Dragonruby Member
Putting the Danger in Stranger Danger
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- Dragonruby 11 yrs ago
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Adi's going to be busy
Character sheet
Name: Warren Shatter
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Age: 15
Nationality: American
Bio: While NERV may just be Earth's best and brightest option in combating the Angelic threat, they are far from the only organization working to save all of humanity, with one notable example being Japan's Jet Alone project. Durandal was one such organization. A military contractor based within the United States, Durandal worked to develop a weapon to fight Angels. Whether simply by coincidence or on purpose, Durandal seemed to follow a number of NERV's methods. They gathered and trained a group of orphaned children as soldiers, dubbed the Paladin Project, and they also attempted to work on a mind-machine interface, in order to more smoothly control the machines they hoped to design.
Warren himself was a product of the Paladin Project. Born during the early years of the after effects of Second Impact, times were hard for young Warren's parents. Lack of proper medical treatment mean that his mother would die during childbirth, and his father, a doctor with a limp who looked ten years older than he truly, was killed when a field hospital for soldiers he had volunteered to work at was shelled. Warren has managed to keep his father's old cane, a simple thing made of mahogany and ripped with steel, along with a number of his medical texts which he will occasionally browse through. Shortly afterwards, Warren was picked up by Durandal, where he trained as one of its many Paladin Initiates. Overall, he scored average in the simulated combat tests, and since Durandal could truly only ever use a small fraction of its Initiates when full production of their designed weapon platform happened, Warren was deemed expendable enough to be used as a guinea pig for some of Durandal's mind-machine interface prototypes. These prototypes were flawed, however, and most of the experiment's test subjects died, with survivors suffering from brain hemorrhaging, accompanied by blood flowing from eyes, ears, and nose, as well as excruciating headaches. The condition was soon dubbed 'Novack Syndrome', after its first victim. Medication was quickly developed for the survivors, and it did a decent job of suppressing the condition's nasty, and rather fatal, effects. Even with the medication, however, the project's victims still suffered. Occasional migraines and bloody noses would plague all who survived, and sufficient trauma, either physical or mental, could bring on an even more serious bout of bleeding.
Soon afterwards, Warren was found to be synch positive by NERV, and rather quickly spirited away, after a few deals between the two organizations of course. Warren, however, faced some measure of discrimination during his time with NERV, largely due to the fact that he was trained to as a Paladin rather than one of NERV's own Neospartans, and despite the fact that Warren held no personal loyalty whatsoever to Durandal, he was still considered a security risk, and many of his personal freedoms were limited. He now finds himself headed to Japan, in order to reinforce a failing defense by an organization he doesn't fully trust.
Personality: Warren keeps people at a distance, emotionally if not physically. He has no personal qualms about interacting with other people or his fellow pilots, but he distances himself mentally. Many of his remarks are sarcastic in nature, and he often deflects questions about himself with such words. His suffered 'prejudice' from NERV has also left him rather cynical, and a little questioning of NERV as a whole, but despite this, he remains a loyal and efficient pilot. While he may dislike his current employers, he has been trained since childhood to be a defender of mankind, and so he would do it, if only because he knew nothing else. As far as hobbies go, Warren is a fan of card games and card tricks. Paladin Initiates weren't ever afforded much luxury or comfort, but one of the few ways they had to let off steam was through gambling on games of chance, often betting things such as rations, or watch shifts, and whatever other small luxuries could be found around like chocolate and books.
Eva unit number and description: Unit 09 is a so called 'Surplus Unit'. Evangelions are undeniably powerful, and remarkably few in numbers. This isn't for lack of trying, of course. There are many ways for the production of an Evangelion to fail. Genetic flaws, faulty construction methods, or even sabotage have ended a large number of prospective Evangelions. Many of these failed Units are simply left to rot or used as spare parts, and the Surplus Unit production line seeks to remedy this by purchasing and gathering all these many failed Units and combining them into one whole and working Evangelion.
Unit 09 is the first Surplus Unit produced, and it is a veritable Frankenstein's monster. While efforts have been taken to standardize its various mismatched parts, there are a number of obvious features that point towards its fractured origins. The most obvious sign is its head, where it only has one eye, the other being covered by armor plate. The original Evangelion's eye never fully developed, and thus its eye socket was instead cleared out and filled with sensor equipment that did essentially the same job. And while the Unit has been covered with a coat of new paint, colored black and gray, underneath it is plain to see just where this Unit came from. The armor plating of its various limbs and body parts are almost all completely different, from varying projects and marks. For example, its left arm is lined with a number of reactive charges, an old attempt at better armoring the Evangelions that was eventually scrapped, while the armor plating on its torso is designed to run millions of volts of electricity in order to act as a deterrent against Angelic blows, another failed project that died along with the original Evangelion. All of these things combined make Unit 09 a living hell to work with for the various engineers and mechanics in charge of maintaining it, and it is likely to face even more standardization as damages force more modern replacement parts to be installed. For now though, it is entirely unique, the only one of its kind.
