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it hurts

STATUS: At the end of the day, God is everyone's bull. 2 yrs ago
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2 yrs ago
Current At the end of the day, God is everyone's bull.
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2 yrs ago
me the poopy you the pants.
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2 yrs ago
i relate.
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In ①⑨⑥⑧ → 4 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
The Blue Beetle


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I S S U E
#1: First Contact VI

L O C A T I O N
Bayonne, New Jersey. 12:20 AM

T A G S
@Hero@DocTachyon
"I'm really trying not to!"

It was about all Jaime could do to reassure the newcomer that he didn't intend to blast him with whatever the heck the Scarab had just conjured up. Of course, it was debatable how much that mattered when the little blue bug in his spine really wanted to smoke whoever this guy was. He could practically feel the Scarab trying to force his hand back into position, like a soreness in your muscle that you really wanted to stretch out and relieve. This must have been what people meant by itchy trigger finger... Although he wasn't exactly sure he felt his fingers anymore. Or could even move them, what with the cannon stuck on his arm like this.

It was a crying shame he was so preoccupied with suppressing the murderous desires of a machine, too. Blockades? Systems? Corps of aliens? He'd always thought they could be a bit hokey, but tonight was honestly shaping up like an episode of Trek! If he hadn't seen it all—was seeing it all—unfold before him, he wouldn't have believed it. But here he was, listening to two flying aliens talk about a crash landing like it was some kind of parking violation.

<<Additional lifeforms approaching from low-orbit. Twelve in number. Preliminary scans confirm extraterrestrial origin. Subjects: Gordanian. Inhabitant of Sector 2828, Vega System. Species renown for hostility. Caution advised.>>

A parking violation that seemed like it was about to get even more interesting. Especially on account of that word popping up again—Vega. It seemed like the newcomers were friends of the orange girl.

"Not to interrupt, but-"

It seemed his words would have fallen on deaf ears regardless. The girl had already spotted the group descended upon them, and before he knew it she had floated her way over to a nearby light post and was wrenching it from the ground like it was a particularly annoying weed. Then she soared into the sky with a Spanish battle cry, of all things. He wasn't sure which one of those was more terrifying.

"Right. Not friends of hers, I guess."

<<Gordanians renown as intergalactic slavers. Tamaranean aggression levels indicate history of conflict. Confirmation: Not friends of hers.>>

"Thanks, buddy."

Jaime wasn't sure whether or not he was even qualified to intervene in this stuff. But he definitely knew he couldn't sit back and let a girl fight off a dozen alien thugs. If the suit was so keen on fighting with this Lantern fella, maybe it would be keen on throwing down with a different kind of green guy.

<<Engaging: Not recommended. Priority: Elimination of Lantern Corpsmen.>>

"The Lantern isn't the slaver here, now is he? Why don't you do something heroic for once and help me save the girl?"

<<Tamaranean: Inconsequential. Green Lanterns Corps: Enemy of the Reach. Presence of Green Lantern Corpsmen endangers life of organic host and accomplishment of mission. Priority: Elimination of Lantern Corpsmen.>>

It didn't seem like he was getting through to it. But that last bit, that gave him an idea. A stupid idea, but an idea! If it was concerned this Lantern guy was a risk to his life, then all Jaime had to do was convince he Scarab these Gorda-whosits were a bigger threat. While the girl was busying thwacking one of the slavers into the bay like a baseball, the wings of the Scarab unfurled with a hiss. With a low hum, the suit's boosters came to life, and half a second later he was hurdling through the sky, racing to join up with the redhead.

"Think you need any he- Look out!"

Even when he was working against its will, it seemed the Scarab was incapable of ignoring threats. In this case, the little 'projectile incoming' indicator that popped up a second before one of the flying Gordanians shot off a beam of something keyed him off to it before the energy had even been discharged. It was half as much misplaced bravado as it was his inability to exactly stop that saw the armor clad teen blasting his way past the Tamaranean and directly into the path of the bolt.

