle suit is for the most part bullet proof, and has a cloaking ability which acts as natural camouflage, allowing him to blend into any surroundings, rendering him nearly invisible.
[indent]Attributes (Select one at each category):
Height: 6’2
Weight: 235
Strength Level: 10 Out of suit, 30 in suit
Speed/Reaction Timing Level:
20
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 2.5 hours
Agility: 3x Human level
Intelligence: Overall, slightly above average, however The Prophet is a tactical genius
Fighting Skill: Mastered
Speed/Reaction Timing Level:
20
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 2.5 hours
Agility: 3x Human level
Intelligence: Overall, slightly above average, however The Prophet is a tactical genius
Fighting Skill: Mastered
Resources:Extreme
Weaknesses: All the weaknesses of a normal man.
Supporting Characters: Does your character have a significant other? A mother? Friend? Who are they, what do they have to do with your character?
Jason Ulrich- Right hand man
Myra Krylov- Confidant, occasional lover
Various soldiers and mercs who will be described upon introduction
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Yup
Sample Post N/A
"Dangerous Woman" by Ariana Grande (Main Theme)
"Cyber Commando" by Power Glove (Intro Theme)
Full Name
Maya Hammond | Aurelie Butore
Callsign
Cipher
Status
Active
Speech Color
a400ea
Character Alignment
Walking the Line (Hero-leaning)
Identity
Secret
Uniform
She normally wears street clothes that suit her environment, but when push comes to shove and she's on raid duty, she simply just dons a tactical vest to carry ammunition for her weapons, some protective gear and goes to work. Said tactical gear looks somewhat like this, sans helmet
Character Personality
Maya is a woman who's a bit of a casual individual, thanks to her cybernetics. She has a great relationship with anyone she works with, and she tries to maintain that whenever she could. However, while she may do evil deeds, she doesn't have evil intentions. She's simply trying to pay off "debts" incurred to her from the cybernetic program she was in, so if she ever tells someone that it's Not Personal, she means it. She's normally calm under pressure, and tries to make an effort of keeping innocents out of the game whenever she's doing her work. However, while she may be an operative of a shady organization, she has a strong distaste for those who target innocent people, as well as those who are unnecessarily cruel.
Origin Info / Details
Aurélie was born into a very destitute and poor family in [REDACTED], and had grown up most of her life scavenging across the lands with her parents, living life from the crumbs on the floor. She lived her life this way, doing basic farmhand and maid work until she turned 21. However, soon after Aurélie turned 21, she came across a job offer to work for Papa Sierra as an operative, and it was an offer she couldn't refuse. After being hired and passing through several screening tests, she went through a grueling training process and passed with flying colors. In exchange for a much larger pay check over a longer period of time (with debt incurred in the first few years), she agreed to go through with the Cybernetic Program for Papa Sierra. Aurélie soon found herself going through a whole lot of pain and a whole lot of trouble, going through 6 months of implants, surgeries, tests and other measures. Within those 6 months, she was transformed into a Cyber Commando, effectively a perfect blend of man and machine. 6 more months of tests and recovery proved to Papa Sierra that Aurélie was a perfect candidate for the Papa Sierra Strike Team. Having signed the contract to pay off the initial debts with her earnings, Aurelie became the subcommander of Galm Team, and was given the war name of "Maya Hammond", complete with new background information and citizen papers from her home country of Papa Sierra. With these, as well as a valid passport and other paperwork, she was able to travel around the world freely and embed herself wherever Papa Sierra desired her to be. When doing tactical work, however, she's often leading Galm Team, and a small strike force to complete objectives.
Hero Type
Cyborg (Other)
Power Level
City Level
Powers
Active Powers
Cyber Intelligence
Maya is a cyborg, no question about it. With most of her body consisting of artificial superblood, with her bones replaced with titanium alloy, she possesses many latent abilities. However, one ability she actively has to use is her Cyber Intelligence, which is essentially a mind-computer interface that allows her to gather intelligence much quicker than a normal human with any other tool. Her Gen 2 Cyber-Eye (pictured) allows her to see incredibly far distances, as well as act as a targeting computer for any weapon she uses. It also can scan enemies and relay information to any internet port she desires. Thanks to her mind being implanted with a CyberChip that allows her to control her robotic limbs and connect her brain to her cyber-eye, she also possesses an AI that assists her on her tasks and helps keep track of things that her very capable but limited human mind can't. This AI goes by the name of Eagle Eye, which is one of many AIs safely housed in one of Papa Sierra facilities in [REDACTED].
Passive Powers
Super Strength
Due to her bones and muscles being mostly synthetic and far more durable and strong than that of a normal human's, her cybernetic enhancements allow her to lift and carry far more than a human should. The maximum she could do, however, is flip over a light APC or a semi truck, but she can also use her weight and strength to slowly pull tanks as well. Taking her on hand-to-hand with her would be paramount to suicide for anyone without the proper ability to even the odds.
Super Speed
Her cybernetic limbs allow her unparalleled speed in running. However, while it is often dwarfed by dedicated speedsters, she could run far faster than normal humans and can jump higher than most normal humans as well, and still not break a sweat. Her cybernetic legs allow her to run fast and for incredibly long distances. Thanks to almost all of her supporting bones being replaced by titanium alloy, she could fall from five-story buildings and take no damage.
Damage Resistance
Due to Maya being mostly Cybernetic, she can take a whole lot of punishment, whether it would be from blunt force trauma, stab wounds, explosions, fire, gunshots or just about anything else that isn't electricity. Her titanium skull allows her to resist headshots from most firearms, and she can shake off just about any kind of damage that she can take her way. However, she isn't entirely invincible, as explained in the Weaknesses section.
Steady Limbs
Her cybernetic arms allow her to aim and use any weapon with the upmost strength and the upmost accuracy. This, along with her targeting AI, allows her to be an unparalleled shot. Noise suppression technology and stealth soles allow her to be incredibly good at stealth, and with the ability to stand absolutely still at any time, with the proper camoflauge she could easily hide from lazy eyes.
Attributes
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 320 lbs.
Strength Level: 20 Tons
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 40 MPH
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 10 Hours
Agility: 2X Normal Human Level
Intelligence: Above Average (Maya), Genius (Eagle Eye)
Fighting Skill: Trained+ / Experienced
Resources: [REDACTED]
Resources
See Papa Sierra down below for standard equipment. While she carries almost all of the standard equipment, Maya comes with a variety of cybernetic enhancements that give her an edge. Not to mention that Eagle Eye can control a whole lot of Papa Sierra assets remotely without even a single strain.
Weaknesses
Her sealed cybernetics are waterproof to any pressure, but she is incredibly vulnerable to electric attacks.
Targeting her CyberChip (which resides protected in her brain) would put her in a coma, and if done well, could kill her instantly.
She possesses two very powerful batteries in her legs that are charged whenever she sleeps. While they last for long periods of time due to them being powered normal food consumption and other bodily functions, removing it would severely cripple her, and would make her unable to move. She has spares in case if that happens.
Supporting Characters
Advanced Combat Intelligence Mk.6 - "Eagle Eye"
An isolated military intelligence program developed in the United Kingdom, upgraded in [REDACTED] with a mobile mainframe currently stationed in an undisclosed Papa Sierra facility, this program speaks in a male voice and is pretty much Maya's best friend. Being neurally connected to her, and monitoring every statistic (including seeing and hearing everything she does), Eagle Eye could keep track of Maya's surroundings, and point out targets to her. This intelligence is almost Sentient to a degree, with the ability to hack just about anything that doesn't have the upmost security. Despite being only a robotic intelligence, Maya considers Eagle Eye a good friend of hers. Thanks to this isolation, Eagle Eye can act on its own without the oversight of Papa Sierra, and can act on its own will. Its intelligence and abilities far exceeded that of Papa Sierra predictions due to its isolated system, and while Eagle Eye has locked Papa Sierra out of itself so he won't be tampered with, he still acts in the interest of Maya, who is in turn currently working in the interests of Papa Sierra.
