Fantasy or futuristic. Basically one where the "rules" of the world aren't really defined.
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- ArenaSnow 9 yrs ago
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6 yrs ago
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Seeya next week, Guild. Signing off.
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6 yrs ago
Merry Christmas
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6 yrs ago
Elder Scrolls RP, now with the Creation Club!
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6 yrs ago
It's happening again. I have been visited by a soviet mad scientist, a king, a penguin prince of darkness, a house plant god thing, a mystical ancient member, a tired reaper (thank god) + a greeting.
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6 yrs ago
For the same reason Rome 2 was attacked by thousands of players who don't know what they're talking about. lleeeeeeemmmmings
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Bio
Whattr' you stairin' at.
Most Recent Posts
"Engaged in combat? This is not according to plan!"
Grhesus almost yelled at a minor demon who, although being weak in almost every way, was proficient enough in portals and observation.
"He's become far too bold. He said himself the group was a threat, yet he engages them in combat. Prepare Craxis and send him to the town immediately. The Lord Marshall's dead, Zargon should be back, not engaging a group with such diverse a crew!"
He almost collapsed into his demonic chair, wondering what impulse prompted Zargon to attack. It no longer mattered; he had to deal with the situation appropriately. The minor demon was still there.
"Go, dammit!"
The demon almost tripped in leaving the room, vanishing out the door. Grhesus signalled to a knight standing at attention.
"Find Artholath. I sent for him over an hour ago."
The knight nodded wordlessly and walked out.
Zargon found himself pressed on all sides, even as he felt his sword in his hand. Immediately, he felt sharp tearing sensations that went at a deeper than physical level.
What is this?! Do I face an angel? Zargon was being wounded, more than he had expected. More than he should have been.
He kept low to the ground, attempting to maneuver by the Lord Marshall's body, while swiping upwards to keep his foes back. He almost sent a mental signal for assistance, but opted against it. I am Zargon... you fools will not endure... He began shifting while moving into his demonic form, a form which would prove much more effective in combat - if he endured long enough.
Artholath gazed at the bleak, empty desert of grey sand ahead of him. The Border. His research in Zargon's library indicated that it was the place between the Abyss and Hell proper. It was the only place he could expect to have this meeting.
"You wished to meet with me... I am here, but not for long."
Artholath turned around and saw only a shifting mass. Not physical... but not insubstantial. A humanoid figure was in the middle, obscured by dark energy flowing around it and the dark blue "sky" that the border realm seemed to have.
"Indeed I did. I will get to the point, if your time is short. I would like to align with you... rid myself from the faltering shadow of a demon whom's time is past."
A rasp that was probably supposed to be a chuckle came from the figure before him. "You must be meaning Zargon... indeed, his time is coming. If not very soon, then by the powers that move against him. Why should I bring you in?"
Artholath considered the question for a moment.
"I believe we have things to discuss. Things to learn from each other. Things to offer..."
"Very well... walk with me..."
Artholath followed the figure as it turned and walked along the vast, grey desert...
Grhesus almost yelled at a minor demon who, although being weak in almost every way, was proficient enough in portals and observation.
"He's become far too bold. He said himself the group was a threat, yet he engages them in combat. Prepare Craxis and send him to the town immediately. The Lord Marshall's dead, Zargon should be back, not engaging a group with such diverse a crew!"
He almost collapsed into his demonic chair, wondering what impulse prompted Zargon to attack. It no longer mattered; he had to deal with the situation appropriately. The minor demon was still there.
"Go, dammit!"
The demon almost tripped in leaving the room, vanishing out the door. Grhesus signalled to a knight standing at attention.
"Find Artholath. I sent for him over an hour ago."
The knight nodded wordlessly and walked out.
Zargon found himself pressed on all sides, even as he felt his sword in his hand. Immediately, he felt sharp tearing sensations that went at a deeper than physical level.
What is this?! Do I face an angel? Zargon was being wounded, more than he had expected. More than he should have been.
He kept low to the ground, attempting to maneuver by the Lord Marshall's body, while swiping upwards to keep his foes back. He almost sent a mental signal for assistance, but opted against it. I am Zargon... you fools will not endure... He began shifting while moving into his demonic form, a form which would prove much more effective in combat - if he endured long enough.
Artholath gazed at the bleak, empty desert of grey sand ahead of him. The Border. His research in Zargon's library indicated that it was the place between the Abyss and Hell proper. It was the only place he could expect to have this meeting.
"You wished to meet with me... I am here, but not for long."