Which—to his surprise—didn't exactly do much. All that remained were a few crackling sparks, which danced along the edge of a large, circular shield that had replaced the cannon on his now raised arm.

"That... didn't hurt as much as I thought it would?"

<<Gordanian weaponry: Suitable only for chattel containment. Inferior to technology of the Reach. Formulating defensive countermeasure: Trivial.>>

So it seemed. Another few bolts came soaring through the air on the tail of the first one, and each one seemed to dissipate against the surface of the shield, like it was just... absorbing them. Jaime was so emboldened by this new toy, he hardly noticed he had managed to hover! Instead of relishing in that discovery, he turned his head towards the floating girl and her oversized, improvised club.

"¿Yo te cubro?"

In ①⑨⑥⑧ → 4 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
The Blue Beetle


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I S S U E
#1: First Contact V

L O C A T I O N
Bayonne, New Jersey. 12:19 AM

T A G S
@Hero@DocTachyon
Jaime's eyes directed themselves skywards once he was sure the weapon that was his arm wasn't going anywhere funny. Normally, he wouldn't have been able to make out the approaching figure through the hazy night clouds and smokey firework residue. But with the Scarab deployed, the outline of the approaching Lantern was highlighted clearly well before he was within speaking distance. It was... just a man? He had expected some kind of alien, something real big and mean and dangerous to have put his mechanical compatriot into such a tizzy. This just looked like a guy in black and green tights! Although, Superman was also just a guy in red and blue tights, and the news never stopped talking about how potentially dangerous he was...

<<Targets have separated. Opportunity present. Eliminating lone Lantern.>>

In his momentary reverie, the Scarab seemed to have forced his arm—and the cannon it was host to—into the air. He could hear a whirring within it, a charge in the air as it prepared to fire on the new arrival. But he grasped it with his other arm before it could discharge, and forced it downwards towards the pavement below. The hum died down soon after.

"Sorry about that!" The teen called nervously, directing his whispered ire towards the gun-limb once more. "What are you doing? That guy isn't an alien, he's just some... green gringo."

<<Species irrelevant. Lantern Corps: enemy of the Reach. Priority: Elimination of enemy elements. Redirect plasma cannon towards target and fire immediately.>>

"I'm not gonna shoot somebody who hasn't done anything wrong! Besides he doesn't even seem to be here for us... and why do you have a plasma cannon?!"

In all the chaos, it was easy to forget exactly why he and this Lantern fella were in the middle of godforsaken New Jersey to begin with—the alien girl. Who seemed to have an idea of just who their new friend worked for. Granted, he himself had no clue where exactly the Vega system was. Or who the Green Lantern Corps were. Or why they seemed to think an alien crash landing was the equivalent of parking without a meter... but, until five minutes ago, he wasn't entirely convinced alien life truly existed: tonight was a learning experience.

He opted to wait and listen, if only to keep his attention on subduing the Scarab in the face of its unusual aggression.

In ①⑨⑥⑧ → 4 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
The Blue Beetle


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I S S U E
#1: First Contact VI

L O C A T I O N
Bayonne, New Jersey. 12:19 AM

T A G S
@Hero@DocTachyon
The awkward few seconds that ticked by in the interim were like torture. He couldn't exactly blame her for looking surprised—he had the same reaction when he managed to revert back from the hellish appearance the armor made him take on and saw his own face again. It only then occurred to him that her earlier hostility had probably been the result of that same appearance. Note for later: make the mask disappear before trying to conduct interplanetary diplomacy. Of course, he had more important matters to attend to at the moment than scolding himself for ill-considered first impressions; the fact this 'Tamaranean' was inspecting his face rather closely.

Before he could try and articulate anything, she suddenly let out a kind of squeal, and the teen found himself yanked into the now grounded alien in short order. His yelp of surprise was quickly muffled by the alien's own mouth—she was kissing him! Caught like a deer in the headlights, Jaime could only remain frozen and wide-eyed as his new acquaintance seemed content to acquaint herself to his lips. Was he supposed to do something? Grab her in return? Was that impolite? The closest he had ever come to kissing a girl was giving his abuelita a smooch goodbye, and this was not the kind of kiss one gave their abuelita. He wasn't even sure how long the kiss lasted, though it seemed to linger for quite some time before the girl decoupled from him and released him back to his own devices, rosy cheeked and frazzled.

