Didos

Invincible - Chapter I : Origination

How many drug users are there on the team? Like, three? o.o

@McHaggis

Sammy's a huge fiend for the stims. Hopefully, there's more in the medicine cabinet than some aspirin.

Invincible - Chapter I : Origination

Well since we have a ton of 19 year old kids I sense a night of drinking and super power abuse happening hahaha

@Write

I think we'll be seeing a massive pissing contest with all these alphas in close quarters.

A Strange World: Building Phlegethon

Very interested. It seems extremely sandbox-y and I love it.

Invincible - Chapter I : Origination

Samuel Pikus

Samuel "Sam" Pikus

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Personality:

Sam is a very easy-going, open-minded guy. He continually strives for knowledge, but enjoys a level of comfort in using his sociability to refrain from discussing his own beliefs that may come off as distasteful, strongly believing in political correctness and presentability. In substantial conversation, Sam often contradicts himself on very personal levels, and openly states the flaws in his thought process. More often than not, his discussions turn into learning experiences taking the form of self-driven rants. He is very honest in who he is, and always carries himself with an aura of confidence.

Sam is very much into experimenting and experiencing. He has learned to embrace every emotional faculty available to him, convinced that they serve to enhance his perception of moments. He thoroughly enjoys the intake of stimulants, to the point of being considered a fiend; although, he also openly partakes in depressants, psychedelics, and most anything else that will give him some sort of buzz or high. Overall, Sam enjoys the general concept of feeling through activities ranging from physical exercises to his own thought experiments.

Appearance:

Standing at 6'0 and 205 lbs, Sam is a lean, mean, athletic machine. He possesses no piercings or tattoos. Since entering his "frat star" phase, he's become accustomed to tank tops, long-sleeve button-ups, backwards caps, tight jeans, baggy athletic shorts, long socks, and expensive shoes ranging from Air Jordans to Sperrys. He is also a visible chain-smoker, often carrying multiple packs of Marlboro 27s or Lights.

Biography:

Sam was born into the streets of Richmond, CA. His mother died during childbirth, and his father, Ray, was a gang enforcer who provided sufficiently, but more than often neglected his interpersonal role as an actual fatherly figure.

Especially during his infant years, Ray was rarely at home. Sam would be left alone in the living room to his own devices for hours unattended; although, nobody would ever dare make any attempt near that house. Ray was fairly known in the area: both for being an extremely gracious neighbor and horribly ruthless whenever his duty called him. Sam would be fed twice a day, before and after Ray got home from whatever business he had to attend to that day, and Sam would either be left sleeping in some corner of the house or patrolling his domain.

At 6 months, Sam learned to walk... across an empty home... with his father absent, of course.

When he was 4-years old, Sam began playing with the children of the other thugs his father associated with. His new peers taught him how to steal, and the older kids first introduced knives to him. Throughout elementary school, Sam became incredibly proficient at shoplifting, pickpocketing, and most importantly any and every getaway he ever had to make. In one instance, he tackled a kid off his bike and made his break riding away on one for the first time, skipping the training wheel stage entirely. From then, he went into a skater phase, trading bikes, skateboards, scooters and the likes until he was cycling through them almost weekly, trading up as he personally saw fit.

In 5th grade, Ray began to take a more hands-on parenting role. He saw his son's crimes as extremely petty and worthless and put him into a Little League team. In his 4 years of baseball, Sam proved to be a mediocre pitcher, an awful batter, but a dominating force on the field. He would make miraculous catches deep outfield, running to the ball's falling point before anybody could even react to it flying away from the batter. The only ones he missed were the ones he wasn't physically fast enough to catch up to.

As his father's lucrative career flourished, so did Sam's quality of life at home. Ray was able to spend a bit more time around his son, albeit still for significantly insufficient amounts of time. Their East Bay ghetto home had modern interiors, including black marble flooring and the largest cable and internet bundles. In his free time, Sam began to immerse himself in his computer, surfing everything from hardcore pornography to academic articles on contemporary international politics.