Artholath turned around and saw only a shifting mass. Not physical... but not insubstantial. A humanoid figure was in the middle, obscured by dark energy flowing around it and the dark blue "sky" that the border realm seemed to have.
"Indeed I did. I will get to the point, if your time is short. I would like to align with you... rid myself from the faltering shadow of a demon whom's time is past."
A rasp that was probably supposed to be a chuckle came from the figure before him. "You must be meaning Zargon... indeed, his time is coming. If not very soon, then by the powers that move against him. Why should I bring you in?"
Artholath considered the question for a moment.
"I believe we have things to discuss. Things to learn from each other. Things to offer..."
"Very well... walk with me..."
Artholath followed the figure as it turned and walked along the vast, grey desert...
Zargon swiftly reformed as The Red assumed a more human visage, and quickly considered his opponent. The speed at which his hastily attempted portal was dismantled was something to consider indeed; it meant his opponent was capable of wounding at a deeper level. Indeed, this was the situation he had desired to avoid; even being a demon of seniority, he was not invincible. But neither is he...
He considered his options. He could dissipate into spiritual form and flee; that would be viewed as cowardly, but could be practical in maintaining full strength. Or he could fight, potentially eliminating or scarring his opponent, yet at possible damage to himself - something he wished also to avoid in light of other threats at home. He opted for the latter.
He could not let his opponent gain the advantage; being on the defensive would weaken him greatly. he responded to The Red's taunt by unleashing a raw barrage of demonic thoughts, turned to energy with his right hand, intended not to harm, but distract and temporarily blind, at best confuse - while the other hand called to him his sword. He assumed a crouch as he was doing so, so he could move quickly in case his opponent attacked before he was prepared. He only barely noticed Tirraian; the energy would come in her direction by the volume he sent out, but was not concentrated at her.
He considered his options. He could dissipate into spiritual form and flee; that would be viewed as cowardly, but could be practical in maintaining full strength. Or he could fight, potentially eliminating or scarring his opponent, yet at possible damage to himself - something he wished also to avoid in light of other threats at home. He opted for the latter.
He could not let his opponent gain the advantage; being on the defensive would weaken him greatly. he responded to The Red's taunt by unleashing a raw barrage of demonic thoughts, turned to energy with his right hand, intended not to harm, but distract and temporarily blind, at best confuse - while the other hand called to him his sword. He assumed a crouch as he was doing so, so he could move quickly in case his opponent attacked before he was prepared. He only barely noticed Tirraian; the energy would come in her direction by the volume he sent out, but was not concentrated at her.
Successful.
Zargon was pleased at how successful the assault went; the sword was impaled in the Lord Marshall's chest. Reaching out his hand, he called back the sword-
-And his head exploded; literally. Zargon's energies temporarily scattered across the wall in a flurry of dark purple and black wisps, with the sword dropping to the ground halfway there. The energies snapping back and reformed, but not completely - and by then the full extent of his nature was revealed, along with a demonic visage that still looked far from human, but at least had some resemblance to a head.
Damn rif-
He couldn't finish his thought before a large mass slammed him into the wall, cracking the stones behind him and pinning him. He used an evasive maneuver he hadn't needed since the War and literally melted, oozing onto the ground in a mass of dark liquid, and quickly slid behind The Red while attempting to create the first wisps of a portal in the dent that had just been formed. He had little time to think, and moved purely on demonic speed and reflex; little cohesive thought (considering his head was blown...)
@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Jon Y@Letter Bee
Zargon was pleased at how successful the assault went; the sword was impaled in the Lord Marshall's chest. Reaching out his hand, he called back the sword-
-And his head exploded; literally. Zargon's energies temporarily scattered across the wall in a flurry of dark purple and black wisps, with the sword dropping to the ground halfway there. The energies snapping back and reformed, but not completely - and by then the full extent of his nature was revealed, along with a demonic visage that still looked far from human, but at least had some resemblance to a head.
Damn rif-
He couldn't finish his thought before a large mass slammed him into the wall, cracking the stones behind him and pinning him. He used an evasive maneuver he hadn't needed since the War and literally melted, oozing onto the ground in a mass of dark liquid, and quickly slid behind The Red while attempting to create the first wisps of a portal in the dent that had just been formed. He had little time to think, and moved purely on demonic speed and reflex; little cohesive thought (considering his head was blown...)
