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Got a lot of important stuff done this week. Everything's coming up Millhouse!
8 yrs ago
Unemployment is a canine XX chromosome.
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Bio
I am a Lowly 20something attic dwelling NEET. I like anime, video games, and only partake in the dankest of memes.
But on the internet I can be anything. Some people choose to be an asshole, and that's sad. I choose to be THE IMMORTAL GOD-EMPEROR OF MANKIND!!! Decidedly less sad.
I love science, politics, technology, and philosophy. I despise mindless small talk.
My favorite color is blue, I enjoy the smell of rain.
It is the year 2025, and earth is in peril once again.
After the events of WWII, the radiation given off by the numerous nuclear tests in the following decades had a subtle effect on the human genome. After the end of the cold war, the mutant population exploded. Hundreds of metahumans began popping up across the globe, with powers and abilities beyond ones wildest dreams. Dozens of private organizations and world governments began recruiting these entities, hoping to serve their own ends; be they philanthropic or diabolical.
Meanwhile, in Latveria, a brutal dictator awaits. Dr Victor Von Doom has gazed into the myriad of infinite possible futures, and has come to a frightening conclusion. The world is rife with corruption, and would be better off under his rule. And so it happens, that he begins plotting his latest scheme for world domination.
In America, the government has begun recruiting superheroes. Their purpose? To form an elite superhuman strike team, defending the US against superhuman threats, and further US interests across the globe. Where will you find yourself in the upcoming war? Fighting to defend the world against doom and his minions? Or will you Join the vicious dictator and help bring about a new world order?
The Masters of evil are a team of powerful supervillains who's roster is constantly changing. Doom has formed them once again to serve his own, mysterious ends. You can choose someone formerly a part of the team from the comics, or create your own super powered villain to join!
The eponymous strike team that will act as the, "Main characters" for this RP. The name will be chosen in an IC scene amongst your characters, so get to thinking!(I swear to god if everyone picks "Team Mcteamface" doom will destroy you all.)
Powers and OC characters must be submitted for approval. GM reserves the right to reject a character for any given reason. "Flying brick" characters are okay but I don't want a full team of 5 superman clones. Be creative!
Name: Typhon; Father of monsters; Bane of Olympus; The Storm Giant.
Species: Monstrous draconic spirit
Alignment: Neutral
Partner: Amon, High Priest of the Cult of Storms.
Faction: Reclamation of Chaos
Sex: Male
Age: Unknown, at least 4000+ years.
The one phrase that can accurately describe Typhon is "Eldritch Abomination." Typhon is only humanoid in the vaguest of senses. His skin is covered in mottled green draconic scales, in many parts darkened by Ash and cinders. He does not have one head, but a hundred. A hundred serpentine dragons sprout from his shoulders, each hissing and howling in a cacophony that drives men insane. His body from the waist down is equally as horrific. His legs were like the bodies of boa constrictors, a repulsive mass of serpents in place of actual legs. Typhon's arms are scarred hulks of draconic flesh, his hands sometimes appearing as dragon claws, other times as dozens of pythons, with burning red eyes and constantly spitting caustic venom. All this would be terrifying enough, we're it not for his immense size. While his true height is difficult to calculate, Typhon stands at roughly 150 meters tall, making him one of the largest spirits on record and often compared to giant monsters like godzilla.
Aura: Typhon's aura is a mix of deep sea blue and green, violent and roiling like a hurricane, befitting his name. Its potency brings a sense of dread and hopelessness, akin to facing something that cannot be stopped, like natural disasters or acts of god.
Typhon is enormously indifferent. Viewing almost all things as beneath him, both figuratively and literally. Being born solely to destroy the gods, Typhon cares little for anything other than destruction. One of the few things he has shown significant emotion in is his hatred for Zeus, the destruction of whom has been one of the few things he has taken significant action towards. He has shown an ability to mimic the social nuances of society to an extent, learned by thousands of years of simple osmosis from interaction with his fellow spirits, and decades of interaction with the human world. This is only used for his infrequent interactions with mortals, and only to further his own interests, as he has no interest whatsoever in social interaction with mortals. The only things he shows even a semblance of concern for are his own followers, and even this is out of self interest; as not having a following in the human world would make him less powerful as a result, so it is in his best interests to keep them alive.