By the time high school rolled around, Sam became had almost completely removed himself from all the thugs and petty crooks from his childhood. He remained on good terms with them, but he held off from any direct participation in their activities. Instead, he joined the JV Football team, along with every young redneck and aspiring tough guy in the district. Sam wanted to be a jock, and not just any jock but one that sat at the top of the social ladder. He wanted the pride, the attention, and most of all: the girls. It didn't take much time for him to prove himself: during the preseason, Sam had made multiple displays of his competence and proficiency on the field. He was assigned wide receiver and strong safety, able to compensate on-the-fly any of his quarterback's slip-ups and deliver those backfield tackles his linebackers couldn't quite get a grip on. His freshman year, Sam played a major role in his high school JV Football team seizing the division title.

Sophomore year, Sam made Varsity's starting safety. After a Latin I class, his teammates named him "Venator", the hunter. Alongside that, the Pikus written across his helmet during every preseason was how he was addressed across campus. During the offseason, Sam would push his body in every direction possible, exhaustively experimenting with meditation, shadowboxing, and weight training in an attempt to raise the focus and strength behind all of his movement. He also indulged heavily in the party scene expected of any athletic prodigy: heavy drinking, mild drug use, and casual sex.

His Sophomore and Junior years, Sam led his team to state championships. His Senior year, his team's victory at the national level was attributed solely to his defensive prowess. He also graduated Summa Cum Laude with a GPA of 4.56 with near-perfect standardized testing scores and various AP courses under his belt.

In a brief post-championship game interview with ESPN, Sam stated that he was not going to pursue football past high school: "They were fun years; they were fantastic years, but I'd rather leave my high school football phase where it belongs: in high school."

Between Ray's gradual mass-accumulation of undocumented wealth and Sam's exceptional academic record, Sam was able to obtain a 95% scholarship at a research school in Washington, D.C. double-majoring in Mathematics and Philosophy, entering his Freshman year academically as a Sophomore. He found himself surrounded by an entirely different crowd: one composed primarily of WASPs, Jews, and extremely wealthy foreigners. He joined a top-tier fraternity as the "token black kid" and perfected the art of slap cup and drunk brawling through pledging.

After a night of camaraderie and delinquency with some fraternity brothers, their driver ran their Camaro into the divider, sending Sam flying from the passenger's seat and out the front windshield. After a couple flips, Sam was able to catch himself on the concrete far on the opposite shoulder of the road. He landed on all fours, palms and soles planted, no bones broken and completely responsive, however covered in severe lacerations from his burst through the flurry of glass and concrete.

He had sat in a hospital bed for about a week, and to his and every medical professional's astonishment, he quickly regained mobility in all parts of his body. He was able to psychologically block out most of the pain, but he could not ignore the stress he was putting on his torn muscle tissues. Nonetheless, he had his stitches done and he was intent on not spending another dollar on his care there.

Before he left, he was handed a form notifying him of a nation-wide blood test. It detailed the purpose, and after much Googling, Sam felt his stomach sink. He couldn't be entirely positive that he would be "Superhuman", but his physiological abnormalities especially refused to provide him any comfort.

Powers:

+ Perfect balance: He will never fall or physically falter solely from his own movement. His every motion coincides with his own internal coordination.
+ Shock-proof: In terms of stoppable collision, his muscle contractions can successfully compress and absorb a degree of impact. He has never had a concussion from any renegade ball, tackle of the field, or even punch to the face.
+ Heightened spatial awareness: Whether it be through the exactness of his depth perception, auditory detection, or proximity to any point along his nervous system, he can just feel where anything is around him. He has perfect placement when it comes to direct transfer from body to surface. His dexterity and finesse are exemplary, so long as all interactions are immediate to him.

Skills & Weaknesses:

+ Social adaptivity: Throughout his lifetime, Sam has forced himself into new social situations, interacting with different crowds and getting a feel for any desired status he wishes to pursue. He has honed his charisma over time, and become a very positively-viewed character wherever he may appear.
- Slow learner: He may an exceptionally talented pseudo-socialite, but Sam can take quite a bit of time retaining knowledge. He needs constant trial and error when correcting his cognitive ability, as if he were zeroing in until he can pinpoint a target's exact center. He ultimately learns better retroactively, requiring knowledge to sink in and re-emerge when it gains greater relevance to him.
- Addictive personality: Accompanying his thirst for knowledge is an exploration of vices commonly evolving into indulgence. If anyone is a man of his rituals, it's Sam: he requires various routines and familiar mechanisms to keep his sanity. He is an avid drug user, cycling through stimulants and depressants as if they were seasonal. Since coming to college, Sam has also taken up chain-smoking cigarettes, exhibited dominantly in social situations.