@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Jon Y@Letter Bee
The Red of course cares not for the Lord Marshal, but the real question is, is if Zargon did this somewhere noticable or not; the post is not exactly clear where anything is, as it sounds like that is a great deal away from the tavern most are at.
Doesn't help either that he could not care what becomes of the town much.
This said, it depends entirely on what the split will be, if at all; I can swing it either way, although I admit I will not be twiddling my thumbs this time around if it comes to waiting in responses.
Edit: The most recent post went up in between writing this. Point still stands that it all hinges on who is and who is not going and if Zargon is actually here.
Location is what you make of it; I left that intentionally open-ended.
Full Name: Jackson Marlow
Age: 86, looks as though in his 30's (presently, it changes...)
Species: Shapeshifter
Gender: He forgot. He's usually male.
Sexuality: Little care for species, usually goes with females unless necessity dictates otherwise. Helps that nobody knows his real age... (did I write it above? You don't see that.)
Appearance: (this will probably change over time. I'll try to update these things as the RP moves along, but if there's a change on the spot, it will be described IC)
Presently, Jackson has taken the appearance of a random person he saw at the other end of a bar in Alabama (he decided a change was in order). He's tall, almost 6 foot, at 180 lb, with a figure that indicates some, but not extensive workout. He's definately not fat, but he isn't a mass of muscle (he prefers to take that sort of form). He has short brown hair and matching brown eyes that could almost stare into your soul (I know it's Supernatural, but don't take this literally).
Personality: Cynical, smartass-y, and second-guessing of everything he hears. Paranoia is his middle name when he's high on coffee, but usually he's a casual (too casual sometimes) kind of guy. He doesn't reveal his nature and stays away from cameras, but in every other way he blends in and sometimes does it by being a royal pain. He's the kind of guy who asks why when someone gives orders, speaks when he finds something to be stupid, and would consider an angel an overstiff nuclear bore, while second guessing whatever he (she?... it?) says. Typically he is a little reckless and would be the only guy to really piss off the most powerful being in the room, but he's careful when he needs to be. He hates hunters and thinks they can go where the sun doesn't shine right along with demons. Otherwise he doesn't mind monsters and most humans. Basically, he is a bit of a contrast to his demon-hunting background.
Backstory
Jackson Marlow was born in the dark forests of the western world (a relatively obscure part of southwest Canada). His family is unique in that it is not only a 5 generation line of shifters, it also has a few roots in hunting; odd indeed for a family of monsters. Given their irony, the older members of the family haven't done much in regards to hunting the "normal stuff" - so long as the monsters in question don't get in the way and aren't causing particular harm to people, they get off rather easily. It's ghosts and demons that they target.
As a result of a monster/hunter upbringing, Jackson is sort of the best of both worlds. He is most assuredly the kind of fellow a hunter would normally go after; and for that reason his family has few to no connections with other hunters. At the same time, he knows what takes out monsters, knows his capabilities and has a deep distaste for ghosts and demons, which are what his family hunts (demons particularly). He considers the average hunter to be a stuck up hypocrite with no life to speak of. He is again an enigma - he gets the job done when he goes after demons (in his lifetime, he has 12 chalked up), and is often busy and on the move, yet believes in living at the same time and being open minded about things. Why kill a nest of vampires if they aren't putting things out of balance?
Jackson's casual, but cautious (particularly whenever he gets a "gut feeling") nature and his ability to get along with monsters when it suits him are the keys to his survival - 86 years. Any regular hunter would count their blessings to have reached such an age, but not Jackson. He hates to associate himself with older (looking) folks, as it reminds him of how old he is. He tries to keep up with the times and act like he's under 40. That said, he has a few things to say about how the quality of certain things have declined over the years - don't get him started on appliances or cars. He seems to think both have declined over time. If he gets started on that conversation, just ask about his age.
Extra
-Expect a bit of hunter/shifter drama. After all, don't we need a little drama while the seals are being broken?
-Most weapons he is alright with. He'll flounder a bit with long things, but short ones he can use well (daggars, crowbars, whatever). Guns he isn't a great shot with... at all. A bow's arrow would go back into his face. What he is good at is dirty fighting and dealing with hunters, and a bit of knowledge on what makes a demon say "ow".
-He takes to mimicking people he doesn't like. That means in the course of the roleplay during non-mission times another roleplayer might se their own character walk in and act like an idiot, particularly hunters. Angels would probably get a comical and royally offensive mimic from him as well if he gets off to a bad start with them.
-As mentioned before, he's a bit paranoid. Sometimes that will conflict with the reckless part of his personallity. Paranoia typically wins.