Typhon was born several thousand years ago, in the early stages of human civilization in greek mythology. The world was still young, and the Olympians had just finished fighting off the latest of Gaia's attempts to overthrow them, the Gigantes; precursors to modern giants. Gaia loved all her children, and was still bitter at the Olympians for imprisoning the titans. In a final effort to overthrow the gods, Gaia went to tartarus, an immensely powerful primordial spirit and the very incarnation of the pit itself. Bearing his child, Gaia gave birth to her most powerful child of all. Typhon.
Filled with hatred from birth, Typhon was ordered to march on Olympus and single-handedly end the reign of the gods. Typhon marched across Greece, leaving a trail of apocalyptic destruction wherever he went. When the gods saw him from atop Olympus, their hearts were filled with terror, and they fled to Egypt, transforming into animals to hide from him. To set a good example for the rest of the gods, Zeus steeled himself and faced the beast alone. It went disastrously, Zeus being soundly defeated for the first time and Typhon tearing out his divine tendons. Typhon then secured his victory by hurling Zeus's body far away, hiding his tendons in a cave, and placing the monstrous creature Kampê to guard them.
Eventually, it was Hermes who decided to take action. He managed to sneak past Kampê, steal the tendons, and return them to Zeus while Typhon slumbered. Filled with zeal for round 2, Zeus fearlessly engaged the beast again. Conjuring a massive lightning storm, Zeus used his thunderbolts to set Typhon's heads ablaze and sever his venomous serpentine fingers. Even blinded and crippled, the great beast was not done yet. In a last ditch effort to defeat the king of the gods, Typhon began hurling mountains at Zeus. Summoning up all his energy, Zeus managed to blast the mountains back on top of him, trapping Typhon. Typhon's overwhelming power could not be completely contained however, as the top of his new mountainous prison broke in a plume of lava, transforming it into the place we know today as Mt Etna.
Some thousands of years later, Jesus uttered his final words, "It is done!" And the seven seals overtook the world. Transported to the spirit realm by this immense display of heavenly power, Typhon was overjoyed at his newfound freedom. For the next two thousand years, Typhon plotted on how best to destroy the gods as he regained strength, joining the Reclamation of Chaos in the process. Quickly named one of the leaders of the Reclamation for his overwhelming power and penchant for destruction, Typhon quickly gained a significant following despite being one of the newer members among the other Primordial Wyrms.
When the seals broke two thousand years later, Typhon was eager to wreak havoc upon the world again. When he learned that his power was dampened, and he required a human partner to return to his full strength, he was furious. It disgusted him that he was now reliant on these weakling mortals that he once crushed without a second thought. However, there was nothing he could do to change it, so he settled and began looking for ways to build a following in the human realm, hoping to produce a human strong and obedient enough to channel his awesome might. Support was not hard to find, as a small cult had been secretly worshipping him since he last roamed the earth. Now with real magic and their god standing before them, the cult exploded. Going from a few dozen to a few thousand in mere decades, they rebuilt a massive temple at the base of Mt Etna, and contacted their god. Seeing them as a useful tool, Typhon accepted their worship and now directs them through the high priest, Amon.
Omnilingual: An interesting ability for one so unconcerned with socializing, Typhon has the uncanny ability to speak and understand virtually every known language; be they human, animal, or otherwise.
Spiritual Knowledge: Being millenia old, Typhon has a vast amount of knowledge at his disposal. Like many destructive spirits, Typhon does not pursue knowledge. However, one does not live for thousands of years and learn nothing.
Unique fighting style: Unlike experienced martial artists, there is no grace or technique in Typhon's fighting style. He attacks ferociously, like a wild animal. This makes him difficult to predict in battle, and when ones blows can destroy cities, that can be fatal.
Godlike Strength: Typhon is incalculably strong, physically stronger than any individual Olympian god. He razed many cities, sank entire islands and tore apart entire mountains during his rampage across ancient Greece. He also managed to defeat and subdue the king of the gods in their first encounter, an epic feat in and of itself.