Caravan like RP.

I'm interested. Can I still hop on?

Invincible (high-casual) (superhuman)

Interested, as well.

Thief RP (Low-Fantasy)

I'm interested.

Maritime: Washington, D.C.'s Greatest Venue!

Welcome to Maritime: a 5-star restaurant during the day, and the biggest club / bar in Northwestern Washington, D.C!

My current idea revolves around this venue, where hot shots from all over the world come to dine, and big ballers and college kids come to get lucky. Here, officials and criminals meet for business, the pretentious come to show off, and students come in hopes of touching the stars.

Participants can be literally anyone: diplomat, corporate executive, crime lord, wealthy frat star, etc, so long as they frequent Maritime. The entire RP will take place at Maritime: every interaction, every experience, every spoken word.

Clearly, the idea is still in development, but I'm just wondering if anyone would be interested in doing this with me.

[Sentinel State] College Football RP

Back at the Watchtower, Rafa stood behind the bar rolling a spliff. A few of his teammates sat around. Some sat around the tables preparing for the semester, some casually drinking, few at the bar with him. He knew everyone there; each and every one of them were brothers to him. Even with the Freshmen, who he had spoken little to, he felt some sort of fraternal bond just with their position on his team.

He picked up his tacky golden Zippo off the bar and lit his spliff. "Kinda absurd we don't even know who we're playing first." He took a deep drag and tossed his lighter back down. "First game's at the end of the month. I get that we should be ready for anything, but I've never seen this fucking scheduling shit take so long."

Many in the room were only half-listening, which was completely fair. Rafa often spoke his mind at people, rather than actually attempting to make conversation. Everyone seemed to be used to it, and Rafa understood the dynamic during these moments. He'd continue regardless, since there were no apparent problems with Rafa just running his mouth.

He passed the spliff to another at the bar and kept going. "It's whatever, though. Our offense is still solid and these Freshmen are pretty dope." A couple of them were gathered at some of the tables along the edges of the room, tapping away at their laptops. "Better hurry up and get your shit done ASAP, boys. Should've done this shit after that whole orientation and class registration shit." The weed was starting to get to his speech, and his voice was progressively getting less and less hardened.

---

11:00 PM rolled around and the Watchtower was packed. Rafa was only 6 beers deep and already he was getting a bit too touchy with everyone. "Take it all the fuck in, boys. First banger of the season!" He wandered back to his post behind the bar and kicked everyone behind it out onto the main floor. The bar was primarily Rafa's territory during parties, and very few actually had enough of his approval to hang back there with him.

A slim, scantily-clad girl in an Alpha Phi hat approached the bar, but after a couple minutes Rafa shooed her away. He knew what tonight was about, and it wasn't long until he heard one of the upper-classman shout "Freshman Initiation!".

After much shoving and drunken yelling by his teammates, all the Freshmen players were lined-up facing the bar completely naked. Most had semi-shameful looks holding their junk, but some seemed to be embracing the entire situation. A sea of beautiful sorority girls and cheerleaders watched on, most who have already witnessed this event in past years and have somehow come to accept it.

On the other side of the bar, Rafa and some of the upperclassmen lined up face-to-face, matching the Freshman 1-to-1. "This is how it's gonna go, boys. The girls started placing red solo cups in front of each of them and filling them to the brim with beer. "We're going to play some fucking flip-cup. Natty Light is the lifeblood of every frat, but here we just treat it as water," he said as he chugged his cup, motioning for the biddy across from him for a re-fill.

"For every match you guys win, both sides will go down a player, and one of these more than willing girls will bring the lucky scrub at the head of the queue home with her." A few giggles erupted, and some eager chatter, but a drunken Rafa quickly silenced them. "But, for every match you guys lose, you'll also take a shot of this." Rafa pulled out a handle of Zelko from behind the bar, having too much pride to even display it on the shelf.

"If you throw up, you're out, and the rest of your team takes another shot of this shit. You boys ready?"

[Sentinel State] College Football RP

Sorry about my abrupt absence and my quick abandonment for this RP, but would anyone be interested in booting this one up again?

I still enjoy the idea and I'd like to see where this one in particular could go.