See Papa Sierra below for more supporting NPCs.
Face Claim: Yaya Decosta
"Dreamweaver" by Gary Wright (Dream Theme)
"Dreams" by Ember Waves (Nightmare Theme)
Full Name
Vicente Morales | Aquila Marcario
Callsign
Sandman
Status
Active
Speech Color
0fea00
Character Alignment
Walking the Line (Neutral)
Identity
Was Known, Trying to Keep Secret
Uniform
He normally wears a black suit with a grey tie, and from time to time he might wear Papa Sierra proprietary power-resistant ballistic vest underneath his suit. He normally doesn't dress for combat, as he's a much more intelligence oriented man who's main job is to gather information.
Character Personality
A rather serious and reserved individual, he is a relatively grounded man who doesn't like to take shit, but does anyway. Having witnessed all kinds of horrors that he had no choice but to ignore, Vicente is someone who is trying to atone for his past of working for a tyrant by doing as much good as he can, and not letting the evil get away with their crimes. Otherwise, he's a very polite individual who very much prefers to do things subtly, and tries to maintain cordial relationships with all of his allies, or any potential allies. Being in love with Morena, he loves and cherishes her deeply, and uses his abilities to make sure she's always happy.
Origin Info / Details
Macario was a close friend of Zepeta in his early years. Having been born in rural Colombia, people weren't exactly fans of the whole "metahuman" or "devil's work" type deal that was going on at the time. However, both went to school together, and became close friends. Soon, they discovered their powers together, and together, they kept them a secret from society. Over time, they have done nearly everything together, and as a result of their powers, Zepeta has slightly lost his mind, but Marcario didn't really take notice until it was too late. When Zepeta came to power in Colombia, Macario was appointed as "Executive General", which was essentially Zepeta's right hand man. While Zepeta ruled the country, Macario handled internal affairs and interrogations. Soon, Macario met Vanessa Rodriguez, one of the palace guards, and over time, they had an affair together and became lovers in secret. Soon after Zepeta came to power, he completely eliminated all terrorist threats, but started targeting innocent people and good metahumans, which is something Marcario didn't agree with. While Marcario wasn't a fan of Zepeta and how crazy he has become, Marcario feared for himself and Vanessa so he didn't rebel. It wasn't long before the combined efforts of USAN wrested Colombia from Zepeta, and knowing how Zepeta has gone off the deep end for a long time, Marcario brought Vanessa and Zepeta's family to USAN-controlled territory. After surrendering to USAN, he was transferred to the International Criminal Court in order to face war crime trials after Zepeta's regime has fallen. However, after being recruited by Papa Sierra, he and Vanessa were acquitted. Thanks to Eagle Eye, all of his data was scrubbed, and he was given the new name of Vicente Morales, and the callsign "Sandman". He was placed in Galm Team almost immediately, where he went straight to action with his new team. To this day, Macario works for Papa Sierra as an intelligence agent in Galm Team.
Hero Type
Psychic
Power Level
Street Level
Powers
Active Powers
Telepathic Tranquilizer
With the wave of a hand, Vicente could put anyone he so desires to sleep. However, he could only do this to one person at a time, and the sleep only lasts for around an hour on average. He normally uses this in order to either tranquilize unruly individuals, or to put them to sleep and enter their minds with his other abilities.
Reality Dreamer
Vicente can enter anyone's mind, and put himself in a half-asleep state to do so. While he can pull himself out of it any time he wishes, he cannot sense anything around him during this time. When he enter's a target's mind, he can explore and control the landscape in it, creating worlds and scenarios to his own desires. Whatever he thinks up can have real-world effects on the target if anything happens to them, and often times he uses this ability to interrogate/torture his targets, and to please his lover, both to which are almost garaunteed effective. Pain, damage, pleasure and such are all sensations the mind registers on a false level, but when someone dies within the mindscape, they die in reality too.
Memory Changer
Vicente can experience his target's memories, and he can either change details in them, erase them, or make them more clearer by adding details he experienced himself. This ability is an extension of the above, and is often done in order to learn important information about anyone or anything.
Light Illusion
Vicente can cast some minor illusions to one target at a time, making their brains register some things differently in a subtle fashion. However, he can only do this to one target at a time, and the illusions are small.
Passive Powers
Co-Op Dreamer
All dreams he has are lucid dreams, and whoever is sleeping nearby him will share the dream with him. Both can manipulate the dream, but no one can actually harm each other as listed in the Reality Dreamer power.
Attributes
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 190 lbs.
Strength Level: Normal Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Average Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Average Human
Agility: Average Human
Intelligence: Above Average
Fighting Skill: Trained+ / Experienced
Resources: [REDACTED]
Resources
See Papa Sierra down below for standard equipment. He normally just wears the Papa Sierra proprietary vest underneath his suit, and carries the standard issue sidearm with him.
Weaknesses
Vicente's only strength is within his mind. He's just as vulnerable as any other human being.
Supporting Characters
See Papa Sierra below for supporting NPCs.
Face Claim: Roberto Manrique
"STAY FOREVER" by MYSTXRIVL (Love Theme)
"Proxima" by Ember Waves (Powered Theme)
Full Name
Morena Carvallo | Vanessa Rodriguez
Callsign
Pixy
Status
Active
Speech Color
00aeef
Character Alignment
Walking the Line (Hero-leaning)
Identity
Was Known, Trying to Keep Secret
Uniform
Morena normally wears street clothes when doing undercover work, but whenever she's out on a sting or a raid, she dons the proprietary Papa Sierra combat outfit, sans helmet. All of her clothes are made with special heat-resistant fibers so they won't catch on fire from any of her electric powers.
Character Personality
Morena is a woman who adapts to whatever situation she's in, and brings her skills and experiences to the table in order to do so. While she's a friendly and outgoing individual, often times she finds herself in way over her head, but thanks to her perseverance, she's able to come out on top most of the time. Friendly and not willing to give up, Morena is a woman with sparks in her mind and in her heart.
Origin Info / Details
Born and raised in Colombia, Vanessa lived most of her life like anyone else in the city. She discovered her powers early, and while her parents were very supportive of her, they had to keep her powers a secret lest she be exploited by third parties. Working as a waitress as a teenager, she had lost her parents to the local drug cartels, and lived in a period of grief of some time. Having been orphaned, she had to make her way in Bogota for several years, and eventually, became a soldier in the Colombian Army in order to take on the cartels. The Army discovered her metahuman abilities, and while they wanted her to work with their resources, she wanted to fight, and they couldn't say no. She proved herself a very capable soldier, and after serving for several years fighting FARC, she became a distinguished fighter, having saved the lives of many civilians and fellow soldiers and police officers, and having a decent killcount of militants and terrorists. When Zepeta vowed to destroy the cartels, Vanessa supported him, and after he came to power, she went to work in crushing them with other mixed metahuman/human squads. Due to her previous distinguished service, she was admitted into the Special Forces, where she crushed entire drug cartels and destroyed the entirety of FARC. After the enemy was destroyed and the mission was accomplished, Vanessa was at peace, and opted to join the Palace Guard. She was admitted into it, and thanks to Marcario's sexual exploits, she met him through that, and together, they fell in love. Marcario assigned her as his personal guard. Over time, however, Marcario was slowly bringing Vanessa out of her pro-Zepeta fervor (through both mental manipulation and honest speaking). It took a whole lot, but once she saw Zepeta's atrocities, she was more than willing to stay at Marcario's side (she forgave him for the mental manipulation in regards to Zepeta's atrocities). When USAN started marching into the capital, Vanessa was more than ready to leave with her lover, even if that meant going behind bars. However, after going to the ICC with him, she was recruited by Papa Sierra to work as an operative, and after being granted the name of Morena Carvallo and the callsign "Pixy", she went to work for them as Marcario's personal guard, sometimes participating in Galm Team as part of strikes.