Perhaps the only thing that could have baffled him more than their little embrace was what followed it—she was speaking Spanish? Was that all he had to lead in with? She quickly dispelled that notion by following up in a mixture of English and Spanish, but that only served to dumbfound him more.

"¿De nada?"

It was about all he could manage at that point. Had she somehow discerned his language through that kiss? All the stories about aliens probing people for information seemed a lot more uncomfortable than what had just happened to him.

<<Host's pulse: Significantly above standard levels. Detecting metabolic arous->>

Never mind. It was uncomfortable. It was very uncomfortable. Focus on the situation at hand, and not the little blue pendejo.

Luckily, it seemed the visitor from afar was more than ready to exercise their newfound ability to understand one another. Shaking off his stupor, Jaime listened intently as she explained her earlier actions. He supposed that made sense. Certainly more sense than just randomly pounding the side of a building after crash landing on a distant world. Of course, it occurred to him to inquire as to why she seemed to be shackled in the first place, but that could come later—he didn't want to waste what goodwill had been cultivated.

"Right, uh, don't worry about it too much. I'm sure whoever owns this building has insurance or something," he said, peering past her shoulder towards the now dented wall. "As for the cuffs, I think my suit can probably take care of those? I haven't really tried anything like that, but-"

He hadn't even tried manifesting the armor when the pressure between his shoulder blades returned. The metal plating that he had so painstakingly withdrew moments before came crawling across his body, encasing him in black and blue once again.

"What the heck, man? When have you ever been this willing to help out?" Jaime asked, ever so slightly alarmed by the scarab's sudden reappearance. He didn't want it trying anything rash now that it was clear the redheaded girl proved to be friendly.

<<Tamaranean: inconsequential. New threat approaching. Danger level: extreme. Deploying lethal countermeasures.>>

Before he knew what was going on, the suit's arm seemed to morph. Where there had been once black metallic chitin was some kind of gun barrel. No, that did it a disservice. It was some kind of friggin' cannon. Complete with a snazzy blue glow at the tip that told him it was gonna be firing something more dangerous than a shell.

"What the heck are you—sorry about this—what the heck are you so worked up for?! What new threat?!" Jaime exclaimed, stopping himself mid-way to apologize to the Tamaranean girl before returning his ire towards the weapon jutting out of his arm.

<<New threat descending upon host coordinates. Danger level: extreme. Green Lantern Corpsmen approaching. Prepare for imminent battle.>>

In ①⑨⑥⑧ → 4 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
The Blue Beetle


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I S S U E
#1: First Contact III

L O C A T I O N
Bayonne, New Jersey. 12:18 AM

T A G S
@Hero
Success! It wasn't often being the good at charades came in handy—frankly, this was the only time it had come in handy—but when it paid off, it paid off! There was still a level of tension in the air as the alien floated her way towards him, but she had stopped glowing, at least! That had to be good news. Glowing almost always meant lasers, and Jaime wasn't sure how laser-proof Mr. Kord's beetle robot was.

<<Lifeform distance: close. Potential threat to host: unacceptable. Preparing to neutralize.>>

Of course, Jaime was also not so sure how laser-proof this alien girl was. He might not have been entirely sure of what the scarab was capable of dishing out, but he knew one thing for sure—it wasn't lying.

"We aren't neutralizing her. Maybe she's just... curious." He muttered through gritted teeth as the orange-skinned visitor seemed to circle around him.

<<External investigation: equally unacceptable. Information exchange jeopardizes mission. Neutralization protocols required.>>

"I said we—you are not hurting her. This is my body. You're just the tag along." He could feel the scarab tugging at his body from within; like it wanted him to move against his will, to do something bad. But it couldn't quite force it. It couldn't take control.