-If you don't already suspect it, he is a bit of a comic relief character. Bit tired of playing the serious folks :) doing that already in another RP.
-If he can get his hands on silver, he wears gloves and smashes it as best as he can with a heavy blunt object as available. Could it be that he hates the stuff?
-If he is being hunted, and knows he can't simply shake his enemy off, he will avoid cameras at all times, and if he is identified he will give the appearance of a vampire. That bit probably won't (or shouldn't have to) come in handy this RP :)
-He would probably get along better with monsters better than anyone else in the group. In fact, he would probably get along better with a group of monsters :P
Age: 86, looks as though in his 30's (presently, it changes...)
Species: Shapeshifter
Gender: He forgot. He's usually male.
Sexuality: Little care for species, usually goes with females unless necessity dictates otherwise. Helps that nobody knows his real age... (did I write it above? You don't see that.)
Appearance: (this will probably change over time. I'll try to update these things as the RP moves along, but if there's a change on the spot, it will be described IC)
Presently, Jackson has taken the appearance of a random person he saw at the other end of a bar in Alabama (he decided a change was in order). He's tall, almost 6 foot, at 180 lb, with a figure that indicates some, but not extensive workout. He's definately not fat, but he isn't a mass of muscle (he prefers to take that sort of form). He has short brown hair and matching brown eyes that could almost stare into your soul (I know it's Supernatural, but don't take this literally).
Personality: Cynical, smartass-y, and second-guessing of everything he hears. Paranoia is his middle name when he's high on coffee, but usually he's a casual (too casual sometimes) kind of guy. He doesn't reveal his nature and stays away from cameras, but in every other way he blends in and sometimes does it by being a royal pain. He's the kind of guy who asks why when someone gives orders, speaks when he finds something to be stupid, and would consider an angel an overstiff nuclear bore, while second guessing whatever he (she?... it?) says. Typically he is a little reckless and would be the only guy to really piss off the most powerful being in the room, but he's careful when he needs to be. He hates hunters and thinks they can go where the sun doesn't shine right along with demons. Otherwise he doesn't mind monsters and most humans. Basically, he is a bit of a contrast to his demon-hunting background.
Backstory
Jackson Marlow was born in the dark forests of the western world (a relatively obscure part of southwest Canada). His family is unique in that it is not only a 5 generation line of shifters, it also has a few roots in hunting; odd indeed for a family of monsters. Given their irony, the older members of the family haven't done much in regards to hunting the "normal stuff" - so long as the monsters in question don't get in the way and aren't causing particular harm to people, they get off rather easily. It's ghosts and demons that they target.
As a result of a monster/hunter upbringing, Jackson is sort of the best of both worlds. He is most assuredly the kind of fellow a hunter would normally go after; and for that reason his family has few to no connections with other hunters. At the same time, he knows what takes out monsters, knows his capabilities and has a deep distaste for ghosts and demons, which are what his family hunts (demons particularly). He considers the average hunter to be a stuck up hypocrite with no life to speak of. He is again an enigma - he gets the job done when he goes after demons (in his lifetime, he has 12 chalked up), and is often busy and on the move, yet believes in living at the same time and being open minded about things. Why kill a nest of vampires if they aren't putting things out of balance?
Jackson's casual, but cautious (particularly whenever he gets a "gut feeling") nature and his ability to get along with monsters when it suits him are the keys to his survival - 86 years. Any regular hunter would count their blessings to have reached such an age, but not Jackson. He hates to associate himself with older (looking) folks, as it reminds him of how old he is. He tries to keep up with the times and act like he's under 40. That said, he has a few things to say about how the quality of certain things have declined over the years - don't get him started on appliances or cars. He seems to think both have declined over time. If he gets started on that conversation, just ask about his age.
Extra
-Expect a bit of hunter/shifter drama. After all, don't we need a little drama while the seals are being broken?
-Most weapons he is alright with. He'll flounder a bit with long things, but short ones he can use well (daggars, crowbars, whatever). Guns he isn't a great shot with... at all. A bow's arrow would go back into his face. What he is good at is dirty fighting and dealing with hunters, and a bit of knowledge on what makes a demon say "ow".
-He takes to mimicking people he doesn't like. That means in the course of the roleplay during non-mission times another roleplayer might se their own character walk in and act like an idiot, particularly hunters. Angels would probably get a comical and royally offensive mimic from him as well if he gets off to a bad start with them.