Hero Type
Elemental
Power Level
City Level
Powers
Active Powers
Lightning Element
Morena has control of the element of Lightning. Using ambient energy from almost all around her, she could either transform that energy into useful electricity, or turn it into a deadly bolt of lightning. Her electric abilities know no bounds (except for some scientific boundaries), where she could use lightning and electricity from anything from a personal defense weapon to an arc welder, from a phone charger to emergency power, from an EMP to a magnet creator, from a defibrillator to a light source, from loud speakers to a harmless light show (even both!). However, control of powerful lightning also has required secondary powers, as listed below. She normally uses this power with conductor gloves, which helps her focus her powers on very specific targets.
Passive Powers
Heat Resistance
Morena is almost completely immune to heat as a result of her ability to control lightning. As a result, fire doesn't do much damage on her (maybe on her tools and equipment, and if you're lucky, her clothes as well) nor does most heat based attacks. She will still incinerate if thrown to the sun, but most realistic levels of firey heat she can withstand with discomfort.
Electric Immunity
Morena is completely immune to electric damage, and can absorb it and use it herself.
Flash Immunity
Morena cannot be blinded by any type of flashes. Looking at the sun would still burn her eyes, but any type of flashes will do nothing to her, whether it would be from lightning, lasers, strobe lights or flashbangs.
Energy Absorption
In order to get energy for her lightning, she must absorb energy from around her in order to do that. However, after some time, she was able to master the ability to absorb latent energy from the ground or from the sun, but if need be, she can focus her energy absorption from enemies as well. It's not as direct as lightning, but she can focus it in the general direction of her targets and weaken them, using their energy to power her lightning.
Attributes
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Strength Level: Normal Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Above Average
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Normal Human
Agility: Trained
Intelligence: Above Average
Fighting Skill: Trained+ / Experienced
Resources: [REDACTED]
Resources
See Papa Sierra down below for standard equipment. Aside from standard equipment listed below, Morena often carries grenades and explosives with her that can be triggered remotely from her lightning powers. However, those are special equipment made for her only, and can only activate from a special deliberate voltage she generates.
Weaknesses
While she has the standard weaknesses of any other human being, water could neutralize her powers if used right. However, if she dries herself off (either through normal procedures or through raising her temperature to evaporate water), she could use them normally once again.
Supporting Characters
See Papa Sierra below for supporting NPCs.
Face Claim: Thaisa Liz
"In The Face of Evil" by Magic Sword
A shadowy but powerful organization consisting of the emblem of a Metallic Dove over a Violet-Silver Shield, Papa Sierra has been acting in various conflicts since [REDACTED]. Having been operating abroad to deal with metahumans and to quell various threats, Papa Sierra operates on a 'by any means necessary' doctrine in order achieve their goals. Terrorist organizations, criminal groups, drug cartels, vigilante groups, lone metahumans and even entire governments have become enemies (and eventually victims) of Papa Sierra, and have never won in a long fight against them. Maybe a few battles, but never the war. While the quantity and quality of their resources and personnel are confidential, Papa Sierra is still a force to be reckoned with, with a large arsenal to boot. During the events of Lost Haven, Papa Sierra was undertaking operations in China and the Middle East, and only have recently returned to the US to deal with the threat that is the Hounds of Humanity. Below is the NPC roster for small elite squadron known as Galm Team, which sometimes separates into Crow Team if dealing in a two-team formation.
Papa Sierra operatives carry a variety of equipment. Most notably, almost all personnel on-duty wear Papa Sierra's proprietary Energy Ballistic Vest, which is a vest that protects from all kinds of damage, absorbing energy from metahuman attacks, lasers, ballistics, and other sorts of impacts. While it doesn't make the wearer immune to said attacks, it often saves the wearer's life. All personnel are issued with a sidearm, and on most occasions, Papa Sierra personnel are armed with Glock 21 handguns (.45 ACP). In regards to field equipment, infantry carry modified G3 (7.62mm NATO) rifles, with those trained with AK weapons carrying Galil 329 (7.62mm NATO) rifles. Infiltration or close-quarters missions often field MP5SD submachine guns, with snipers being issued Accuracy International AWM (.338 Lapua) sniper rifles. Belt-fed Saiga-12 (12 Gauge) shotguns, M134 Minigun (7.62mm NATO) and automatic grenade launchers are often issued only to the Synthetic Heavy Ordnance Platforms (SHOPs), though the lighter and much more stealthier Synthetic Combat Intelligence Platforms (SCIPs) carry weapons similar to that of standard personnel.
Most Papa Sierra combat personnel wear outfits like his, often with proprietary Energy Ballistic armor in the place of the plates as shown. Assigned AIs (for example, Eagle Eye) can direct comms, intelligence and battle awareness through the HUDs displayed in either one of the holographic displays mounted, or on a pair of sunglasses, and they can be connected to a wearer's cybernetics to give them proper information. Contrary to what is shown on the linked images, however, the HUDs aren't visible from the outside. They are also armed with various equipment and weapons for the job, such as smoke grenade, flares, different kinds of ammunition to tackle different problems, small explosive charges, the like.
Papa Sierra is often in charge of a variety of weapons, vehicles, facilities and even businesses. The vehicles they drive differ from nation to nation, though when Papa Sierra can get it, they like to field unmanned UH-60 Black Hawk helodrones and Mi-24 Hind combat helodrones, both of which can be manned in emergencies. They also like to take to the skies in F-15C Eagles, F-15SE Silent Eagles, F-15 ACTIVEs, Su-35 Terminators or Jas-39 Gripens, all of which can be manned or unmanned. Papa Sierra often likes to field unmanned aircraft, like MQ-11 Avenger Drones and MQ-47 UCAVs (X-47s), which are often for reconnaissance/ground strikes and for air-to-air operations respectively.
Most Papa Sierra combat personnel wear outfits like his, often with proprietary Energy Ballistic armor in the place of the plates as shown. Assigned AIs (for example, Eagle Eye) can direct comms, intelligence and battle awareness through the HUDs displayed in either one of the holographic displays mounted, or on a pair of sunglasses, and they can be connected to a wearer's cybernetics to give them proper information. Contrary to what is shown on the linked images, however, the HUDs aren't visible from the outside. They are also armed with various equipment and weapons for the job, such as smoke grenade, flares, different kinds of ammunition to tackle different problems, small explosive charges, the like.
Papa Sierra is often in charge of a variety of weapons, vehicles, facilities and even businesses. The vehicles they drive differ from nation to nation, though when Papa Sierra can get it, they like to field unmanned UH-60 Black Hawk helodrones and Mi-24 Hind combat helodrones, both of which can be manned in emergencies. They also like to take to the skies in F-15C Eagles, F-15SE Silent Eagles, F-15 ACTIVEs, Su-35 Terminators or Jas-39 Gripens, all of which can be manned or unmanned. Papa Sierra often likes to field unmanned aircraft, like MQ-11 Avenger Drones and MQ-47 UCAVs (X-47s), which are often for reconnaissance/ground strikes and for air-to-air operations respectively.
Mr. Smith
Team Commander, Intelligence | Metahuman, Vampire (Classic) | Moderate Cybernetics
Status: Active
"Valkyrie"
Heavy Infantry, Riflewoman | Metahuman, Vampire (Variant) | Moderate Cybernetics
Status: Active
"Wizard"
Light Infantry, Scout | Metahuman, Telekinetic Burst | Light Cybernetics
Status: Active
"Sorceress"
Light Infantry, Scout | Metahuman, Super Reflexes | Light Cybernetics
Status: Active
"Warlock"
Heavy Infantry, Rifleman | Normal Human | Light Cybernetics
Status: Wounded
"Dragonborn"
Fighter Pilot, Squad Leader | Normal Human | Light Cybernetics
Status: Active
Edit 9001: Added an Edit History, and added Eagle Eye under "Supporting Characters" list.
Edit 9002: Overhauled Maya's history, changing it a little to make Maya a much more flexible character. Also added some resources, including but not limited to a Helodrone. Also changed Maya's weakness to make it more clear.
Edit 9003: Changed up colors, added a little more stuff for Eagle Eye.