<<Host: Unacceptably belligerent. Lifeform has made contact. Action required. Deploying neural shredder.>>

"You're not deploying anything! I will put you away-" It was in that hurried whisper that Jaime realized something. He could put the scarab away. Then he wouldn't have to worry about it hurting anyone! Sure, it would leave him vulnerable, but a good Captain took risks! By the time the scarab had so much as caused a crackle to flicker between its mandibles, Jaime had locked it in a battle of wills.

Go back in, go back in, go back in, go back in, go back INNAAAHH.

He had forgotten, in that moment, how much it hurt to have the creepy crawling burrow its way back into his spine—he had thrown up the first couple of times. But he couldn't do that now, had to represent Earth. Had to bear it. As the metallic plating miraculous began to miniaturize and collapse inwards on itself, Jaime Reyes gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes, feeling the armor shrinking down until it all be disappeared between his shoulder blades with a sickening pop, the scarab going with it.

The chill of wintry air that replaced the comfort of his armor shook him from the white hot pain, and he peeled his eyes open to peer at the alien without the benefit of a lens. The flying, glowy alien who had been pulverizing brick just a few minutes ago, and had apparently been poking at his chin while he muttered to himself like a crazy man.

"I... Uh... Penny for your thoughts?"

Maybe this was a bad idea.

In ①⑨⑥⑧ → 4 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
The Blue Beetle


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I S S U E
#1: First Contact II

L O C A T I O N
Bayonne, New Jersey. 12:17 AM

T A G S
@Hero
Jaime was at least a little bit startled when the alien turned to address him—she did decide to start glowing and floating after spitting out that string of gibberish... Which, in hindsight, was probably a pretty offensive thing to call it. He made a mental note not to call her language gibberish during negotiations. Regardless of whatever he called it, it didn't change that fact he couldn't make out a single word she had said to him. At the very least he had spared the poor building any more trauma.

"I come in peace. I just wanted to check on what was happening; my suit here says you had an, uhm, uncontrolled descent." Jaime said, holding his hands up in the universal signal of 'don't shoot'. At least, he assumed it was a universal signal. In hindsight, probably not a strong bet.

"You said you know what her species is, can you translate her language for me? She does not look pleased to see me." He hurriedly whispered in the meanwhile.

<<Subject exhibits signs of aggression. Speech patterns indicate displeasure in host's appearance. Confirmation: She is not pleased to see you. Suggested course of action: Judicious application->>

"No fire!"

<<Affirmative. Calculating alternative neutralization protocols.>>

Jaime groaned to himself. Seeing as though the scarab didn't want to be especially useful in diplomatic matters, the teen decided to take things into his own hands.

"Look, miss, there's no need to get angry, okay? I just want you to stop hitting the building before someone else in blue—who acts a lot less nice than me—comes by looking for you." He pantomimed her thwacking of the building with one of his hands, then shook his head 'no' several times. Body language. The ultimate form of expression. Yeah, this would work.

In ①⑨⑥⑧ → 4 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
The Blue Beetle


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I S S U E
#1: First Contact

L O C A T I O N
Lower Manhattan, New York City. 12:14 AM

T A G S
@Hero
Having some kind of murderous, robot bug fused with your body came with a lot of downsides. It was always scanning the people around you, always looking for a reason to bring out the big guns, always whispering in the back of your head about the many creative ways it could neutralize potential threats—whether that was a shady looking guy on the curb or Mrs. Martínez' mean ass Rottweiler down the block. It was like having Jiminy Cricket welded to your spine, with none of the conscience and all of the bad attitude the world could muster. But, it also had its upsides. Like being able to fly you all the way downtown in the middle of the night, so you could settle in the skyline and watch New York bring in the New Year with a bang.

It had taken a little finessing, a little white lie about heading to bed early to keep the folks from catching on, but it was worth it. Up here, there were no threats to neutralize and nothing to worry about. It was pretty relaxing, all things considered—a welcome change from the discomfort that usually accompanied being encased in... whatever it was that made up the armor. All Jaime Reyes had to do was kick back, watch the fire works, and try not to let any particularly daring gusts of wind knock him off his perch.

