ArcanicNeon said
You know the guy in the picture? I'm just wondering, he kind of looks like mark meer.
It's Chester See, a YouTuber. I see the resemblance, though.
DR_TRAPEZOID Member
- Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 487 (0.12 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- DR_TRAPEZOID 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
It's Chester See, a YouTuber. I see the resemblance, though.
Hey, guys! I finally finished my CS, now that I had some time. Damn social life...
BBeast said
We haven't got any Rogue Beings yet. They may come soon, probably in response to your request.
I'm not working on it! Peer pressure!
Viktor stood straight, commanding the attention of his two personal 'ogre' guards. He turned to them, ordering them to leave their post, and instead patrol the halls. He turned to one of the wooden walls, rather shoddily made, in all aspects. After momentarily inspecting the wall, Viktor reached out to the wall, and took a solid hold of one of the looser boards. Taking a moment to brace himself, Viktor began to pull on the board, his rusted body creaking under the pressure. It wasn't long before the wood gave way, splintering at the nails. Viktor looked down at the wooden board, contemplating for a moment.
Turning, he went back to his desk, leaving the bare patch of stone wall. He laid down the board, taking a knife, one the Mayor had kept for emergencies. The small knife was weak, not worthy of being called a weapon. Viktor carefully carved away the wood, creating a few vaguely circular shapes, five to be precise. As he continued to carve, the circles became more solid shapes, symmetrical. As the shapes became crisper, he began to carve two slits in the wood, angled downwards, just wide enough to support vision.
After seemingly hours of work, Viktor raised five masks, carved from smooth wood. He stared at them, satisfied. He then closed the bright orange lights that served as his eyes, concentrating. The sky outside darkened, and thunder rumbled, cracking across the sky. A bright flash of electricity split across the sky as Viktor worked his magic. Surely enough, smoke began to curl up, seeming to fill the solid form of five small humanoid creatures. As skin formed, the imps began to look around, confused as to why they were suspended in the air. As the creatures were completed, they thudded to the floor, in no way prepared for their sudden descent.
The imps made a slight chattering. They stood shorter than most imps, which was not helped by their slouching. They had rough skin, a mellow gray tone, as opposed to the bright red skin of normal imps. Their limbs were short and stocky, sporting large claws and feet, suited for construction and digging, not combat. Their incessant chatter was a strange garble, mixing multiple languages, and talking far too fast to be understood. Their eyes were hidden behind the wooden masks, giving them an unsettling stare.
Viktor stamped his foot to the floor, shaking the imps. "Listen now my children. We have much work ahead of us, so listen well, and waste no time." Said Viktor, an intense, yet still friendly tone, in his voice. "You three" He said, pointing to the three imps farthest right. "I require a quarry. Dig deep and dig well, for I shall require large amounts of stone and steel. I wish to see no sign of you until my halls are overflowing with what I need. Now, you two. Go now, and be fleet. Scout around, find something- anything worthy of populating our army." Viktor said, before turning away from the small creatures. They stood dazed for a moment, until Viktor began to turn his head. Before it turned all the way, they had scuttled away, fear propelling them.
Viktor strolled out into the halls, surveying the area, when something caught his eye. In the hall stood a decorative set of plate armor. "Perfect." He said, taking a hold of the armor, and carting it down to his dungeons heart. "No matter how large it is, an army is useless without a general, and I cannot be bothered with such trifles when I must expand my forces at the same time..." Viktor explained to his ogre guards, who simply grunted back at him, not understanding. Viktor turned away from them, allowing magic to pulsate through his hands, transferring life to the armor.
Turning, he went back to his desk, leaving the bare patch of stone wall. He laid down the board, taking a knife, one the Mayor had kept for emergencies. The small knife was weak, not worthy of being called a weapon. Viktor carefully carved away the wood, creating a few vaguely circular shapes, five to be precise. As he continued to carve, the circles became more solid shapes, symmetrical. As the shapes became crisper, he began to carve two slits in the wood, angled downwards, just wide enough to support vision.
After seemingly hours of work, Viktor raised five masks, carved from smooth wood. He stared at them, satisfied. He then closed the bright orange lights that served as his eyes, concentrating. The sky outside darkened, and thunder rumbled, cracking across the sky. A bright flash of electricity split across the sky as Viktor worked his magic. Surely enough, smoke began to curl up, seeming to fill the solid form of five small humanoid creatures. As skin formed, the imps began to look around, confused as to why they were suspended in the air. As the creatures were completed, they thudded to the floor, in no way prepared for their sudden descent.