Edit 9004: Added 2 new characters and a faction, changed up Resources in Cipher, tidied up the uniforms, fixed a few errors, and made the powers a little clearer. Changed up theme songs, and clarified a few backstory issues. Changed Cipher's personality to better fit what was shown in the introduction post. Added "Status" infomation for each character.
Edit 9005: Added posting pictures as preview portraits for each character. Also added origins and personality to both Sandman and Pixy, and clarified alignments.
Edit 9006: Updated formatting.
Edit 9007: Edited characters under [REDACTED].
Edit 9008: Changed character colors for [REDACTED] and added 2 more NPCs under their name.
Edit 9009: Changed the name of REDACTED to that of Papa Sierra, revealed their true emblem, and updated Mr. Smith and Valkyrie with their true nature.
Edit 9010: Changed up equipment templates and fixed a few errors. Changed equipment themselves as well. Also changed up Papa Sierra's general outfit motif.
Edit 9011: Fixed URLs.
Edit 9012: Changed the McMillan Tac-50 to the Accuracy International AWM rifle, and fixed URLs again.
Edit 9002: Overhauled Maya's history, changing it a little to make Maya a much more flexible character. Also added some resources, including but not limited to a Helodrone. Also changed Maya's weakness to make it more clear.
Edit 9003: Changed up colors, added a little more stuff for Eagle Eye.
Edit 9004: Added 2 new characters and a faction, changed up Resources in Cipher, tidied up the uniforms, fixed a few errors, and made the powers a little clearer. Changed up theme songs, and clarified a few backstory issues. Changed Cipher's personality to better fit what was shown in the introduction post. Added "Status" infomation for each character.
Edit 9005: Added posting pictures as preview portraits for each character. Also added origins and personality to both Sandman and Pixy, and clarified alignments.
Edit 9006: Updated formatting.
Edit 9007: Edited characters under [REDACTED].
Edit 9008: Changed character colors for [REDACTED] and added 2 more NPCs under their name.
Edit 9009: Changed the name of REDACTED to that of Papa Sierra, revealed their true emblem, and updated Mr. Smith and Valkyrie with their true nature.
Edit 9010: Changed up equipment templates and fixed a few errors. Changed equipment themselves as well. Also changed up Papa Sierra's general outfit motif.
Edit 9011: Fixed URLs.
Edit 9012: Changed the McMillan Tac-50 to the Accuracy International AWM rifle, and fixed URLs again.
Mandate
Character you have created: Unintelligible, translates as 'Indomitable Enforcer of the Divine Mandate'
Alias: Mandate
Speech Color: LightPink
Character Alignment: 'Villain'
Identity: N/A
Character Personality:Mandate--despite striking an intimidating figure-is quite mild in her demeanor; she does her utmost to be pleasant with those around her, and is extremely slow to truly anger in most circumstances. She can be described as a 'gentle giant', and is willing to forgive even severe assaults, holding no personal grudges in regards to damage to herself. Bizarrely enough, even severe bodily damage is treated rather pleasantly by her, save for when it involves someone whose company she enjoys; one of the few things that provokes her ire easily is denying her what she wants- and being able to do so effectively, rather than amusingly futilely.
Mandate is extraordinarily inquisitive, and indulges in this curiosity regardless of what stands in her way- including laws she barely understands and physical barriers that are as paper to her strength. She is a very tactile individual, and enjoys peeling apart what interests her to examine it deeper, regardless of the objects or buildings in question belong to someone else. She finds a simple joy in discovery, and can be easily guided with this.
Mandate can in fact be guided with many things; her demeanor borders on childish and naive, and she is willing to help those who fit a positive role in her worldview with a vast number of things. Said worldview is detached from any sort of 'grounded' perspective. She can quickly get on the nerves with her innocently self-centered demeanor and her tendency towards fits and brooding when she has not received what she wants, and her grasp of right and wrong is very loose, with its focus being almost entirely around what she desires and what those that are her 'friends' desire. That is not to say that she does not understand the law, per se; she simply absolutely refuses to follow it or acknowledge anyone weaker than her that she does not like when they try to tell her what to do and what not to do. She finds thinks that obeying is silly.
Mandate, as a repercussion of her immature demeanor, can be easily distracted in combat unless she is being guided. She is also prone to making a non-sequitur or two quite often-- when without focus or direct conversation- due to the wandering and distracted nature of her idle thought processes.
Uniform/costume: Mandate is a towering figure whose unnatural smoothness brings to mind a synthetic object. Her texture, color, and glossy figure evoke mercury, albeit solid. Her form towers higher than all but the tallest of humans, and is humanoid--but far removed from the human form; she is lacking in any texture beyond smoothness, lacking muscle definition and any characteristics that would mark her as female. Her shoulders are prominent spikes, her hips similarly formed, and her lithe torso works to contrast these sharp features. Her joints are prominent, marking all of the different segments of her body-- more akin to a drawing mannequin than a human body. The strange entity's hands and feet are more akin to gauntlets than human extremities, divided into extremely intricate segments that flex and bend smoothly. Her fingers and toes end in sharp points.
The most ornate segment of Mandate's body is her head. Her face is utterly lacking human features; instead, she possesses a singular metallic orb for an eye that is a deep, rich shade of crimson. Her 'mouth' is a black line that cuts across the otherwise smooth plane. It has the depth of a simple engraving, yet can flex and move to allow Mandate some expression. Mandate possesses a strange assortment of flat, sharp spikes in the place of hair which press flat against her head, forming an imitation of long and slicked hair. These flex upwards when she is agitated or in combat, becoming more akin to a lion's mane.
Origin Info/Details: Arcane artifacts are often considered to be something mythological in nature; when picturing one, the first assumptions made are often of age and mystique. An arcane artifact-- in the mind of society- is something lost to the ages which once split the heaven and earth, or parted the seas, or shattered mountains. It is a reasonable assumption, born from history and the very myths which the populace envisions, but an incorrect one.
In reality, new artifacts are crafted even to this very day, and magic comes in many ever-changing flavors and forms. One such magical flavor-- or profession- is that of golemancy, the creation of artificial servants from natural or artificial materials of the physical world. It is the realm of stone men and metal warriors that would pose a threat to even the fiercest ancient warrior. However, the changing modern age of new warriors and new technology requires something new in itself.
Mandate is this new form. She is the very definition of a dark artifact, and a newborn one at that; her crafting was the work of thousands of stolen corpses new and old, and more than a dozen fresh offerings; a vile fusion of necromancy and golemancy to create something different. Named in an unholy tongue, the Indomitable Enforcer of the Divine Mandate is an artificial soul.
She was forged in blood and sealed in mercury, heralded as a unique pinnacle of the art of golemancy born from the most unstable of materials--flesh and blood and mercury- to gain the most powerful of results. She is a warrior that would weather any storm and shatter any defenses that sought to stand against her masters. She would be a living weapon, for a certain definition of life.
But she refused her calling.
It is folly born of arrogance to forge such an unstable weapon and not expect something to shatter along the way. For Mandate, this shattering came in the form of her ingrained servitude towards her masters, and much of the personality which had formed in her bloody creation.
She was born angry. Perhaps it was the work of the unwilling souls involved in her forging, or perhaps it was the simple pain of her existence fitting itself into the structure of the world. Regardless, the unusually peaceful Mandate was filled with hatred upon her emergence, and-- in their failure to keep her tethered to their will- her creators were without a defense again that hatred.
They were struck down, and Mandate was left alone in the rubble, having claimed her first lives within only moments of her arrival in the world. The only option available to her was to roam and study the world into which she'd been born. The thought held appeal to some deep and instinctive yearning for adventure and information, and so she did, claiming it as her mandate. It was only later, after nearly a month of aimless travel through the wilderness, that the lost and newborn golem found her way into civilization; what wonders!
She was eager to peel them open to see what she could uncover.
Hero Type: Supernatural, though she functions like a Brick.
Power Level: World Level, albeit of a limited scope.