Durability: Typhon is incredibly durable, on par with a major god. Only weapons of tremendous power can harm him, such as Zeus's Thunderbolts, or Posidon's trident. Even from major injury however, he is quick to recover as he possesses stunning regenerative powers.
Natural Disasters: Typhon can summon violent thunderstorms, hurricanes, volcanic eruptions and floods. When he was crushed and imprisoned Typhon sometimes caused Mount Etna to erupt above him, but couldn't free himself for eons.
Heat vision.: One of his primary methods of combat, Typhon can spew jets and torrents of flame from his eyes. These flames burn hot enough to easily melt stone and steel, and can travel kilometers away. Given that he has a hundred heads, and two hundred eyes, the firestorms Typhon can unleash can engulf entire cities.
Poison generation: from his dozens of serpentine fingers Typhon can spew a caustic venom that is lethal even to powerful spirits and can render massive bodies of water toxic and uninhabitable.
Possessions: N/A
Soulshards: N/A
Name: Amon; Father Amon, High Priest of the Cult of Storms; The Champion of Chaos; The storm cultist
Species: Human
Alignment: Neutral
Partner: Typhon
Faction: Reclamation of Chaos
Sex: Male
Age: 65
At 193 cm Amon is a tall, grim, almost skeletal figure. At The kind of person you'd expect to lead a Catholic Church in the 15th century. He is bald, and his face stern and uninviting with small beady eyes and thin black eyebrows. He has long arms hidden in his sleeves, ending in long, bony, fingers. He looks to be in his mid forties, as that was when he stopped aging. His face is angular and wrinkled, with a scowl that doesn't seem to ever leave it. His most common outfit is tan clergy robes with simple leather shoes.
Aura: Amon's aura is bright yellow green.
Amon is a very strict and devout man. Not otherwise informed, one would assume he is a member of the Celestiarchy, and they wouldn't be very far off. Many of Amon's habits and mannerisms are resembling that of a Catholic priest. He denies himself more hedonistic pleasures, and devotes his life to service of higher entities than himself; hoping that dedicated service will lead to similar levels of power. He looks down on those who live their lives recklessly indulging themselves, thinking them foolish and without discipline. Amon believes that we humans are tiny, insignificant specks in the grand order of existence. And in order to exceed that insignificance, everyone must merge into one greater whole. This is how he views the goals of the chaos he serves, and why he has devoted himself to it.
Amon was part of a devout Christian household for much of his early life. His parents were strict and oppressive, often severely punishing him for minor offenses saying, "This isn't what God would want!" as they were beating him. Despite this suffocating treatment, Amon went on to become a very successful priest in the church. He spread the word of God to many people during his years of service. When Millenial day came, he was ecstatic. Finally he could meet the servants of the gods he also served, just like in the old times.
However, his first experience with spirits came not from angels, but demons. Several demons claiming to be angels(that were actually fallen angels themselves) appeared in his town. They spread lies and deciet throughout his town, eventually turning everyone against eachother in a storm of religious suspicion and self righteousness. While his town was destroyed by rioting, The demons joined the fray, gleefully slaughtering and burning everything in sight. With his family dead and his home destroyed, Amon realized the insignificance of human existence; how everything can be erased in a swift moment, seemingly for nothing.
It was in this moment that a human member of the Reclamation of Chaos, part of a force tailing the demonic forces, approached him. In his moment of weakness, feeling betrayed by those claiming to serve his god, and feeling that his god failed to protect him, he accepted the man's offer. He was then inducted into a cult worshiping Typhon, a spirit of Chaos. Magic was studied diligently between the cultists, and Amon showed himself to be quite the prodigy. Amon climbed the ranks quickly, becoming more powerful both magically and in rank. Eventually, Amon was named the next high priest, and the most powerful member of the cult living or dead. Because of his talent, Typhon chose him to be his partner for the soul pact, the champion of Chaos. Attaining the most prestigious position possible within the organization, Amon became a sort of, "Chosen one," for the cult. Bringing in many new followers. Now he works to bring about the return of his master, and the day when almighty Chaos swallows all.
Leadership: Being the leader of a religious organization, Amon is a capable, intelligent, charismatic leader. Being able to sway the masses with a speech or negotiate on the boardroom table, Amon has proven to be a competent leader.