Name: Warren Shatter
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Age: 15
Nationality: American
Bio: While NERV may just be Earth's best and brightest option in combating the Angelic threat, they are far from the only organization working to save all of humanity, with one notable example being Japan's Jet Alone project. Durandal was one such organization. A military contractor based within the United States, Durandal worked to develop a weapon to fight Angels. Whether simply by coincidence or on purpose, Durandal seemed to follow a number of NERV's methods. They gathered and trained a group of orphaned children as soldiers, dubbed the Paladin Project, and they also attempted to work on a mind-machine interface, in order to more smoothly control the machines they hoped to design.
Warren himself was a product of the Paladin Project. Born during the early years of the after effects of Second Impact, times were hard for young Warren's parents. Lack of proper medical treatment mean that his mother would die during childbirth, and his father, a doctor with a limp who looked ten years older than he truly, was killed when a field hospital for soldiers he had volunteered to work at was shelled. Warren has managed to keep his father's old cane, a simple thing made of mahogany and ripped with steel, along with a number of his medical texts which he will occasionally browse through. Shortly afterwards, Warren was picked up by Durandal, where he trained as one of its many Paladin Initiates. Overall, he scored average in the simulated combat tests, and since Durandal could truly only ever use a small fraction of its Initiates when full production of their designed weapon platform happened, Warren was deemed expendable enough to be used as a guinea pig for some of Durandal's mind-machine interface prototypes. These prototypes were flawed, however, and most of the experiment's test subjects died, with survivors suffering from brain hemorrhaging, accompanied by blood flowing from eyes, ears, and nose, as well as excruciating headaches. The condition was soon dubbed 'Novack Syndrome', after its first victim. Medication was quickly developed for the survivors, and it did a decent job of suppressing the condition's nasty, and rather fatal, effects. Even with the medication, however, the project's victims still suffered. Occasional migraines and bloody noses would plague all who survived, and sufficient trauma, either physical or mental, could bring on an even more serious bout of bleeding.
Soon afterwards, Warren was found to be synch positive by NERV, and rather quickly spirited away, after a few deals between the two organizations of course. Warren, however, faced some measure of discrimination during his time with NERV, largely due to the fact that he was trained to as a Paladin rather than one of NERV's own Neospartans, and despite the fact that Warren held no personal loyalty whatsoever to Durandal, he was still considered a security risk, and many of his personal freedoms were limited. He now finds himself headed to Japan, in order to reinforce a failing defense by an organization he doesn't fully trust.
Personality: Warren keeps people at a distance, emotionally if not physically. He has no personal qualms about interacting with other people or his fellow pilots, but he distances himself mentally. Many of his remarks are sarcastic in nature, and he often deflects questions about himself with such words. His suffered 'prejudice' from NERV has also left him rather cynical, and a little questioning of NERV as a whole, but despite this, he remains a loyal and efficient pilot. While he may dislike his current employers, he has been trained since childhood to be a defender of mankind, and so he would do it, if only because he knew nothing else. As far as hobbies go, Warren is a fan of card games and card tricks. Paladin Initiates weren't ever afforded much luxury or comfort, but one of the few ways they had to let off steam was through gambling on games of chance, often betting things such as rations, or watch shifts, and whatever other small luxuries could be found around like chocolate and books.
Eva unit number and description: Unit 09 is a so called 'Surplus Unit'. Evangelions are undeniably powerful, and remarkably few in numbers. This isn't for lack of trying, of course. There are many ways for the production of an Evangelion to fail. Genetic flaws, faulty construction methods, or even sabotage have ended a large number of prospective Evangelions. Many of these failed Units are simply left to rot or used as spare parts, and the Surplus Unit production line seeks to remedy this by purchasing and gathering all these many failed Units and combining them into one whole and working Evangelion.