Powers (Be Specific):
New Age Breaker- Mandate's primary and most prominent power is her sheer, overwhelming strength; Mandate does not have the ability to measure what she is capable of lifting, but inbuilt knowledge tells her that it is well in the range of several thousand tons, with all of the sheer durability that this implies. Her control over this force is quite delicate; startling her is an excellent way to get something crushed if she is unfocused at the time, and agitation makes it extremely difficult to control whatsoever. An aspect of this supernatural strength is her ability to apply disproportionate force to her actions. Flexing-- or her equivalent- is enough to snap and ruin bindings, and she is quite capable of destroying walls simply by walking into them and deciding that she does not wish to stop.
Unassailable Godhead-Mandate's durability sits on a similar extreme end of the scale as her strength; she is capable of withstanding massive firepower with ease, and even psychic effects wash over her like rain. Overcoming her resistance through arcane or generally supernatural means also requires unusual effort, but not nearly as much as would be required to pierce it through conventional physical or energetic attacks.
This is further compounded by her sheer ability to survive, as Mandate remains functional until almost total destruction-- although the loss of her eye or entire head renders her strength more of a disadvantage than any sort of useful weapon. She possesses no internal organs or systems to which a fatal blow can be dealt; the entirety of her body is redundant, so long as she still possesses enough material that it can still be called a body. Said body is capable of reforming over time, but too slowly to be combat applicable. She can be expected to fully recover from damage within a month.
Weight of Ages- Finally, in addition to her strength and durability, Mandate possesses a strange control over her weight; she is capable of scaling it anywhere from its 500 pound minimum to somewhere close to her own strength, with all the effects that it entails. Mandate prefers to keep her weight at its minimum, simply due to the fact that even a few tons will see the ground potentially cracking under her feet, but she instinctively scales her weight when under assault with sufficient force to blow her back or otherwise displace her. She has to manually activate it when being carried in a non-hostile manner-- or moved via the inside of a vehicle- if she wishes to escape.
Attributes:
Resources: Minimal; she has nothing.
Weaknesses: The most glaring weakness that Mandate possesses is her speed- or rather, her utter lack thereof. Mandate is bound to a very human speed in both thought and movement, and her reflexive increases in weight in response to forceful movement means that even launching herself with her own strength is only useful in a short and uncontrolled burst. While it requires significant force to even scrape her flesh, to say nothing of what is required to truly harm her, it takes barely any level of speed or agility to outrun or outmaneuver the living artifact; even low-level speedsters can stay well out of her reach, and fliers are inaccessible unless she is armed with some form of weaponry.
Additionally, Mandate's vast profile of resistances is crude- which is to say, it does not select based upon 'good' or 'bad'. Even beneficial effects are blocked, such as being teleported out of danger, healed, communicated with telepathically, or being modified or granted additional powers in any way. To achieve these things is not impossible, but it requires the same effort it would take to pierce her defenses. It is due to this that artificially enhancing Mandate's speed is nearly impossible; the energy costs go beyond prohibitive.
Mandate reads extremely ominously to those who can interpret the past or sense the 'spirit' of a being, due to her very nature being formed from thousands of desecrated graves and numerous fresh sacrifices brutally melted down into a singular figure. Whether or not this is deserved, it makes it even more difficult for her to hide herself. She is, in shorter terms, innately spiritually tainted.
Perhaps it is unfortunate that she's more vulnerable to these sorts of individuals than most other things, due to the manner in which her durability functions. Her creators had not intended for her to fight the arcane or supernatural, after all; they can be said to be her 'Achilles heel'.
Supporting Characters (Does your character have a significant other? A mother? Friend? Who are they, what do they have to do with your character?):
Divine Mandate (Antagonists)- A strange, large cabal of arcane individuals that seeks a new world order under their 'divine' rule-- or rather, what is left of them. The vast majority of them perished in Mandate's birth, along with their greatest rituals and the knowledge that was used to create her, but she thinks she saw one or two of them leaving before she had even fully formed.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:
(Yes.)
Sample Post (Minimum Four paragraphs containing dialogue. As this is an Advanced Level game, Sample must also meet the RPG forum's minimum requirement of 12 lines. Only for first time applicants.):
"... Still there?"
"--hasn't stopped staring-"
"Have you--"
Pretty. That was the word Mandate had been seeking. Mandate finally acknowledged the whispering surrounding her by turning her gaze upwards, off of the jewels that had caught her eye. The way it had glinted in the building's light was so pretty, she hadn't been able to help wandering in to look it over.
The whispering stopped as she looked to and fro, settling into silence until someone coughed. Mandate's head snapped around to focus her red eye upon them-- her. The woman behind the counter that held all the pretty jewels flinched back, withdrawing the hand that had covered her mouth. She was pretty too, Mandate noted. The glint of her earring caught the artifact's eye. Her simplistic mouth formed a pleased smile, in the form of a V stretched across her face.
"U-um, excuse me, sir--"
"Miss." interrupted Mandate, and the woman blinked in confusion, her brow furrowing. She clearly didn't understand. Perhaps the golem had it wrong? The V of a smile inverted as Mandate delicately tapped a finger on the glass covering the pretty things, and elaborated to the other pretty thing. "Girls are called miss?" That was what her thoughts were telling her, and she was used to learning useful things like that from the place in her brain that wasn't her brain.
The woman remained silent for a moment, then smiled again. Something about it looked weird to golem, like the liquid--sweat- accumulating on her forehead, but the woman sounded a little less uncertain when she spoke again. "Oh, yes, yes they are." she answered. "Can I... Help you, uh, miss?" At Mandate's answering nod, the smile grew a bit more solid, and her hands lowered to touch the little wall between them. The counter, that was the word.
"Well, you were looking at these for awhile. These are--" She paused. The towering artifact had already started to shake her head. Her face furrowed up again in thought, and she raised a hand to brush her blonde locks back.
A hand that was gently pushed out of the way by Mandate's significantly larger and clawed one as she grasped one of the woman's earrings. "Can I have this?" she asked, and somehow she managed to look expectant from so far above the woman that her head and shoulders nearly scraped the ceiling. She had dented the door frame on her way inside until she was able to fit, without slowing of course. Maybe that's why there were people outside looking concerned.
The woman was sweating again. Mandate could feel her shaking through the earring, though she didn't understand why. "Oh, h-hah, of course. Lemme just get that for ya, okay?"
The young artifact's mouth inverted once more, becoming a pleased V as she tilted her head and withdrew her hand, watching with interest as the rings were removed from the woman's ear. Her fingers fumbled a few times, but Mandate did not chide her for her clumsiness. She was nice, and pretty. Mandate decided that she liked her.
She liked this place too. Its buildings and pretty lights, different from the forests, its people that wouldn't stop looking at her and shaking or making those angry faces. She didn't like them so much, but they weren't near her, so she ignored them in favor of what she wanted.
The rings were dropped into her grasp without fanfare, 4 in all. Mandate's 'smile' grew, and her fingers happily curled around the bundle. She'd probably lose them later, but she wanted to look at them for awhile. She didn't even have to break any glass to get to them. There was only one more thing she needed.
"Where am I?"
The woman breathed out softly, placing her hands back on the counter and presenting another shaky smile. "You're at Rosie's Ru--" An emphatic shake of the head from Mandate silenced her once more. She'd already seen the pretty sign outside, and it was very nice, but she didn't want that. She tapped her finger against the glass again, considering her response.
"Not this building, this... Place. This..." It clicked. "City! Yes." She was pleased with herself.
"Oh, ah..." The nice woman recovered even quicker than before. Mandate was pleased. "New York City, si--miss. In the state of New York." New York City New York?. It sounded nice. Weird, but nice. An itchy feeling started inside of her, but she ignored it and it went away. It always went away. Nodding her head, the young golem reached her free hand out, placing it atop the woman's before she could draw it away from where it rested on the counter. She could feel it shaking more.
"Thank you, pretty lady."
Mandate didn't wait for a response from the confused woman. She withdrew her hand, turned, and considered walking through the wall. After a moment, she instead decided to go back through the ruined doorway. The lady was too nice for Mandate to break more of her things so carelessly, after all.
