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1 yr ago
Current it's been a decade, back to lurkin'
2 likes
1 yr ago
Yup, still makes me look like a pirate tho till it heals
1 yr ago
4th was great except now I'm dankrupt and somehow got a spark in my eye e.o
1 yr ago
RP the pain away escapism ftw
14 likes
1 yr ago
Kinda wanna start a skateboard team RP. Kinda just wanna go skate. Decisions

Bio

Hiya Deja here, living it up in Miami currently. If I disappear the 5-0 got me again but it's gucci.

Bipolar 1, Pan, Metalhead, Skater/Surfer/MX, tattoo enthusiast. Hmu I role play literally anything if I'm properly introduced.

Most Recent Posts

Posted a diplomat/archer orc to the sheet page. It's a bit of an oddball character but hopefully it works.
Name: Captain Lontok 'Snaketung'
Age: 21

Appearance: Lontok's frame is of average height for an orc, leaning more to the leaner side. Lontok contributes this to a malnourished upbringing under his former masters. He has very sharp eyesight and gaze, along with longer ears than most orcs. His most notable physical attribute is a serpentine forked tongue he was blessed/cursed with. Lontok can usually be seen licking his lips and face with it to ward off insects, or catch them. If it wasn't for his more brutish features one might mistake him for a large goblin, but his skin is too green, and his tusks too long for that. His long dreaded mane is kept at bay at his nape in a small bundle also. A series of Drow characters are branded down his neck in gnarled pale scar-tissue, and his back bears many scars of lashings.He wears a trademark sleeveless leather tunic and what can only be called a tattered robe dragging at his ankles, torn and dirty but barely distinguished as a once black Drow flag(a trophy of a personal victory of his when he escaped.)

Skills/Abilities:

    - Linguist. Lontok knows several dialects of orcish, human, goblin, and eleven. He is more fluent in the formers than the latters.
    - Bowman. Lontok picked up archery during his days under the Drow slavers. He considers himself one of the best shots in the company. He's also a fletcher if he were to have a trade.
    - Fleetfoot. Lontok considers himself very fast and agile, and leans toward these traits when in battle over common themes of brute force of his brothers. He's also sneaky for an orc, clandestine acts coming natural to him during his years as a reluctant slave to dark elves.
    - Diplomat. Due to his knack of languages and talkative nature, Lontok is very diplomatic for an orc, even an outcast such as the company consists of.


Equipment:

    - For a helm, a leather cap suffices, small plates of steel and chainmail sewn into it. His red sash covers everything below the eyes.
    - A crimson fabric of some kind(looks to be eleven in weave if one were to look at it closely) wrapped and draped around his neck and shoulders .
    - Heavy iron plates sewn into a leather sleeveless tunic, leather arm and shin braces with iron bars sewn in, chainmail tunic with plate kilt. Accents and linings of fur around the tunic and kilt provide warmth when needed
    - A heavy dark elf warbow, restrung on steel pegs for high-tensile pull. His quiver is strapped at an angle across the small of his back, black leather and containing about a score of various stocky arrows. Lontok keeps a large dagger tucked between the plates of his chest armor also.

Personality: Lontok is very talkative, never afraid to speak his mind(he's gotten the snot beat out of him throughout his orcish life for that trait). He has a strong knack for learning for an orc, and for whatever reason does not share any xenophobic leanings that the tribes usually harbor. Unfortunately he is also quick to anger like the orcish stereotype holds, but usually lashes out verbally rather than physical. He is more prone to cooperation, having lived through many situations that required it between not only his fellow orcs but also other races. He also has a severe dislike for dark elves as a whole, though a individual could win him over if they proved their loyalty.

History: Lontok began his life a runt in a small clan of Orcs. Unfortunately this tribe warred with another tribe and lost, becoming indentured servants of the victors. Eventually this tribe either bit off more than they could chew, or a some other instance happened, but Lontok and his original tribe were sold into slavery to Dark Elves. Lontok was very young at this age but his early years consisted of labor befitting a little orc. He ran messages to and from the mines his larger kin slaved at, he did stable duties with slave humans, he even was a dockhand for some elvish sailors at one point. Being sold in and out of elvish, human, and occasionally orcish hands was not the kindest upbringing but by the time he reached fifteen winters he knew he would prefer to be his own master.