-As mentioned before, he's a bit paranoid. Sometimes that will conflict with the reckless part of his personallity. Paranoia typically wins.
-If you don't already suspect it, he is a bit of a comic relief character. Bit tired of playing the serious folks :) doing that already in another RP.
-If he can get his hands on silver, he wears gloves and smashes it as best as he can with a heavy blunt object as available. Could it be that he hates the stuff?
-If he is being hunted, and knows he can't simply shake his enemy off, he will avoid cameras at all times, and if he is identified he will give the appearance of a vampire. That bit probably won't (or shouldn't have to) come in handy this RP :)
-He would probably get along better with monsters better than anyone else in the group. In fact, he would probably get along better with a group of monsters :P
Zargon had arrived at the town's central building, and without much trouble was able to enter. Yet he could not see the subject of his quest (he found the term preferable to "victim". He searched every place in the building that was practical, yet the Lord Marshall was not present.
Makes sense he would be out with the people, as compared to sitting around he mused.
He spent the next hour or so wandering, staying away from a few sectors he knew would be trouble had he entered. He knew what his subject looked like from scrying, yet he could not find the Lord Marshall.
An idea came to him, and he changed how he searched. He looked towards the workers in the damaged part of town, people who were helping with the rebuilding. It was there that he found the Lord Marshall, in his red cape, moving debris in a part of town Zargon had initially avoided due to a threat long passed.
Guards... plenty of them he thought. It wasn't the guards that he was concerned about; it was the impression. He needed to make it clear who instigated the events that he would put into play. That required witnesses and a quick escape. Observing the situation, he decided on his course of action.
As he concentrated his mind on forming a portal on the ledge directly above the Lord Marshall, he stepped into the center of the road and drew his sword. Demonsbane, it was called. It had a deep, black and purple glow to it and an aura that was unmistakably demon.
"Lord Marshall!" he called out, holding the sword at his side as wisps of darkness formed on the ledge.
"I have a gift for you... from Jeltheor!" he yelled in a distinctly clear, yet demonic voice.
On that note, he threw his sword directly into the center of the clump of guards, knowing that if all went well, it would pierce directly through armor and body like butter and deal a fatal blow to anyone who it hit - ideally, the Lord Marshall. The wisps formed into dark bats, difficult to see yet distinctly shaped, and the bats swooped down uttering unholy screeches and attacked the group below to maximize confusion.
@IcePezz
((Sorry that it's a bit short and a little thrown together, just wanted to get something up now so I can move things along for this event quickly))
Makes sense he would be out with the people, as compared to sitting around he mused.
He spent the next hour or so wandering, staying away from a few sectors he knew would be trouble had he entered. He knew what his subject looked like from scrying, yet he could not find the Lord Marshall.
An idea came to him, and he changed how he searched. He looked towards the workers in the damaged part of town, people who were helping with the rebuilding. It was there that he found the Lord Marshall, in his red cape, moving debris in a part of town Zargon had initially avoided due to a threat long passed.
Guards... plenty of them he thought. It wasn't the guards that he was concerned about; it was the impression. He needed to make it clear who instigated the events that he would put into play. That required witnesses and a quick escape. Observing the situation, he decided on his course of action.
As he concentrated his mind on forming a portal on the ledge directly above the Lord Marshall, he stepped into the center of the road and drew his sword. Demonsbane, it was called. It had a deep, black and purple glow to it and an aura that was unmistakably demon.
"Lord Marshall!" he called out, holding the sword at his side as wisps of darkness formed on the ledge.
"I have a gift for you... from Jeltheor!" he yelled in a distinctly clear, yet demonic voice.
On that note, he threw his sword directly into the center of the clump of guards, knowing that if all went well, it would pierce directly through armor and body like butter and deal a fatal blow to anyone who it hit - ideally, the Lord Marshall. The wisps formed into dark bats, difficult to see yet distinctly shaped, and the bats swooped down uttering unholy screeches and attacked the group below to maximize confusion.
@IcePezz
((Sorry that it's a bit short and a little thrown together, just wanted to get something up now so I can move things along for this event quickly))
Sorry again about the delay on my CS guys. I had some serious writer's block over the weekend. I'll get it done soon!
Must be going around, hit me a bit as well... but I ended up getting it eventually.
Full Name: Jackson Marlow
Age: 86, looks as though in his 30's (presently, it changes...)
Species: Shapeshifter
Gender: He forgot. He's usually male.