Now, to find one of those nice holes in the ground to hide in to hide in and look at her new things.
Character you have created: Unintelligible, translates as 'Indomitable Enforcer of the Divine Mandate'
Alias: Mandate
Speech Color: LightPink
Character Alignment: 'Villain'
Identity: N/A
Character Personality:Mandate--despite striking an intimidating figure-is quite mild in her demeanor; she does her utmost to be pleasant with those around her, and is extremely slow to truly anger in most circumstances. She can be described as a 'gentle giant', and is willing to forgive even severe assaults, holding no personal grudges in regards to damage to herself. Bizarrely enough, even severe bodily damage is treated rather pleasantly by her, save for when it involves someone whose company she enjoys; one of the few things that provokes her ire easily is denying her what she wants- and being able to do so effectively, rather than amusingly futilely.
Mandate is extraordinarily inquisitive, and indulges in this curiosity regardless of what stands in her way- including laws she barely understands and physical barriers that are as paper to her strength. She is a very tactile individual, and enjoys peeling apart what interests her to examine it deeper, regardless of the objects or buildings in question belong to someone else. She finds a simple joy in discovery, and can be easily guided with this.
Mandate can in fact be guided with many things; her demeanor borders on childish and naive, and she is willing to help those who fit a positive role in her worldview with a vast number of things. Said worldview is detached from any sort of 'grounded' perspective. She can quickly get on the nerves with her innocently self-centered demeanor and her tendency towards fits and brooding when she has not received what she wants, and her grasp of right and wrong is very loose, with its focus being almost entirely around what she desires and what those that are her 'friends' desire. That is not to say that she does not understand the law, per se; she simply absolutely refuses to follow it or acknowledge anyone weaker than her that she does not like when they try to tell her what to do and what not to do. She finds thinks that obeying is silly.
Mandate, as a repercussion of her immature demeanor, can be easily distracted in combat unless she is being guided. She is also prone to making a non-sequitur or two quite often-- when without focus or direct conversation- due to the wandering and distracted nature of her idle thought processes.
Uniform/costume: Mandate is a towering figure whose unnatural smoothness brings to mind a synthetic object. Her texture, color, and glossy figure evoke mercury, albeit solid. Her form towers higher than all but the tallest of humans, and is humanoid--but far removed from the human form; she is lacking in any texture beyond smoothness, lacking muscle definition and any characteristics that would mark her as female. Her shoulders are prominent spikes, her hips similarly formed, and her lithe torso works to contrast these sharp features. Her joints are prominent, marking all of the different segments of her body-- more akin to a drawing mannequin than a human body. The strange entity's hands and feet are more akin to gauntlets than human extremities, divided into extremely intricate segments that flex and bend smoothly. Her fingers and toes end in sharp points.
The most ornate segment of Mandate's body is her head. Her face is utterly lacking human features; instead, she possesses a singular metallic orb for an eye that is a deep, rich shade of crimson. Her 'mouth' is a black line that cuts across the otherwise smooth plane. It has the depth of a simple engraving, yet can flex and move to allow Mandate some expression. Mandate possesses a strange assortment of flat, sharp spikes in the place of hair which press flat against her head, forming an imitation of long and slicked hair. These flex upwards when she is agitated or in combat, becoming more akin to a lion's mane.
Origin Info/Details: Arcane artifacts are often considered to be something mythological in nature; when picturing one, the first assumptions made are often of age and mystique. An arcane artifact-- in the mind of society- is something lost to the ages which once split the heaven and earth, or parted the seas, or shattered mountains. It is a reasonable assumption, born from history and the very myths which the populace envisions, but an incorrect one.
In reality, new artifacts are crafted even to this very day, and magic comes in many ever-changing flavors and forms. One such magical flavor-- or profession- is that of golemancy, the creation of artificial servants from natural or artificial materials of the physical world. It is the realm of stone men and metal warriors that would pose a threat to even the fiercest ancient warrior. However, the changing modern age of new warriors and new technology requires something new in itself.
Mandate is this new form. She is the very definition of a dark artifact, and a newborn one at that; her crafting was the work of thousands of stolen corpses new and old, and more than a dozen fresh offerings; a vile fusion of necromancy and golemancy to create something different. Named in an unholy tongue, the Indomitable Enforcer of the Divine Mandate is an artificial soul.
She was forged in blood and sealed in mercury, heralded as a unique pinnacle of the art of golemancy born from the most unstable of materials--flesh and blood and mercury- to gain the most powerful of results. She is a warrior that would weather any storm and shatter any defenses that sought to stand against her masters. She would be a living weapon, for a certain definition of life.
But she refused her calling.
It is folly born of arrogance to forge such an unstable weapon and not expect something to shatter along the way. For Mandate, this shattering came in the form of her ingrained servitude towards her masters, and much of the personality which had formed in her bloody creation.
She was born angry. Perhaps it was the work of the unwilling souls involved in her forging, or perhaps it was the simple pain of her existence fitting itself into the structure of the world. Regardless, the unusually peaceful Mandate was filled with hatred upon her emergence, and-- in their failure to keep her tethered to their will- her creators were without a defense again that hatred.
They were struck down, and Mandate was left alone in the rubble, having claimed her first lives within only moments of her arrival in the world. The only option available to her was to roam and study the world into which she'd been born. The thought held appeal to some deep and instinctive yearning for adventure and information, and so she did, claiming it as her mandate. It was only later, after nearly a month of aimless travel through the wilderness, that the lost and newborn golem found her way into civilization; what wonders!
She was eager to peel them open to see what she could uncover.
Hero Type: Supernatural, though she functions like a Brick.
Power Level: World Level, albeit of a limited scope.
Powers (Be Specific):
New Age Breaker- Mandate's primary and most prominent power is her sheer, overwhelming strength; Mandate does not have the ability to measure what she is capable of lifting, but inbuilt knowledge tells her that it is well in the range of several thousand tons, with all of the sheer durability that this implies. Her control over this force is quite delicate; startling her is an excellent way to get something crushed if she is unfocused at the time, and agitation makes it extremely difficult to control whatsoever. An aspect of this supernatural strength is her ability to apply disproportionate force to her actions. Flexing-- or her equivalent- is enough to snap and ruin bindings, and she is quite capable of destroying walls simply by walking into them and deciding that she does not wish to stop.
Unassailable Godhead-Mandate's durability sits on a similar extreme end of the scale as her strength; she is capable of withstanding massive firepower with ease, and even psychic effects wash over her like rain. Overcoming her resistance through arcane or generally supernatural means also requires unusual effort, but not nearly as much as would be required to pierce it through conventional physical or energetic attacks.
This is further compounded by her sheer ability to survive, as Mandate remains functional until almost total destruction-- although the loss of her eye or entire head renders her strength more of a disadvantage than any sort of useful weapon. She possesses no internal organs or systems to which a fatal blow can be dealt; the entirety of her body is redundant, so long as she still possesses enough material that it can still be called a body. Said body is capable of reforming over time, but too slowly to be combat applicable. She can be expected to fully recover from damage within a month.
Weight of Ages- Finally, in addition to her strength and durability, Mandate possesses a strange control over her weight; she is capable of scaling it anywhere from its 500 pound minimum to somewhere close to her own strength, with all the effects that it entails. Mandate prefers to keep her weight at its minimum, simply due to the fact that even a few tons will see the ground potentially cracking under her feet, but she instinctively scales her weight when under assault with sufficient force to blow her back or otherwise displace her. She has to manually activate it when being carried in a non-hostile manner-- or moved via the inside of a vehicle- if she wishes to escape.
Attributes:
Height: 8'0"
Weight: Variable; default 500lbs/226kg (see powers)
Strength Level: Incalculable (see powers)
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: N/A; Indefinite
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average, in terms of raw intelligence
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Weight: Variable; default 500lbs/226kg (see powers)
Strength Level: Incalculable (see powers)
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: N/A; Indefinite
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average, in terms of raw intelligence
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Resources: Minimal; she has nothing.