Unit 09 is the first Surplus Unit produced, and it is a veritable Frankenstein's monster. While efforts have been taken to standardize its various mismatched parts, there are a number of obvious features that point towards its fractured origins. The most obvious sign is its head, where it only has one eye, the other being covered by armor plate. The original Evangelion's eye never fully developed, and thus its eye socket was instead cleared out and filled with sensor equipment that did essentially the same job. And while the Unit has been covered with a coat of new paint, colored black and gray, underneath it is plain to see just where this Unit came from. The armor plating of its various limbs and body parts are almost all completely different, from varying projects and marks. For example, its left arm is lined with a number of reactive charges, an old attempt at better armoring the Evangelions that was eventually scrapped, while the armor plating on its torso is designed to run millions of volts of electricity in order to act as a deterrent against Angelic blows, another failed project that died along with the original Evangelion. All of these things combined make Unit 09 a living hell to work with for the various engineers and mechanics in charge of maintaining it, and it is likely to face even more standardization as damages force more modern replacement parts to be installed. For now though, it is entirely unique, the only one of its kind.
Seems pretty interesting if you can manage to pull it off
Atellus tilted his head somewhat as they approached the Chimera. He knew what it was, and he'd seen them enough times to recognize one, but... He'd never actually been in one before. He clambered in, taking a seat by a corner near the door with his lasrifle set besides him, and surveyed his new surroundings. It was cramped, he decided. He had always been more used to wide and open spaces, grand halls, filled with flamboyant decorations. The captain always did have a taste for the more extravagant things in life, and any shuttle he'd been in was much roomier than this, unless they were filled to the brim for some emergency action of course, but that was something that seemed to rarely happen.
He turned his head down, hiding the fact that he was glancing at everyone from under the visor of his helmet as he quietly listened along to the conversation, noting the subtle. glances to and fro by the other members of the Inquisitor's retinue. It seemed quite a number of looks were being thrown the Interrogator's way, but he supposed that wasn't too strange. She was a member of the Inquisition, though Atellus wondered why the same wasn't done towards Inquisitor Xersus. Possibly because of his higher rank? People were afraid to even catch his eye perhaps?
Several conversations seemed to be starting up at the moment. Christus seemed to be starting up some sort of group prayer, as the Magos started a conversation with the Psyker about his experience in the Guard. Meanwhile, another conversation had started up on the subject of a some hive gang who might have some information on the Navigator that they were currently seeking. Atellus supposed he should be unsurprised that crime was an issue here... He'd dealt with his own fair share of gangs before too. He kept his thoughts to himself though, staying silent, largely unwilling to speak with so many other strangers who were already talking amongst each other.
In order to quietly pass the time, Atellus drew his knife and glanced over the designs on both sides of the blade. The blade itself was pitch black, dark as the night, with a number of small, silver, engravings littering both sides of the blade... Stars. He ran a finger over the flat of it, feeling the tiny dips in the metal from the engravings.
He turned his head down, hiding the fact that he was glancing at everyone from under the visor of his helmet as he quietly listened along to the conversation, noting the subtle. glances to and fro by the other members of the Inquisitor's retinue. It seemed quite a number of looks were being thrown the Interrogator's way, but he supposed that wasn't too strange. She was a member of the Inquisition, though Atellus wondered why the same wasn't done towards Inquisitor Xersus. Possibly because of his higher rank? People were afraid to even catch his eye perhaps?
Several conversations seemed to be starting up at the moment. Christus seemed to be starting up some sort of group prayer, as the Magos started a conversation with the Psyker about his experience in the Guard. Meanwhile, another conversation had started up on the subject of a some hive gang who might have some information on the Navigator that they were currently seeking. Atellus supposed he should be unsurprised that crime was an issue here... He'd dealt with his own fair share of gangs before too. He kept his thoughts to himself though, staying silent, largely unwilling to speak with so many other strangers who were already talking amongst each other.
In order to quietly pass the time, Atellus drew his knife and glanced over the designs on both sides of the blade. The blade itself was pitch black, dark as the night, with a number of small, silver, engravings littering both sides of the blade... Stars. He ran a finger over the flat of it, feeling the tiny dips in the metal from the engravings.
In
Hunters and Tamers and Students OH MY. (Supernatural academy)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Apologies for the lateness, had something pop up. I'll get a post up by today.
Atellus watched, from the corner of his eye as he kept his head straight forward, as people he assumed to be other members of the retinue enter. First came a priest of of the ecclesiarchy, introducing himself as a Confessor named Ignacius Christus. An older man than Atellus, looking somewhat grizzled and dressed in the robes that one would expect a man of the faith to be wearing. He was in the middle of idly guessing Ignacius' true age when a subtle sense of 'wrongness' washed over him, forcing Atellus to stand straighter as he tried to figure out its source. Whatever it was, it was different than the same feeling that Atellus picked off psykers.