<<Unknown object entering atmosphere.>>

And ignore the buzzing in the back of his head.

<<Atmospheric reentry speed maintained; uncontrolled descent detected.>>

It was probably just the fireworks setting off its sensors.

<<Estimated point of impact: Newark Bay, 40.677320174169694, -74.12057787059817. Time until impact: 24.2 seconds.>>

That sounded specific. That sounded worryingly specific. Deciding to humor the machine inhabiting his body, Jaime pivoted on the ledge of the building he had made his home for the night. Under ordinary circumstances, he doubted he'd be able to make out something that far away. But with the suit enhancing his vision, he could just barely see it—a tiny, blazing dot shooting across the sky.

"That... Okay, that's not good. You're sure it's not a meteor or something?"

<<Negative. Energy signatures in line with technology beyond Earth capabilities; probability of extraterrestrial origin 98.2%. 10.4 seconds.>>

"So... Aliens. An alien is about to crash land on Earth. In Newark of all places?"

<<Affirmative. 2.6 seconds.>>

If the ship hit hard enough to cause a splash, Jaime didn't see it through the urban sprawl of Manhattan. Maybe he wasn't supposed to see anything to begin with. A month ago, the idea of aliens arriving on Earth would have been something he relegated to passing fantasies and old, cheesy sci-fi flicks. But a month ago, he didn't have a suit of magical battle armor like the stuff out of old, cheesy sci-fi flicks either. It was hard to pass off the impossible when you were the impossible.

Plus, aliens were friggin' cool! How could he pass up being the first to meet a Martian? He sure as heck wasn't going to let the poor bastards make first contact with New Jersey; they'd never want to come back if that's what they thought all of Earth was like.

"Can you get us to where it landed? I wanna, uh... Investigate the intruder. From afar."

<<Organic Host: Disingenuous. Advise against approaching object; capabilities unknown, risk to host unaccounted. Prioritize the mission.>>

Always with the mission. As if Jaime had any idea what that meant. Heck, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it meant, with how the little thing suggested overcoming potential obstacles.

"We'll never know its capabilities unless we go looking. C'mon, we're headed out."

Getting the bug to do what he wanted when it disagreed with their course of action—which it did often—was usually like pulling teeth. Trying to practice flying around the neighborhood at night took more than a few failed nights to achieve before it acquiesced and did what he wanted. That struggle must have come in handy now, because all it took was a little bit of focus before the back portion of the carapace opened with a click, and four translucent wings manifested along thin, metallic ribs. A little hop later and Jaime was sailing through the skies above Manhattan, and across the bay towards Newark, the faintest trail of exhaust behind him as the scarab propelled him through the air.



For all its backtalk, Jaime couldn't doubt his involuntary partner's competence. It had only taken a minute or two to jet his way across the city towards the landing site, weaving here and there to avoid the occasional overachieving bottle rocket as he crossed the more populated portions. He did not, however, get to see an alien spaceship for all his trouble; no sooner than he zoomed his way towards the shore facing the bay did the scarab suddenly buzz to life again.

<<Non-standard lifeform detected, coordinates 40.67226910969731, -74.12317516952908. Preliminary scans confirm extraterrestrial origin. Subject: Tamaranean. Inhabitant of Sector 2828, Vega System. Combat potential: far beyond humankind. Approach with caution.>>

It was hard not to notice them. Even from far above, the scarab had locked in on the lone soul as it made its way towards a nearby building and started... wailing on it?!

"Why in the world is it trying to box with a building? We need to get down there and stop it before it catches the wrong kind of attention."

<<Affirmative. Tamaranean physiology resistant to specific wavelengths of electromagnetic radiation. Suggested course of action: Judicious application of thermal energy.>>

"We are not setting it on fire!"