Weaknesses: The most glaring weakness that Mandate possesses is her speed- or rather, her utter lack thereof. Mandate is bound to a very human speed in both thought and movement, and her reflexive increases in weight in response to forceful movement means that even launching herself with her own strength is only useful in a short and uncontrolled burst. While it requires significant force to even scrape her flesh, to say nothing of what is required to truly harm her, it takes barely any level of speed or agility to outrun or outmaneuver the living artifact; even low-level speedsters can stay well out of her reach, and fliers are inaccessible unless she is armed with some form of weaponry.
Additionally, Mandate's vast profile of resistances is crude- which is to say, it does not select based upon 'good' or 'bad'. Even beneficial effects are blocked, such as being teleported out of danger, healed, communicated with telepathically, or being modified or granted additional powers in any way. To achieve these things is not impossible, but it requires the same effort it would take to pierce her defenses. It is due to this that artificially enhancing Mandate's speed is nearly impossible; the energy costs go beyond prohibitive.
Mandate reads extremely ominously to those who can interpret the past or sense the 'spirit' of a being, due to her very nature being formed from thousands of desecrated graves and numerous fresh sacrifices brutally melted down into a singular figure. Whether or not this is deserved, it makes it even more difficult for her to hide herself. She is, in shorter terms, innately spiritually tainted.
Perhaps it is unfortunate that she's more vulnerable to these sorts of individuals than most other things, due to the manner in which her durability functions. Her creators had not intended for her to fight the arcane or supernatural, after all; they can be said to be her 'Achilles heel'.
Supporting Characters (Does your character have a significant other? A mother? Friend? Who are they, what do they have to do with your character?):
Divine Mandate (Antagonists)- A strange, large cabal of arcane individuals that seeks a new world order under their 'divine' rule-- or rather, what is left of them. The vast majority of them perished in Mandate's birth, along with their greatest rituals and the knowledge that was used to create her, but she thinks she saw one or two of them leaving before she had even fully formed.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:
(Yes.)
Sample Post (Minimum Four paragraphs containing dialogue. As this is an Advanced Level game, Sample must also meet the RPG forum's minimum requirement of 12 lines. Only for first time applicants.):
"... Still there?"
"--hasn't stopped staring-"
"Have you--"
Pretty. That was the word Mandate had been seeking. Mandate finally acknowledged the whispering surrounding her by turning her gaze upwards, off of the jewels that had caught her eye. The way it had glinted in the building's light was so pretty, she hadn't been able to help wandering in to look it over.
The whispering stopped as she looked to and fro, settling into silence until someone coughed. Mandate's head snapped around to focus her red eye upon them-- her. The woman behind the counter that held all the pretty jewels flinched back, withdrawing the hand that had covered her mouth. She was pretty too, Mandate noted. The glint of her earring caught the artifact's eye. Her simplistic mouth formed a pleased smile, in the form of a V stretched across her face.
"U-um, excuse me, sir--"
"Miss." interrupted Mandate, and the woman blinked in confusion, her brow furrowing. She clearly didn't understand. Perhaps the golem had it wrong? The V of a smile inverted as Mandate delicately tapped a finger on the glass covering the pretty things, and elaborated to the other pretty thing. "Girls are called miss?" That was what her thoughts were telling her, and she was used to learning useful things like that from the place in her brain that wasn't her brain.
The woman remained silent for a moment, then smiled again. Something about it looked weird to golem, like the liquid--sweat- accumulating on her forehead, but the woman sounded a little less uncertain when she spoke again. "Oh, yes, yes they are." she answered. "Can I... Help you, uh, miss?" At Mandate's answering nod, the smile grew a bit more solid, and her hands lowered to touch the little wall between them. The counter, that was the word.
"Well, you were looking at these for awhile. These are--" She paused. The towering artifact had already started to shake her head. Her face furrowed up again in thought, and she raised a hand to brush her blonde locks back.
A hand that was gently pushed out of the way by Mandate's significantly larger and clawed one as she grasped one of the woman's earrings. "Can I have this?" she asked, and somehow she managed to look expectant from so far above the woman that her head and shoulders nearly scraped the ceiling. She had dented the door frame on her way inside until she was able to fit, without slowing of course. Maybe that's why there were people outside looking concerned.
The woman was sweating again. Mandate could feel her shaking through the earring, though she didn't understand why. "Oh, h-hah, of course. Lemme just get that for ya, okay?"
The young artifact's mouth inverted once more, becoming a pleased V as she tilted her head and withdrew her hand, watching with interest as the rings were removed from the woman's ear. Her fingers fumbled a few times, but Mandate did not chide her for her clumsiness. She was nice, and pretty. Mandate decided that she liked her.
She liked this place too. Its buildings and pretty lights, different from the forests, its people that wouldn't stop looking at her and shaking or making those angry faces. She didn't like them so much, but they weren't near her, so she ignored them in favor of what she wanted.
The rings were dropped into her grasp without fanfare, 4 in all. Mandate's 'smile' grew, and her fingers happily curled around the bundle. She'd probably lose them later, but she wanted to look at them for awhile. She didn't even have to break any glass to get to them. There was only one more thing she needed.
"Where am I?"
The woman breathed out softly, placing her hands back on the counter and presenting another shaky smile. "You're at Rosie's Ru--" An emphatic shake of the head from Mandate silenced her once more. She'd already seen the pretty sign outside, and it was very nice, but she didn't want that. She tapped her finger against the glass again, considering her response.
"Not this building, this... Place. This..." It clicked. "City! Yes." She was pleased with herself.
"Oh, ah..." The nice woman recovered even quicker than before. Mandate was pleased. "New York City, si--miss. In the state of New York." New York City New York?. It sounded nice. Weird, but nice. An itchy feeling started inside of her, but she ignored it and it went away. It always went away. Nodding her head, the young golem reached her free hand out, placing it atop the woman's before she could draw it away from where it rested on the counter. She could feel it shaking more.
"Thank you, pretty lady."
Mandate didn't wait for a response from the confused woman. She withdrew her hand, turned, and considered walking through the wall. After a moment, she instead decided to go back through the ruined doorway. The lady was too nice for Mandate to break more of her things so carelessly, after all.
Now, to find one of those nice holes in the ground to hide in to hide in and look at her new things.
Joytex Patron Saint of Procrastination
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
Character you have created: Dean Smith
Alias: X-Ray
Speech Color (Actually say what you're using): N/A
Character Alignment: Hero
Identity: Secret
Character Personality:
Dean doesn't know who he is, a rights activist undercover as a authoritarian superhero, or an authoritarian superhero undercover as an activist. He is torn between his left-wing ideals and more right-wing practicality and is unsure of much of what he does. Generally he is quite quiet perceptive person, has a certain stalkerish aspect to him liking to watch and study others, but has a sense of humour to him and can be quite snarky at times.
Appearance
Dean is 28 and though he looks his age there is an undeniable youthful aspect to him, a mixture of wide eyes, soft pale complexion and unkept dark curly hair. He has a sullen nature and is generally hunched over a little, bringing his 6'2 down a couple of inches. He has a lean but toned build and is somewhat wiry but strong. A trace of a London accent lingers in his speech a remnant from his parents. Reminiscent of a young Ewan McGregor.
Uniform/costume:
Origin Info/Details: (sorry if this is a little convoluted)
Dean was midway through a doctorate in radiology when he had a crisis of conscience, took a gap-year, met a girl and joined New-World: a left-wing human rights group that opposes vigilantism and mass surveillance. As an activist he went undercover to sabotage a project by a company called I-Tech who were planning to build an x-ray camera. The resulting explosion not only destroyed the prototype and research but also left Dean blinded.
Thinking the incident an accident the CEO paid for all medical expenses to try and restore Dean's sight, in doing so they were able to inadvertently reverse engineer the effects of the camera from the strobe imprint left of Deans eyes and unwittingly gave him x-ray vision. The CEO wanted to make him into a superhero and use him as a symbol to show criminals they were always watched, going along with it in the hopes of getting further into the system in order to bring it all crashing down and to use his powers to expose heroes secret identities. X-Ray was born.