It only took a few elvish throats slit in the middle of a bandit raid to accomplish his freedom. The human bandits would not accept him, but they did have a rather brutish orc among them that told him of a group of orc sellswords far off to the south he'd heard about. That was all Lontok needed to hear, not really knowing how outcasts functioned in this word being a former slave. It took him about two years to track down, but eventually he found the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi. Radush Eyedrinker quickly found out about his elvish relations in his past and used his insight to better both Lontok's archery and the company as a whole. He's been with them for about four years now, and is considered an valued member of the group. His skills with the bow were quickly noticed(he is now a captain among the Spikes) and his diplomatic nature has managed to train nearly twice as many archers to the company assets since his arrival. During his time in the pike line he got stuck with the name Snaketung, and those Fresh off the Warg love to refer to him as that, they being very unsure about a slick talking orc.

Relationships and Acquaintances:
Radush Eyedrinker--- Lontok considers him one of the few supporting figures in his short life so far, and certainly the one that most enabled his current successful track of life by allowing him to realize his full potential to himself and his ork-kin.

Vibrasse the Elder---- One of a few quartermasters of the company, Vibrasse the Elder has shown the former slave many traditional orc values and customs Lontok was not aware of, and more importantly, ways of war Lontok had never dreamed of.

Ushgar No-Trukk---- Lontok likes to talk, Ushgar doesn't seem to mind listening. Usually Lontok likes to bounce ideas off of the giants stoic visage. See has how Lontok not so secretly harbors a very un-orklike urge for teaching and learning, philosophy, opinions, languages and knowledge from his small collection of books gets ranted. Most everyone else just hears good ole regular complaining from the motormouth but Ushgar is a valued confidant for the archer. As far as Lontok can tell the big fella could and would squish him like a bug if he was too annoying for his own good, so he considers it a profitable relationship.

Perhaps some of the characters know one another, list those acquaintances here. Talk to each other in the OOC about it.
Definitely interested.

I was thinking of a character that might be a bit of an odd role for an orc; an interpreter. Maybe give him a genetic deformity(snake tongue perhaps?) that makes him far more vocally adept, and have him know a few languages that'd help keep the company from getting screwed over in their business dealing. He'd of course be battle tested like any orc worth his salt(I was leaning toward a rough naginata for the character)
Character you have created: Smoke
Alias: Smoke

Speech Color (Actually say what you're using, don't go "Like this", or what not):

Character Alignment: Villain

Identity: Secret

Character Personality (Give information on how your character acts, what he/she believes in, how they handle situations): Smoke is a eccentric and eclectic individual. his extraordinary past has him acting the roles of hundreds of people throughout his life and therefor he comes off as very erratic to many people. He does however know how to see in the long run, and therefor his rushed emotions seem ill advised, he knows how to bide his time. He likes to scheme, to powerplay, and to lurk. He plays his cards close, and keeps his fingers in everyones deck. He is malicious and literally lives off the suffering of others, but seeks power and praise.

Uniform/costume: As a shapeshifter his appearance is always changing but his base forms seems to be this


Origin Info/Details: The origins of Smoke can be traced back to Mesoamerica, circa 15th century. An ancestor bearing powers very similar to Smokes was praised as the human vessel of the god Mictlantecuhtli of the Aztec people. However, another mutant bearing a power of emotional feeding and absorption disputed this claim. This other mutant was a high priest of the Aztec religion, and refuted the claim that their gods would and could walk the earth. It was eventually decided that the earthly vessel should be sent back to witch the god came, to balance nature in the gods absence. The priest agreed, believing that even if this man was a god, he would be solving both his and his peoples problems. As the ritual obsidian knife came down on the ancestor, grabbed the priest, disintegrating the man, and the blade, but before he was done, a bolt of lightning struck the top of the temple and the pair. The only thing that remained was the blade, and the disfigured husk of the priest. Followers believed it as a sign that Mictlantecuhtli had returned to his realm and had punished the priest for believing he could send him back under his own accord. What they did not know was that both of these ancient mutants had been fused into the blade itself. For the remainder of Aztec rule, this blade would manipulate its wielders and seek bloodshed and sacrifice. Countless souls were put to the the alter under this blade, and each soul was absorbed into it, making it more powerful, more persuasive.