With some effort and just a mite bit of fledgling skill, Jaime circled his way back around and began to descend towards the ground below. He hadn't quite mastered landings yet, and he certainly didn't know how to hover, but at least he had gotten down the 'don't puke in the bug suit' part. That would've made the upcoming introduction much more awkward than it already would be.

A stumbled landing a little ways down the block later, and the youth was just a short jog away from the alien and its incessant thumping. Of course, a bird's eye thermal view and far too many hours watching William Shatner wail on men in rubber suits didn't quite prepare him for what he saw when he rounded the corner to confront this alien threat.

"Visitor to Earth, I request you... Cease... Your... Actions?," he blinked, half in confusion and half to ensure the scarab wasn't playing some kind of trick on him. "Is this the alien? Why is it a girl?"

<<Tamaraneans exhibit similar sexual dimorphism to humanity. Subject appears to be a juvenile. Confirmation: It is a girl.>>

"Yeah, I noticed!"

Remembering he was, in fact, not alone with the scarab and therefore looked just a tad crazy yelling into the blank void beside him, the armor-clad teen composed himself and focused on the task at hand; welcoming this being to Earth. Or, at least, getting her to stop assaulting the side of a warehouse.

"G-Greetings."

Nailed it.

In Asura's Shrine → 4 yrs ago Forum: Character Sheets
| 𝐆 𝐑 𝐄 𝐘 𝐖 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐍 𝐀 𝐑 𝐂 𝐇 𝐈 𝐕 𝐄 |
"Cursed? You have me mistaken. The only one here who bears a curse is you—the curse of my ire."


| 𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐅 𝐎 𝐑 𝐌 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 |

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 |
Aldwin Howe
𝐀𝐆𝐄 |
22
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 |
Male (He/Him)
𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 |
Human
𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍 |
Circle
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 |
Acolyte
𝐇𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄 |
#BDD8DA
| 𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐀 𝐏 𝐏 𝐄 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐂 𝐄 |

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 & 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 |
Five foot ten inches, with a lean musculature.
𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐄𝐘𝐄 & 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 |
Fair of skin, with chestnut brown hair kept short and deep cerulean eyes.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 |
His eyes are a deeper, darker shade of blue than most, akin to looking into the sea rather then the sky.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐅𝐈𝐓 |
Aldwin typically bedecks himself in the styles of Ferelden; tunics and trousers of blacks and browns, with leather boots and gloves to keep his appendages safe. Atop it he wears an olive green surcoat, with the symbol of the Wardens having been recently stitched in. A strap of cracked brown leather is used to secure his staff to his back when it isn't in use, and a similar belt around his waist holds the hilt that marks him as a Knight-Enchanter, ready to be drawn and channeled at a moment's notice. Though his clothing flows and breathes like the robes so many mages wear, they are not robes, and he has a great disdain for the garb of his brethren.
𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐌𝐒 |
Despite having spent more time a mage than a nobleman, Aldwin holds himself with a posture of pride and authority. He carries a certain unfitting severity on his otherwise gentle features, as if to command respect from those he interacts with. His eyes are expressive, and he tends to wear his emotions on his sleeve in spite of his best attempts to remain stoic and aloof. He has a bad habit of fiddling with his hands when nervous.
| 𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 𝐖 𝐎 𝐑 𝐊 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 𝐒 |

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 |
The Grey Wardens are a means to an end for Aldwin—he is a scion of the Vigil, and his place was not to remain in a Circle for the rest of his days, rotting under the disdainful gaze of the Templars. He seeks glory and honor, something the Wardens in their prestige can provide him, and in return offers the boons of magic he has carefully cultivated over the years of his imprisonment.
𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 |
  • Honorable: Aldwin conducts himself with honesty and integrity—he is not the kind to lie or act underhandedly.
  • Courageous: It cannot be said Aldwin is a craven. He will risk life and limb to do what he must.
  • Empathetic: It is perhaps because of his captivity that Aldwin is a man sensitive to the feelings and desires or others, and tries not to trample upon those.
𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒 |
  • Impulsive: Aldwin is a man who is quick to act and this often bites him when patience would serve better.
  • Stubborn: Once he's dug his heels in on a position, you'll have an easier time coaxing a mule than you will convincing him otherwise.
  • Temperamental: Aldwin is quick to anger and prone to let is show.
𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒 |
  • Pretty girls with pointy ears.
𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 |
Righteousness. Aldwin wants to be remembered like the heroes in the story books, who dispensed justice and remained true to themselves and their creed even against the worst of adversities. He will always try to do what he thinks is right, no matter the consequences, to live up to this self-inflicted expectation.
| 𝐌 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 |