As a voidborn, Atellus spent his entire childhood, hell, nearly all of his life, aboard a spacefaring vessel, and a decent amount of that time aboard was spent in warp transit. Perhaps it was because of this that Atellus had always found himself a little more sensitive to the more subtle aspects of the warp, compared to most planetbound imperial citizens, and while he was by no means a psyker, he had always found that he could pick up on certain 'feelings' and 'auras' such that seemed to follow most psykers around. And as such, Atellus felt it rather distinctly when the feeling of wrongness from earlier seemed to smother the room, quashing the psychic presence that was present in the room earlier, and seemingly foretelling the arrival of another member of the Inquisition, an Interrogator, Atellus would learn a few moments later. The sudden shock of this feeling actually forced Atellus' head to snap towards the woman, staring at her as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.
Next would come a tech-priest, introducing himself as a Magos of all things, followed by a member of the Imperial Guard, although the medical jacket the man wore over his armor either hinted at some form of eccentricity or a medical background of some kind. The last two to enter were more members of the ecclesiarchy, rather puritanical hardliners if their manner of speech was any measure of character, and their gear gave off a few rather heavy hints of it too. Atellus then started as an assassin dropped down from above, taking place besides the Inquisitor, obviously ready for hostile actions, with her hands on her weapons like that, and Atellus bristled slightly, getting more and more nervous at the situation he found himself in. He had stuck himself into a hell of a bad place to be, it seemed, stuck into a group with a Magos, an assassin, and two sadistic looking women who would probably be willing to tear him to shreds at the slightest sign of heresy, if the Interrogator and the Inquisitor weren't willing to already. The others, Atellus could handle well enough, seeming like normal enough people, but these people... These were people in high places, capable of killing him with ease and likely capable of doing it without even getting a slap on the wrist. He found himself questioning if he was needed here in the first place.
He did his best to turn his attention to the Inquisitor as introductions were done and the briefing was stared, Atellus visibly trying to relax as he lowered his rifle to point at the floor, though he was still rather stiff due to his nervousness. He learned that they were after a Navigator, a powerful psyker to be sure. Atellus had done some time guarding the hallways leading up to the Navigator's station, as well as their rooms, both of which were rather unpopular amongst the other armsmen, and so he knew a little bit about them. The most memorable thing about them he had learned was that they were capable of seeing the Astronomican, the literal Light of the Emperor, his presence within the warp. He wondered how someone capable of seeing such a thing was capable of turning to Chaos themselves...
He shook his head of such thoughts, turning back to look at the Inquisitor as he asked for questions. "If you'd pardon my intrusion, Inquisitor... What brings Astradas here of all places? Is he simply following the warband around? And if so, why? If he has knowledge of such an artifact, surely the man would be chasing it down."
As a voidborn, Atellus spent his entire childhood, hell, nearly all of his life, aboard a spacefaring vessel, and a decent amount of that time aboard was spent in warp transit. Perhaps it was because of this that Atellus had always found himself a little more sensitive to the more subtle aspects of the warp, compared to most planetbound imperial citizens, and while he was by no means a psyker, he had always found that he could pick up on certain 'feelings' and 'auras' such that seemed to follow most psykers around. And as such, Atellus felt it rather distinctly when the feeling of wrongness from earlier seemed to smother the room, quashing the psychic presence that was present in the room earlier, and seemingly foretelling the arrival of another member of the Inquisition, an Interrogator, Atellus would learn a few moments later. The sudden shock of this feeling actually forced Atellus' head to snap towards the woman, staring at her as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.
Next would come a tech-priest, introducing himself as a Magos of all things, followed by a member of the Imperial Guard, although the medical jacket the man wore over his armor either hinted at some form of eccentricity or a medical background of some kind. The last two to enter were more members of the ecclesiarchy, rather puritanical hardliners if their manner of speech was any measure of character, and their gear gave off a few rather heavy hints of it too. Atellus then started as an assassin dropped down from above, taking place besides the Inquisitor, obviously ready for hostile actions, with her hands on her weapons like that, and Atellus bristled slightly, getting more and more nervous at the situation he found himself in. He had stuck himself into a hell of a bad place to be, it seemed, stuck into a group with a Magos, an assassin, and two sadistic looking women who would probably be willing to tear him to shreds at the slightest sign of heresy, if the Interrogator and the Inquisitor weren't willing to already. The others, Atellus could handle well enough, seeming like normal enough people, but these people... These were people in high places, capable of killing him with ease and likely capable of doing it without even getting a slap on the wrist. He found himself questioning if he was needed here in the first place.