Sexuality: Little care for species, usually goes with females unless necessity dictates otherwise. Helps that nobody knows his real age... (did I write it above? You don't see that.)
Appearance: (this will probably change over time. I'll try to update these things as the RP moves along, but if there's a change on the spot, it will be described IC)
Presently, Jackson has taken the appearance of a random person he saw at the other end of a bar in Alabama (he decided a change was in order). He's tall, almost 6 foot, at 180 lb, with a figure that indicates some, but not extensive workout. He's definately not fat, but he isn't a mass of muscle (he prefers to take that sort of form). He has short brown hair and matching brown eyes that could almost stare into your soul (I know it's Supernatural, but don't take this literally).
Personality: Cynical, smartass-y, and second-guessing of everything he hears. Paranoia is his middle name when he's high on coffee, but usually he's a casual (too casual sometimes) kind of guy. He doesn't reveal his nature and stays away from cameras, but in every other way he blends in and sometimes does it by being a royal pain. He's the kind of guy who asks why when someone gives orders, speaks when he finds something to be stupid, and would consider an angel an overstiff nuclear bore, while second guessing whatever he (she?... it?) says. Typically he is a little reckless and would be the only guy to really piss off the most powerful being in the room, but he's careful when he needs to be. He hates hunters and thinks they can go where the sun doesn't shine right along with demons. Otherwise he doesn't mind monsters and most humans. Basically, he is a bit of a contrast to his demon-hunting background.
Backstory
Jackson Marlow was born in the dark forests of the western world (a relatively obscure part of southwest Canada). His family is unique in that it is not only a 5 generation line of shifters, it also has a few roots in hunting; odd indeed for a family of monsters. Given their irony, the older members of the family haven't done much in regards to hunting the "normal stuff" - so long as the monsters in question don't get in the way and aren't causing particular harm to people, they get off rather easily. It's ghosts and demons that they target.
As a result of a monster/hunter upbringing, Jackson is sort of the best of both worlds. He is most assuredly the kind of fellow a hunter would normally go after; and for that reason his family has few to no connections with other hunters. At the same time, he knows what takes out monsters, knows his capabilities and has a deep distaste for ghosts and demons, which are what his family hunts (demons particularly). He considers the average hunter to be a stuck up hypocrite with no life to speak of. He is again an enigma - he gets the job done when he goes after demons (in his lifetime, he has 12 chalked up), and is often busy and on the move, yet believes in living at the same time and being open minded about things. Why kill a nest of vampires if they aren't putting things out of balance?
Jackson's casual, but cautious (particularly whenever he gets a "gut feeling") nature and his ability to get along with monsters when it suits him are the keys to his survival - 86 years. Any regular hunter would count their blessings to have reached such an age, but not Jackson. He hates to associate himself with older (looking) folks, as it reminds him of how old he is. He tries to keep up with the times and act like he's under 40. That said, he has a few things to say about how the quality of certain things have declined over the years - don't get him started on appliances or cars. He seems to think both have declined over time. If he gets started on that conversation, just ask about his age.
Extra
-Expect a bit of hunter/shifter drama. After all, don't we need a little drama while the seals are being broken?
-Most weapons he is alright with. He'll flounder a bit with long things, but short ones he can use well (daggars, crowbars, whatever). Guns he isn't a great shot with... at all. A bow's arrow would go back into his face. What he is good at is dirty fighting and dealing with hunters, and a bit of knowledge on what makes a demon say "ow".
-He takes to mimicking people he doesn't like. That means in the course of the roleplay during non-mission times another roleplayer might se their own character walk in and act like an idiot, particularly hunters. Angels would probably get a comical and royally offensive mimic from him as well if he gets off to a bad start with them.
-As mentioned before, he's a bit paranoid. Sometimes that will conflict with the reckless part of his personallity. Paranoia typically wins.
-If you don't already suspect it, he is a bit of a comic relief character. Bit tired of playing the serious folks :) doing that already in another RP.
-If he can get his hands on silver, he wears gloves and smashes it as best as he can with a heavy blunt object as available. Could it be that he hates the stuff?
-If he is being hunted, and knows he can't simply shake his enemy off, he will avoid cameras at all times, and if he is identified he will give the appearance of a vampire. That bit probably won't (or shouldn't have to) come in handy this RP :)
-He would probably get along better with monsters better than anyone else in the group. In fact, he would probably get along better with a group of monsters :P
I should have the CS done by monday.
Still a work in progress, and obviously will be updated, but I decided I might as well put what I have in case I'm going a wrong direction.
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