☐ 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 | -1
-
☐ 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 | 0
Stamina
☒ 𝕮𝖚𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 | 0
Arcane Lore
Healing
☐ 𝕯𝖊𝖝𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖞 | +2
Riding
Initiative
☒ 𝕸𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 | +4
Arcane
☐ 𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 | -2
-
☐ 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖙𝖍 | 0
-
☒ 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖕𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗 | +1
Courage

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 |
Knight-Enchanter
For Aldwin, the way of the Knight-Enchanter is more than just a simple specialization of his skills as a mage. It was his salvation from the maddening doldrums of the Circle. It was an outlet for his energy, something he could dedicate his body to in favor of the bookish learning so many of his fellows engaged in. It was a way for him to remember where he came from, to fight in the front like his father's knights. It was the way he could turn his curse into a boon, a boon worth being wielded by the man he wanted to be. To be a Knight-Enchanter was to be more than a simple mage to be tolerated, but a warrior to be respected.

Aldwin's usage of his powers follow this trend; he summons forth his razor thin blade of magical energy and wades into battle with the others, conjuring walls of force and barriers to keep him safe where plate could not. With his magic he bolsters himself and his comrades, endowing them with vigor unnatural and imbuing their blades with fire and ice and lightning all. He is a protector as much as he is a killer, a healer as much as he is a bane, using his abilities for the good of his allies just as often as he uses them to cut down his foes.

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 |
𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐘
Novice ► Journeyman
𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏
Novice
𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐒
Novice

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒 |
  • Arcane Lance: A bolt of arcane energy flung from the mage's hands or staff. All mages have this ability.
Arcane
  • Arcane Shield: The mage conjures a protective aura that deflects incoming attacks for as long as this mode is active.
  • Barrier: The mage or an ally is enveloped in a telekinetic field that repels significant damage.
  • Elemental Weapon: While this spell is active, the caster's staff channels its base elemental power across the entire party, enchanting the weapons of allies to give them additional elemental damage.
Creation
  • Heal: The mage imbues an ally with restorative energy, knitting flesh and mending bone.
  • Heroic Aura: The mage enhances the party's aptitude in battle for as long as this mode is active.
  • Haste: The mage imbues the party with speed for a short time.
Knight-Enchanter
  • Spirit Blade: The mage creates a blade of solid magic to make melee attacks against nearby enemies.
| 𝐄 𝐐 𝐔 𝐈 𝐏 𝐌 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓 & 𝐁 𝐄 𝐋 𝐎 𝐍 𝐆 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 𝐒 |

𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 |
  • Acolyte Staff (Fire)
  • Spirit Blade Hilt
  • Lyrium-infused Silver Ring
  • Traveler's Clothes
  • Riding Horse?
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 |
  • Dagger
  • Health Poultices
𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊 |
  • Backpack, water skin, flint & steel, sleeping roll
  • Medical supplies
  • Miscellaneous herbs and plant matter
  • A signet ring, bearing the symbol of the Howe family
  • A suspicious book titled Dalish Darlings
| 𝐑 𝐄 𝐋 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 𝐒 𝐇 𝐈 𝐏 𝐒 |

CHARACTER NAME|
Your character's opinion. Copy & Paste as many times as needed.
In ①⑨⑥⑧ → 4 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
B L U E B E E T L E
Jaime Reyes, 16 (b. 1952)
Based in New York City, New York
Active since approximately December 1967


Character Concept

Jaime Reyes wasn't an especially unique kid. Firstborn son a pair of hard working immigrant parents, trying their best to live out the American Dream and give their family a better life. A good egg, who kept his nose in the books and feet off the streets so he could pay back all that hard work by making something of himself. The type of kid whose greatest act of rebellion was staying up a little later than usual on Thursday nights to catch the latest episode of 'Trek. Jaime Reyes wasn't all that much different from any goodie-two shoes teenager across the good, god-fearing US of A.