As things progressed though Dean found himself wavering, he vision allowed him to see more crime and suffering than he had imagined. A tipping point came when he used his powers to save his girlfriends life. He now has no clue where he stands.
Hero Type (Select one): Other
Power Level (Select one below): City/Street
Powers (Be Specific):
X-ray vision
Can see through stuff, his visor also gives him telescopic and microscopic vision.
X-ray hand blasts
Used more to stun/blind people than for actual damage. Power wise they are less powerful than Wasp's (from the avengers not an actual wasp) blasts when focused.
However they are very versatile; while not very damaging they can penetrate very well and focus on a specific point, allowing him to potentially nick an artery or other such unpleasantness and to shoot through armour. Combined with his vision he can also use to to cauterise internal wounds or to numb pain.
Attributes (Select one at each category):
Height: 6'2
Weight: 14st
Strength Level: Normal Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 40
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Normal Human
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average
Fighting Skill: Trained
Weight: 14st
Strength Level: Normal Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 40
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Normal Human
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average
Fighting Skill: Trained
Resources: Large
Weaknesses:
- Can't see through/x-ray blasts won't work on lead or plot relevant substances
- Durability wise just an average joe
Supporting Characters (Does your character have a significant other? A mother? Friend? Who are they, what do they have to do with your character?):
Ellie Moss: Love interest and fellow human rights activist
George Goldstein: Mentor/Archenemies former owner of I-Tech
Chris Collens: Friend and sketch artist, skilled at visualising X-ray's descriptions
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: YUP :)
Sample Post:
“What do we want?”
“End to vigilantism!”
“When do we want it?”
“Now!!!”
“Companies like I-Tech think they can use CCTV to invade our privacy, super-vigilantes think because they have powers it gives them the right to police us. They're unaccountable and we didn't elect any of them!!!”
“No!!!”
Dean added his now hoarse voice to the crowd's chanting responses. The downpour of rain had matted his unruly mop of hair down to his forehead and drenched his tattered hoodie through to the skin but none of that registered to the post-graduate student. He gripped his wooden sign ever tighter, shouting along with the protestors and focused on the words delivered through the megaphone...or rather on the girl that was delivering them. The I-Tech HQ buildings loomed above them, a name synonymous with dystopian surveillance and rumoured meta-research.
An hour later he and Ellie were sat shivering in a small coffee shop attempting to warm up over a pair of hot-chocolates.
“I thought it went well.” Dean exclaimed, trying to lead off with a positive, his smile admittedly feeling a little forced. This had been their lowest attended protest to date, it felt more and more like the corporation and the capes were winning.
“Bloody weather.” Ellie muttered between sips. Like a lot of bombastic people Dean found Ellie to flip between either hyper enthusiasm or extreme pessimism at the drop of a hat. “We need to do something more than just...protest all the time.” Her frustration was taken out on the fortunately quite durable mug. “I-Tech don't care, everytime the capes beat up some space-squid people think it's acceptable for them to police us.”
“We've started the petition?” Dean offered, setting down his cup. “We can send that straight to the government, they'll have to at least look at it. People are behind us.” He'd joined the New-Word human rights group before he'd met Ellie, though admittedly she had become a big incentive for his dedication to the group. It seemed like a better use of his gap-year than just travelling the world and getting hammered, plus he felt it was really time he put his liberal beliefs into practise.
“Sod the petition.” Ellie spat dejectedly followed by a pout. Dean gave a sigh of resignation and slumped back into his seat.
“Alright then, what do you think we should do?” He asked. Ellie paused for a moment considering something, hesitation was not very characteristic of her. Suddenly she looked up at him, brown eyes shining, then turned to rummage through her bag. Uh-oh, Dean felt he had a sixth sense for when a girl was about to get him into trouble, though lacked the ability to avoid it. This 'date' had an ulterior motive.
“Radiology right?” Ellie asked while flicking through a folder of papers she'd produced from her rucksack.
“Huh?”
“The doctorate your doing, it's in radiology?”
“Yeeeaahh.” Dean answered hesitantly. “It's imaging technology we use it for medical-”
“They're up to something new.” Ellie cut him off. “I don't know what, we're blind when it comes to inside information. But they've been hiring left and right, whole loads of people across different fields and one such position...” She slid a printed sheet of paper across the small table to him.
“Intern in radiology, for work with ultrasound and x-ray technologies.” Dean read the title of the job advert aloud.
“If we have someone on the inside then we can really hit them, do an expose to the press, show people what they're up too,building mass CCTV networks, funding super-vigilantes.” Well wasn't that just convenient. Looking up Dean saw the clear pleading in her face, she was desperate. Are you just using me? He really couldn't tell. “What do you say? We can bring down I-Tech together.”
Shit.
“End to vigilantism!”
“When do we want it?”
“Now!!!”
“Companies like I-Tech think they can use CCTV to invade our privacy, super-vigilantes think because they have powers it gives them the right to police us. They're unaccountable and we didn't elect any of them!!!”
“No!!!”
Dean added his now hoarse voice to the crowd's chanting responses. The downpour of rain had matted his unruly mop of hair down to his forehead and drenched his tattered hoodie through to the skin but none of that registered to the post-graduate student. He gripped his wooden sign ever tighter, shouting along with the protestors and focused on the words delivered through the megaphone...or rather on the girl that was delivering them. The I-Tech HQ buildings loomed above them, a name synonymous with dystopian surveillance and rumoured meta-research.
An hour later he and Ellie were sat shivering in a small coffee shop attempting to warm up over a pair of hot-chocolates.
“I thought it went well.” Dean exclaimed, trying to lead off with a positive, his smile admittedly feeling a little forced. This had been their lowest attended protest to date, it felt more and more like the corporation and the capes were winning.
“Bloody weather.” Ellie muttered between sips. Like a lot of bombastic people Dean found Ellie to flip between either hyper enthusiasm or extreme pessimism at the drop of a hat. “We need to do something more than just...protest all the time.” Her frustration was taken out on the fortunately quite durable mug. “I-Tech don't care, everytime the capes beat up some space-squid people think it's acceptable for them to police us.”
“We've started the petition?” Dean offered, setting down his cup. “We can send that straight to the government, they'll have to at least look at it. People are behind us.” He'd joined the New-Word human rights group before he'd met Ellie, though admittedly she had become a big incentive for his dedication to the group. It seemed like a better use of his gap-year than just travelling the world and getting hammered, plus he felt it was really time he put his liberal beliefs into practise.
“Sod the petition.” Ellie spat dejectedly followed by a pout. Dean gave a sigh of resignation and slumped back into his seat.
“Alright then, what do you think we should do?” He asked. Ellie paused for a moment considering something, hesitation was not very characteristic of her. Suddenly she looked up at him, brown eyes shining, then turned to rummage through her bag. Uh-oh, Dean felt he had a sixth sense for when a girl was about to get him into trouble, though lacked the ability to avoid it. This 'date' had an ulterior motive.
“Radiology right?” Ellie asked while flicking through a folder of papers she'd produced from her rucksack.
“Huh?”
“The doctorate your doing, it's in radiology?”
“Yeeeaahh.” Dean answered hesitantly. “It's imaging technology we use it for medical-”
“They're up to something new.” Ellie cut him off. “I don't know what, we're blind when it comes to inside information. But they've been hiring left and right, whole loads of people across different fields and one such position...” She slid a printed sheet of paper across the small table to him.
“Intern in radiology, for work with ultrasound and x-ray technologies.” Dean read the title of the job advert aloud.
“If we have someone on the inside then we can really hit them, do an expose to the press, show people what they're up too,building mass CCTV networks, funding super-vigilantes.” Well wasn't that just convenient. Looking up Dean saw the clear pleading in her face, she was desperate. Are you just using me? He really couldn't tell. “What do you say? We can bring down I-Tech together.”
Shit.
LeeRoy LeeRoy Brightmane
Member
Seen
24 days ago
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