The imps made a slight chattering. They stood shorter than most imps, which was not helped by their slouching. They had rough skin, a mellow gray tone, as opposed to the bright red skin of normal imps. Their limbs were short and stocky, sporting large claws and feet, suited for construction and digging, not combat. Their incessant chatter was a strange garble, mixing multiple languages, and talking far too fast to be understood. Their eyes were hidden behind the wooden masks, giving them an unsettling stare.
Viktor stamped his foot to the floor, shaking the imps. "Listen now my children. We have much work ahead of us, so listen well, and waste no time." Said Viktor, an intense, yet still friendly tone, in his voice. "You three" He said, pointing to the three imps farthest right. "I require a quarry. Dig deep and dig well, for I shall require large amounts of stone and steel. I wish to see no sign of you until my halls are overflowing with what I need. Now, you two. Go now, and be fleet. Scout around, find something- anything worthy of populating our army." Viktor said, before turning away from the small creatures. They stood dazed for a moment, until Viktor began to turn his head. Before it turned all the way, they had scuttled away, fear propelling them.
Viktor strolled out into the halls, surveying the area, when something caught his eye. In the hall stood a decorative set of plate armor. "Perfect." He said, taking a hold of the armor, and carting it down to his dungeons heart. "No matter how large it is, an army is useless without a general, and I cannot be bothered with such trifles when I must expand my forces at the same time..." Viktor explained to his ogre guards, who simply grunted back at him, not understanding. Viktor turned away from them, allowing magic to pulsate through his hands, transferring life to the armor.
Name: Jack 'Grease' Heying
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Grease is fairly tall, and lanky. He has some muscle, thanks to his running habits, but he won't be bench pressing insane weights anytime soon.
He tends to wear loose cargo pants, a comfortable pair that doesn't interfere with his running. He dresses plainly, a white t-shirt, topped with a leather jacket. He wears a simple military cap, made of black cloth, nothing fancy, just something for the rain. On his leather jacket is a small pin, a black background, with a hand in a snapping motion inscribed on it.
Side: inFamous
Personality: Grease is condescending, and has a rather short fuse when it comes to just about anything. He has a sick sense of humor, and blatantly abuses his powers, taking advantage of poor civilians.
Biography:
For most of his life, Jack didn't know he was a conduit. For 17 years, he had miraculously managed to avoid coming in any direct contact with asphalt. He didn't drive often, instead he biked around, as it was New York, so the streets weren't a pretty picture. However, Jack and his brother took their biking trips often.
One day, his life changed. While biking, he was knocked over by a man, and that man was in quite a rush to get away from the police. Jack landed in the street with a thud. However, as he attempted to get up, his hands pressed against the warm asphalt, and a miracle happened.
As he got up, yellow light spiraled around his arms and up his legs. He was so awestruck, he didn't notice the speeding semi until the last second. Without much more than a thought, Jack was somehow off of the road. Confused, dazed on the sidewalk, he tried to take a step closer to the sidewalk, only to lurch forward in a supersonic sprint.
After learning to control his powers, he did his best to keep them under wraps, as people weren't too big a fan of BT's back then. However, as time went on, things got better, and Jack didn't have to worry about staying low anymore. He felt good. He felt free.
His first encounter with the Syndicate wasn't exactly fun. Grease was working with a group of other inFamous conduits, who had given him his nickname. However, the Syndicate had made short work of quite a few of his group members. It was terrifying, especially when one of his mates was captured right in front of him. From that day on, he swore hatred towards the Syndicate.
Power: Asphalt
Powers:
Speed: Grease can run at amazing speed, even by Conduit standards. This speed is enhanced even more by being in contact with asphalt. This allows him to run for short amounts of time on bits of tar thrown by his tar shot.
Tar Pit: Grease can melt the asphalt in the roads, good for stopping cars, or less likely- people. It can only be done while in contact with asphalt.
Tar Shot: Grease can, as an extension of tar pit, launch molten tar at foes, effectively slowing/trapping them. He's also told that it hurts.
Pot Holes: As long as he is physically touching the asphalt of a road, he can manipulate it, supposing he focuses enough. This allows him to create road blocks, pillars, etc.
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Grease is fairly tall, and lanky. He has some muscle, thanks to his running habits, but he won't be bench pressing insane weights anytime soon.
He tends to wear loose cargo pants, a comfortable pair that doesn't interfere with his running. He dresses plainly, a white t-shirt, topped with a leather jacket. He wears a simple military cap, made of black cloth, nothing fancy, just something for the rain. On his leather jacket is a small pin, a black background, with a hand in a snapping motion inscribed on it.
Side: inFamous
Personality: Grease is condescending, and has a rather short fuse when it comes to just about anything. He has a sick sense of humor, and blatantly abuses his powers, taking advantage of poor civilians.