Stick fighting: Amon is a master of the quarterstaff, and his proficiency in staff weapons makes him able to defeat almost any sword user.
Elder wisdom: Amon is old, for a human. As such he has had a lifetime of experiences and has a keen insight on people, and the world around him.
Intelligence: Amon is a quick learner, and has an immense capacity for absorbing and retaining information.
Immense sorcerous power: Being chosen to receive the soul pact with a major god is a prestigious honor, and a heavy burden. Amon must be able to control vast amounts of energy to allow his master to operate uninhibited without suffering severe debilitating health issues. Given his skill, it is not an understatement to say Amon may be one of the most powerful humans alive.
Immortality: Amon is 65, but has the body of someone in their late 30's or early 40's. While not impossible, he has shown no signs of aging further and has very likely achieved the level of magical strength needed to supplement his biological processes.
WIP
Staff of Tempest: A simple looking, six foot metal staff made of bronze colored metal, with an octahedronal crystal embedded in its tip. It is far more durable than its appearance belies, and acts as a splendid conduit for Amon's chaotic magic.
"Give it up kid, you can't beat me." The big man growled.
Not up close. I thought. I needed to blow past him to get to that jammer, I can't keep wasting time on this guy. I raised my arms and Mana flowed into my circuits and gushed into the world, unleashing a firestorm that incinerated everything in its path. The man's eyes widened with shock before slamming shut as he was consumed in a wall of flame. My 6th sense saw the angels white aura through the fog, and a sickening green aura a little beyond that. I directed my firestorm a little to the left so as not to blast her too. I mean, she's pretty good, so she'd probably live, but no need to hinder a temporary ally.
Ka-Boom!
A hole big enough to drive a semi through opened up in the walls of the warehouse, singed wood and hot steel frame littered the ground around us.
Us?
Thick arms crossed in front of his body and his skin gleaming like steel, the commando was still very much alive. Much to my annoyance. I rushed forward and unleash a flurry of concrete shattering punches all over his torso. As my fists connect, his skin changes to gleaming grey everywhere my blows land. I punch harder, faster, the mercury-like substance vastly stronger than steel. Eventually I tire out and jump 50 feet straight back. My reinforced knuckles are sore & my breathing becomes heavy. The strain on my mana reservoir from the firestorm and my constant body reinforce magic starts to become apparent. The amulet under my shirt activates and starts pouring a controlled stream of mana into me, more of my fatigue disappearing with every breath. "Why won't you die!?" I exclaim.
"Heh heh heh, RAAAGH!" He roars as he tears off his shirt, revealing the pulsating quicksilver underneath. He retracts it from his arm seemingly mentally to show the thin membrane of liquid silver. "Liquisteel son. It hardens in response to physical trauma, you can't hurt me!"
We'll see about that. I think to myself. I should have enough soulstuff left to summon my soulshard. Lancelot won't have to go without a weapon for what I'm about to do. I summon three glowing spears floating around me, and begin to charge mana. It seems like a shootout, the air thick with tension. Just before I release, he charges me. Barreling at me like 300 pounds of beef and murder. He is about 30 feet from me when I release my killer combo. I place my Palm on the floor and transmute the floor back into a pool of unhardened concrete. He takes another step, and sinks, knee deep in the slab. As he trips and falls on his hands and knees, I reharden the concrete, trapping his limbs.
"You think this will hold me?" He sneers, and starts to slowly slide free from the liquisteel. I send another pulse through the floor, cementing the grip on his limbs and hardening the floor to impossibly tough levels. Stopped so abruptly, the man grunts and starts exerting a superhuman amount of force to break the magically hardened concrete. Despite my efforts, the man slowly starts sliding out of his concrete prison. But as he spends more and more mana to break my trap, the liquisteel on his back begins to quiver. Desperately trying to keep him still and aim at the same time, I fire my soul spears. My hunch pays off, he had little mana to spare to harden his back, his concentration spent attempting to break free. My spears penetrate the still liquid steel, puncturing his vital organs. As his lifeless body slumps to the ground, I put out a powerful scan for the jammer. Penetrating the veil, I see him behind the building next to this one.