Until he got his hands on that damn scarab, that is. Or rather, the scarab got it's hands on him. Or mandibles. Whatever.

Times were tough for the Reyes, just like they were for most of the inhabitants of East Harlem. They didn't have much, but what little they did have cost a hell of a lot more than it was worth. Both his parents worked themselves ragged trying to keep a roof over the heads of their children, Jaime among them. Good son that he was, Jaime decided he would help out. He had taken up a summer job waiting at a hotel in the better bits of Manhattan, where the skin tones got lighter and the pocket books, heavier. He had to fight for it, assure them it wouldn't interfere with his studies when classes resumed, that he could crack a book during his breaks and get home in time for lights out no problem. It took him a couple weeks, but eventually they relented, and like most all of his bargains, Jaime made good on his end.

Of course, Manhattan was a big place, and getting from the haves-nots to the haves took one through a number of bad areas. Jaime—for all his squeaky cleanliness—had grown up in Spanish Harlem his whole life. He knew how to keep his head down, to not go looking for trouble. But sooner or later, regardless of whether or not you go looking for it, in those kinds of places, it finds you. Jaime Reyes found himself on the mean end of a .38 on his way to a shift one dreary October evening. It was a typical shake-down, money or your life, and as much as he needed the money, Jaime needed his neck more. The muggers ended up getting a hell of a lot more than they bargained for when a passerby blew them halfway to Hell's Kitchen—with a BB gun of all things.

Turned out, damsels in distress weren't the only types of people who had a caped hero come to their rescue. Although, at the time, the Blue Beetle hadn't been in a cape. Nor did he own a cape, really. But there he was, in the right place at the right time to save the kid's hide. The youth was thankful to say the least, and spent the rest of the walk to the hotel blabbering ol' Blue's ear off. Turned out, Ted Kord was staying at the very hotel Jaime spent his afternoons and evenings toiling at.

In hindsight, being shot that night might have been the better of the two options.

For whatever reason, Ted must have taken a shine to him. Whenever he finished a shift and the old man was in, Jaime would head up to his room and they'd chat. About anything, the news, old war stories, sci-fi—realistically who else was Jaime gonna talk about Fantastic Voyage with?—and even the occasional new gizmo Kord was working on. It was good, having someone outside the family to look up to. But all good things came to an end. Without so much as a goodbye, Ted Kord checked out of the hotel one night and never came back. Jaime hadn't found out until the day after, as he was finishing up his shift. It was a sad thing, to lose a friend just as soon as you'd made one, but the old man had at least left him a parting gift; a box, full of little gadgets and souvenirs. A box which also held the very scarab that spawned the Blue Beetle mantle.

A scarab that ended burrowing its way into poor Jaime's spine.



Inner conflict is one of the most important vectors for which character development occurs. Some of the most iconic of comic book heroes have long histories of wrestling with their inner demons. Jaime wrestles with an
actual demon. Or something close enough to one. The struggle between good-hearted Jaime and the destructive urges of the Scarab, and their eventual synchronization and collaboration is a central draw for me when it comes to writing the character. I want to explore how the two of them come to terms with—and befriend—one another through their initially rocky partnership.

It's no secret that collaboration is a theme I'm gunning for in this roleplay in general, and once Jaime has gotten his body's favorite hitchhiker under control, I'd like to have him rub elbows with some like-minded individuals. Young folk with some Justice on their minds, and the power to change Society.

Key Notes

Characters of Note





References / Sample Post

manga
are comics
too
In ①⑨⑥⑧ → 4 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
bzz bzz motherfucker.

Sheet is done.
In ①⑨⑥⑧ → 4 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
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