Biography:
For most of his life, Jack didn't know he was a conduit. For 17 years, he had miraculously managed to avoid coming in any direct contact with asphalt. He didn't drive often, instead he biked around, as it was New York, so the streets weren't a pretty picture. However, Jack and his brother took their biking trips often.
One day, his life changed. While biking, he was knocked over by a man, and that man was in quite a rush to get away from the police. Jack landed in the street with a thud. However, as he attempted to get up, his hands pressed against the warm asphalt, and a miracle happened.
As he got up, yellow light spiraled around his arms and up his legs. He was so awestruck, he didn't notice the speeding semi until the last second. Without much more than a thought, Jack was somehow off of the road. Confused, dazed on the sidewalk, he tried to take a step closer to the sidewalk, only to lurch forward in a supersonic sprint.
After learning to control his powers, he did his best to keep them under wraps, as people weren't too big a fan of BT's back then. However, as time went on, things got better, and Jack didn't have to worry about staying low anymore. He felt good. He felt free.
His first encounter with the Syndicate wasn't exactly fun. Grease was working with a group of other inFamous conduits, who had given him his nickname. However, the Syndicate had made short work of quite a few of his group members. It was terrifying, especially when one of his mates was captured right in front of him. From that day on, he swore hatred towards the Syndicate.
Power: Asphalt
Powers:
Speed: Grease can run at amazing speed, even by Conduit standards. This speed is enhanced even more by being in contact with asphalt. This allows him to run for short amounts of time on bits of tar thrown by his tar shot.
Tar Pit: Grease can melt the asphalt in the roads, good for stopping cars, or less likely- people. It can only be done while in contact with asphalt.
Tar Shot: Grease can, as an extension of tar pit, launch molten tar at foes, effectively slowing/trapping them. He's also told that it hurts.
Pot Holes: As long as he is physically touching the asphalt of a road, he can manipulate it, supposing he focuses enough. This allows him to create road blocks, pillars, etc.
Is it too late for me to join the party?
I hate to be that one guy who asks waaay too many questions, but I'd rather make mistakes here than the IC.
Is it too early to be making a construct? I thought I might as well make one now, so I will have something to do while I wait for me to finish cooking creatures later on. (I am still working on that RB. All of my ideas end up being too similar to your Keepers)
again, sorry to be 'that one guy'.
Is it too early to be making a construct? I thought I might as well make one now, so I will have something to do while I wait for me to finish cooking creatures later on. (I am still working on that RB. All of my ideas end up being too similar to your Keepers)
again, sorry to be 'that one guy'.
Charlie jerked up into a sitting position, naturally a bit startled. Well, startled is an understatement. He was awestruck, trying to remember... anything. He let himself fall back onto the cold stone floor, running his hand through his hair. "Who... where am I?" He said aloud to himself. His memories began flooding back, the racing, the hospital- the accident. Charlie looked down at his hand, or rather, his lack of such.
Charlie choked back the slight nauseated feeling he got, as he looked back at it. he never really had a chance to come to terms with the fact that a major part of his life was gone. He sighed, staying down for a minute, allowing himself to catch his breath. After taking a minute to himself, to rest, he got up, and looked around the room. He had been awoken by rather annoying alarms, and was a bit put off that they were still going on.
Sighing, he stepped over to the metal blast door that was feebly trying to seal him in. The mechanisms in the shiny door whirred, as it slowly opened and closed. The door was almost ripped off of the wall, hanging loosely, but still blocking any easy escape. Disgruntled, he looked into the shiny metal surface. The door was surprisingly reflective, and allowed him to see himself, check the damage.
At first glance, he seemed alright. He was wearing his white t-shirt, and usual cargo pants. His beard was a bit larger than he usually kept it trimmed, but not crazily large. However, peering closer, he noticed the intricate lining of his tattoo. He was a bit startled. "Where did that come from?" He asked himself. He looked closer, discovering that it spiraled up his arm, and onto his torso. He gave a disheartened grunt, he hated the culture of tattoos.
Charlie cracked his knuckles, wasting no more time. He reached for a gap in the door, and began to pull as hard as he could, attempting to pry the steel away. It was to no avail. As he shifted his hand to obtain a better grip, he let out a quick sharp breath, as he cut his one good hand on a jagged piece of metal. He stepped back, clutching his wrist, before he began to put pressure on the cut. However, he was unable to stem the flow before a great deal scattered across the floor.
"Oh god, please don't give me tetanus." He said out loud, almost in a panicked voice. In the heat of the moment, he didn't notice the faint glow in his tattoo, or his blood. As he let go of his wrist, he looked down at his other missing hand. It had a strange tingling sensation, and he began to gain more feeling in it than the phantom pains that he usually got. Suddenly he noticed it. The large glowing hand was rather prominent, spreading it's warm yellow glow through the small room.