With the fall of the empire, and the conquest of the Spanish, the blade sought new hands. The mythical blade sold, stolen, lost, forgotten, recovered, and bartered throughout the Caribbean throughout the early 18th century; secretly fueling the betrayals, murders, and backstabbings of fickle minds and souls that fell under its spell. Eventually a private collector in Spain managed to smuggle it out of a royal convey sending back New World treasure back to the Crown(a transaction laced in deceit and blood no doubt). From there it sat locked away until the Spanish Revolution displaced the artifact. Nazi Treasure hunters then came across the blade, loosing it in a treacherous deal with Japanese officials who placed it in a warehouse in Nagasaki until it could be cataloged and studied. Unfortunately an A-bomb was dropped two blocks down from the warehouse a week later. The nuclear reaction restructured the atomic structure of the blade, hereby serving as a soul-prison for two mutants and a few thousand sacrificial souls spanning the ages, and releasing them. Being trapped in the blade so long had eaten away at the constitution of every soul in the blade, and therefor they formed one cohesive soul during their imprisonment.

This malicious being found its way into then Russian underworld following the end of WW2, reiterating into the modern world of the living behind the Iron Curtain. It is there Smoke learned his criminal habits, becoming an infamous 'series' of KGB agent; each one being a trope played for months until they were 'taken out' wherein Smoke would take on another face and move up the ranks. He became embroiled in the Afghan War, along with conflicts in early communist China, during which time he began monitoring and collecting aliases and contacts for a future 'business' he would later form, going from Cuba, France, Japan, America, and many countries in between disguised as various spies, assassins, and informants. Smoke's contribution to world events has always been speculative but coming into this new decade Smoke has officially decided to start his 'business'. This is more of an ambiguous Terrorist cell, each member working with minimal instruction, minimal contact, and virtually no knowledge of ulterior motives that Smoke has.

Hero Type:
Shape Shifter

Power Level :
City Level with the ability to grow in power to World Level

Powers: Smoke's most noticeable and powerful power is a very passive one; he is a sentient cloud of dark gaseous solid, able to change his atomic structure and molecular form at will. This makes him an incredible shapeshifter, nigh intangible to physical combat, and very elusive and agile. His other more active ability is disintegration; he can use his ability to change atomic structures with matter he comes in contact with. He can disintegrate a full grown man in less than a minute if he concentrates.

Attributes :

Strength Level: Normal Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 100+ MPH.
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 3 hours
Agility: Normal Human, 10X
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Trained
Resources: Large

Weaknesses: Smoke is just that; a gas, and can be manipulated in the same ways they can(if a gas can think and change into liquids or solids that is). His powers feed off of the death of those around him, so he is naturally drawn toward strife and suffering, and has a strong urge to commit those acts.

Supporting Characters:
Tremor: Former Yakuza muscle that Smoke has picked up on 'offseason' as he refers to it.
Keiv's Rose: Eastern European bankrobber of some public acclaim, also a contact of Smoke's
Lotus: ambiguous term for a group of informants that operate in the Chinese/Indonesia theater, former 'company' of Smoke's
Tremor had only been in Tokyo for an hour and was already amazed at how far it had come since he left it eight years prior. On ever corner technology was being embraced, the city was growing, and the people too. But it was also very strange to him, all of it seemed artificial, synthetic, a party full of fake smiles and hushed whispers. Was it a good thing to be dragged along the the rope of progress? Or was all this advancement costing the people, the city, something internally? He could do nothing but hypothesis as he stode through one of the meticulously designed parks that had sprang up to compliment the urban-planning of the metropolis.



The perfectly manipulated pond to his right reflected very little beauty to Harada. All he saw was smog traced silhouettes of tastelessly tall buildings and a stream of incessant traffic flowing through the bloodstreams of the city. His ld life was not long behind him, days of pain, of pride, of servitude. He was the fist of the Yakuza not long ago, a fist that one did not cross. Tremor did not miss that life. No, but that life may have very well missed him. The only reason he had agreed to come back to this place was the first-hand information that a certain little birdy possessed. A birdy that was late. It made meditating on his life very difficult with the sense of urgency on his mind. It would be best not to dwell in the place your enemies called home after all.
Posted. Any interaction, story arcs, or collabs with my character are welcome, just drop me a line on here of PM!
SAN DIEGO, USA in route to TOKYO, JAPAN

Tremor never liked flying. He felt blind without the ground at his feet, perilous zooming through the sky in a big metal tube. The matter of comfort wasn't even considered when he tried to compare it to the sheer alieness of flight. The fun of going through multiple security checkpoints with forged papers was always nice. Being in disguise was also a nice perk. All he needed now was a mini-bar to wreck to get over all of his discomfort at the moment.