And the only thing in between us is that gunner spirit in the ally with the angel. Fuck. Oh well, it's two on one. We can take him. I put my body reinforce on, throw up some shimmering blue shields, and jog out of the hole in made in the building to see how she's doing.
So can soulless beings use magic? There isn't a lot of info on them in the Codex other than they exist.
If so, where would they store mana? Would they be more reliant on their bodies mana circuitry to store mana and preform magical feats?
If a deities soul is a stable structure without the need for a body, could there theoretically be a sufficiently powerful mind capable of similar feats? A network of pure psionic energy existing without body or soul?
"GLADLY!" I exclaim, and I prepare for combat. Things resembling glowing blue circuitry race across my skin, covering my whole body in the glowing blue TRON lines that signify my reinforce magic. This angel just saved my life and doesn't seem to be too keen on ending it. So I guess questions can come later.
"You take the gunner! I'll handle the jammer!" I send telepathically. My feet send cracks that spiderweb through the concrete as I jump clean across the street rooftops. "My spirit can handle the CQC PCU on the ground, is your partner nearby? Can she take some of these guys? Even the odds a bit?"
I'm talking as I tackle the CQC specialist that stabbed the angel. He will definitely interfere if I start killing his buddies. We crash right through the warehouse rooftop, dropping another 40 feet to a hard landing on the cool concrete. I pick him up by the collar of his shirt and throw him across the room into the wall, my enhanced strength making it easier than throwing a baseball. He slowly gets up and staggers a bit before steadying himself, and I finally get a good look at him. A 6 foot 6 mountain of man, in camouflage pants and combat boots with a tan t-shirt and a graying blond crew cut. God, give this man a cigar and an m16 and he could walk right onto the set of an 80s action film and nobody would even notice. He pulls out a combat knife and starts walking towards me.
If I don't see a completely artificial soul pact made with a PCU and a human clone with cyborg traits as an eventual enemy I'm going to be disappointed.
Edit: Yeah I know you said something about it, BUT DISPOSABLE HUMAN CLONES USED FOR EXPERIEMENTATION
The big spirit tensed up, weapons drawn and assumed a dangerous looking stance in preparation for combat. Lancelot did similar, the grip on his zweihander tightening ever so slightly. The tension in the air was palpable, but I wasn't worried. Lancelot was the most martial of all the knights of king arthurs round table, no patchwork spirit was going to beat him that easily.
Just as the two spirits were about to tear into each other, a bright light opens up overhead. My scope instantly snaps from the dual to this new arrival, and I am immediately filled with dread. A masked angel, clad in white, descends from the sky and hovers above the battlefield. I consider opening fire, but I manage to restrain myself and see if it isn't openly hostile. Lancelot whips around to face both the newcomer and the PCU, no less relaxed as if he intended to fight both of them at the same time.
"I heard a gunshot. Who are you and why are you attacking innocent people?" Her voice seems to emanate calmness, but it's otherworldly vibration instead makes me even more uneasy. Her face turns to Lancelot. "Are you here to stop him?"
I stand up on the rooftop and call out to the being. "Yes. These people are vile racists and murderers. Their spirits are patchwork unfeeling monsters created by killing innocent spirits. If you have not been sent to hunt me today, your help would be appreciated."
I am a Lowly 20something attic dwelling NEET. I like anime, video games, and only partake in the dankest of memes.
But on the internet I can be anything. Some people choose to be an asshole, and that's sad. I choose to be THE IMMORTAL GOD-EMPEROR OF MANKIND!!! Decidedly less sad.
I love science, politics, technology, and philosophy. I despise mindless small talk.
My favorite color is blue, I enjoy the smell of rain.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">I am a Lowly 20something attic dwelling NEET. I like anime, video games, and only partake in the dankest of memes.<br><br>But on the internet I can be anything. Some people choose to be an asshole, and that's sad. I choose to be THE IMMORTAL GOD-EMPEROR OF MANKIND!!! Decidedly less sad.<br><br>I love science, politics, technology, and philosophy. I despise mindless small talk. <br><br>My favorite color is blue, I enjoy the smell of rain.</div>