He jumped back, raising his arms in defense. He was extremely surprised to see that the arm moved with him.
"What... the... hell..."
He said to himself, moving his hand around, flexing it. The glowing yellow hand mimicked his movements perfectly, other than it staying anchored in the ground. "I could get used to this..." He muttered, before flexing out his arm, making his new 'friend' grab a hold of the door. Charlie strained, pulling with all of his might, until the door finally gave way, and cracked off of the wall completely, slamming down into the hallway, with a lot of noise.
Now that that arduous task was out of the way, Charlie took this opportunity to step closer to the hand, and examine it. As he studied it, he subconciously let his actual arm slide down into a resting position at his side. Before Charlie could do anything about it, the hand flickered away. "No! Come back!" He said futilely. "Damn... he muttered, as it was quite obviously gone. He stepped out into the hall, ignoring the sharp pains shooting up his empty wrist.
Charlie took in his surroundings rather quickly. Deciding that there was not immediate danger, he stepped up to the glowing placard on the wall, to get a better look. "This can't be right..." He said, reading the information. It was all correct, but he could not believe that this was actually happening. It had to be some kind of joke. Without any hesitation, he turned to the dim halls, calling out. "Hello? Is anyone here? Does anyone know what's going on?"
Charlie choked back the slight nauseated feeling he got, as he looked back at it. he never really had a chance to come to terms with the fact that a major part of his life was gone. He sighed, staying down for a minute, allowing himself to catch his breath. After taking a minute to himself, to rest, he got up, and looked around the room. He had been awoken by rather annoying alarms, and was a bit put off that they were still going on.
Sighing, he stepped over to the metal blast door that was feebly trying to seal him in. The mechanisms in the shiny door whirred, as it slowly opened and closed. The door was almost ripped off of the wall, hanging loosely, but still blocking any easy escape. Disgruntled, he looked into the shiny metal surface. The door was surprisingly reflective, and allowed him to see himself, check the damage.
At first glance, he seemed alright. He was wearing his white t-shirt, and usual cargo pants. His beard was a bit larger than he usually kept it trimmed, but not crazily large. However, peering closer, he noticed the intricate lining of his tattoo. He was a bit startled. "Where did that come from?" He asked himself. He looked closer, discovering that it spiraled up his arm, and onto his torso. He gave a disheartened grunt, he hated the culture of tattoos.
Charlie cracked his knuckles, wasting no more time. He reached for a gap in the door, and began to pull as hard as he could, attempting to pry the steel away. It was to no avail. As he shifted his hand to obtain a better grip, he let out a quick sharp breath, as he cut his one good hand on a jagged piece of metal. He stepped back, clutching his wrist, before he began to put pressure on the cut. However, he was unable to stem the flow before a great deal scattered across the floor.
"Oh god, please don't give me tetanus." He said out loud, almost in a panicked voice. In the heat of the moment, he didn't notice the faint glow in his tattoo, or his blood. As he let go of his wrist, he looked down at his other missing hand. It had a strange tingling sensation, and he began to gain more feeling in it than the phantom pains that he usually got. Suddenly he noticed it. The large glowing hand was rather prominent, spreading it's warm yellow glow through the small room.
He jumped back, raising his arms in defense. He was extremely surprised to see that the arm moved with him.
"What... the... hell..."
He said to himself, moving his hand around, flexing it. The glowing yellow hand mimicked his movements perfectly, other than it staying anchored in the ground. "I could get used to this..." He muttered, before flexing out his arm, making his new 'friend' grab a hold of the door. Charlie strained, pulling with all of his might, until the door finally gave way, and cracked off of the wall completely, slamming down into the hallway, with a lot of noise.
Now that that arduous task was out of the way, Charlie took this opportunity to step closer to the hand, and examine it. As he studied it, he subconciously let his actual arm slide down into a resting position at his side. Before Charlie could do anything about it, the hand flickered away. "No! Come back!" He said futilely. "Damn... he muttered, as it was quite obviously gone. He stepped out into the hall, ignoring the sharp pains shooting up his empty wrist.
Charlie took in his surroundings rather quickly. Deciding that there was not immediate danger, he stepped up to the glowing placard on the wall, to get a better look. "This can't be right..." He said, reading the information. It was all correct, but he could not believe that this was actually happening. It had to be some kind of joke. Without any hesitation, he turned to the dim halls, calling out. "Hello? Is anyone here? Does anyone know what's going on?"
I'll just bump this, since the Guilds siesta is over.
Yeah, okay. Makes sense.
© 2007-2025