It was amazing what a business suit and pair of glasses did to someones appearance. As far as this passenger jet was concerned he was just some stern-faced far-eastern salaryman on his way to some conference. Little did they know a highly wanted international criminal was sitting right next to them as they snored obnoxiously and sat staring dumbfounded at some clique in-flight movie. Harada just kept his nose buried in a paper he'd brought on-board from the terminal. It kept his mind sharp and his manners stern reading recent events. That or it just kept him awake on the coast-to-coast flight. The headlines were at least somewhat relevant today, Tremor mused internally.

U.N. TO HOLD CONFERENCE ON NATIONAL SECURITY REGARDING META-HUMAN THREAT


VENEZUELAN QUAKE DISPLACES THOUSANDS.


LOST HAVEN'S POLARIS TOWER TO BE COMPLETED SOON


ARE YOUR UNDERWEAR GIVING YOU INSOMNIA?


The last headline made him chuckle to himself. Harada skimmed through the article about the tower, something about the tallest structure in the western hemisphere to be completed sometime in the next fiscal quarter. He was on the way to Tokyo, so he didn't much mind the trivia. The monks in Thailand had always said 'Better to be cultured than robbed blind.' However, Tremor wasn't a tourist in this case. No, he had a job to do. The headline about a meta-human conference only interested him slightly; he'd yet found a country willing to handle a threat like that head on. Until that came him and his kin were just as free as the rest of the world to be the little terrorist they all knew they wanted to be. He could hardly concentrate on reading the statistics of his little Venezuelan fiasco over the snoring of the large Canadian to his right. With a slight twist of his left ankle, Tremor sent a small jolt of vibration through the obese mans seat, causing him to pop right back into the realm of consciousness.

"Turbulence, huh?" grinned Tremor, small gold tooth flashing in his smirk as his eyes continued to pour over his paper. The shiny fang winked at the groggy passenger as Tremor ventured a question "What's an eight letter word for 'element that drives a story'?"

"Uh......Conflict?" stammered the man, before being interrupted by the intercom. "Attention Passengers this is your Captain speaking. We will be arriving at in Tokyo International Airport shorty."
@Sep: This a monsoon region due to the mountains to the direct north and west. Currently its at the end of the dry season with the wet season to start any week now. dry season temperatures range from 50F to 80F, wet season being more akin to 30F-60F. It's going to get very wet and cold soon.

Onto geography. The map has been updated, a little creation of mine. There are steep mountains to the north of the city blocking any effective ground movement. The west has smaller mountains but also keeps ground forces pretty much limited to moving in from the south and east. The hostile army has moved in from the southwest, drawing out most of the forces into the eastern plane about two months ago, before a pincer moved in behind them three days ago following a similar northeasterly path, cutting off the city from any reinforcement. As of now, the remainder of the hostile army is coming up from the SW of the city, this time intent on sacking it while the two large armies slug it out n the eastern plan outside the city. It's our job to consolidate our forces and figure out our next plan of attack. A northern redoubt(coords B-7) south of the defunct airstrip(coords A-7) is being assembled as a MASH station and launch point.

Kangaroo, Sep, and Lance, you are all accepted. I should have an IC up tomorrow.
Light Tanks
APCs

Also, the city map has been updated with coordinates. Anything south of the D-axis and west of 7 has been compromised by hostile troops.
Call-sign: Vampire Solid
Combat Role: Infantry Support
Number of Combatants: 6
Armament: X4 Assualt Rifles, x2 DMR X3 Shaped Charge X4 Smoke Canisters
Leader: Lt. Kamarov
Combat effectiveness: 60% 2 members KIA, short on ammunition and spent from marching
Location: C-9 on the map
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