He did his best to turn his attention to the Inquisitor as introductions were done and the briefing was stared, Atellus visibly trying to relax as he lowered his rifle to point at the floor, though he was still rather stiff due to his nervousness. He learned that they were after a Navigator, a powerful psyker to be sure. Atellus had done some time guarding the hallways leading up to the Navigator's station, as well as their rooms, both of which were rather unpopular amongst the other armsmen, and so he knew a little bit about them. The most memorable thing about them he had learned was that they were capable of seeing the Astronomican, the literal Light of the Emperor, his presence within the warp. He wondered how someone capable of seeing such a thing was capable of turning to Chaos themselves...
He shook his head of such thoughts, turning back to look at the Inquisitor as he asked for questions. "If you'd pardon my intrusion, Inquisitor... What brings Astradas here of all places? Is he simply following the warband around? And if so, why? If he has knowledge of such an artifact, surely the man would be chasing it down."
In
Hunters and Tamers and Students OH MY. (Supernatural academy)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Andrew gave a wary glance from around the corner of the building, looking for any sign of his uncle out in the school courtyard. He had managed to avoid the man for the last day or so, using the fact that Uncle Lionel actually had a job as a teacher here in order to move get around from place to place, and hiding in places he wouldn't think of. The magic lessons Andrew's uncle had been giving him were slowly getting worse and worse. As the lessons designed for beginners did little to help Andrew further his magical talent over the past year, his uncle seemed convinced that putting Andrew under pressure would help 'unlock his hidden potential' or something like that. 'Putting him under pressure', seemed to involve throwing him into life threatening situations, which is something he'd like avoid if at all possible. Honestly, Andrew had no idea why Uncle Lionel didn't just give up on him. He figured that it was possibly because Lionel hated being wrong, couldn't bear to believe that Andrew wasn't going to be the next super-mega-wizard-archmage, or whatever the hell the man seemed to think he had the magical talent for, but that was all just guesswork on Andrew's part.
Seeing that the way was all clear, Andrew gave a quiet sigh of relief and began to make his way off campus. Of course, the familiar voice of his uncle calling out from off to the side showed that it was, in fact, not clear at all. "And just where do you think you're going, young man?"
Andrew cringed, and turned around slowly to face Lionel. If he had to describe Lionel in only a few words, they'd be 'stereotypical fantasy wizard', if a stereotypical fantasy wizard liked to wear a gray suit instead of a robe and pointed wizard's hat. With a long mane of silver hair that really didn't look like something that someone with whitening hair should be growing, and a wispy beard to match, if you threw Lionel into a bathrobe, he might've been easily mistaken for Gandalf the Grey. Hell, Andrew wasn't actually too sure how old Uncle Lionel was, but last he heard, the man shouldn't have been old enough to have just about every hair on his body be white. Maybe he dyed it or something. Andrew wouldn't put it past the man. He gave a sigh, and greeted Lionel. "Heeeeey there, uncle... I'm, just uh... You know... Headed to my college class? They started a while back, remember?"
"College?" was the curt and eloquent response his uncle gave back, paired with a bit of a blank and confused look on his face.
"Yea... You know... College? A place of higher learning? That thing I've been going to ever since I got out of high school for like, a year now?" Andrew asked back, unbelieving that the man could not know what college was.
"Ohhh, right! That thing!" Lionel said, quickly dismissing the topic. "Ahhh, forget about that! We have things to teach you!"
"No, no, no, no, look I gotta make it to class and-"
"Alright, that's enough out of you, Andrew!" Lionel quickly says, cutting him off. Then with a wave of his hands, Andrew soon found himself slowly slipping off the ground, floating up a few feet. "Come on! We've got magic to do!" Lionel cried out as he walked off back towards the main school building.
Andrew tried to struggle, 'tried' being the keyword, flailing his limbs as he slowly floated along behind him. In desperation, he pulled out his staff, expanding it to its full length and stabbing it into the ground, hoping to root himself there, though all he ended up doing was dig up the dirty and grass in a line behind him. "Dammit, uncle! I have a test today!"
"Damn right, you do!" Andrew's uncle said triumphantly, uncaring about Andrew's plight. "Today, we're seeing how much you remember about defensive spells! Come on, I've got a whole range set up for us today! The students'll be testing out their aim, and you're the target!"
Seeing that the way was all clear, Andrew gave a quiet sigh of relief and began to make his way off campus. Of course, the familiar voice of his uncle calling out from off to the side showed that it was, in fact, not clear at all. "And just where do you think you're going, young man?"
Andrew cringed, and turned around slowly to face Lionel. If he had to describe Lionel in only a few words, they'd be 'stereotypical fantasy wizard', if a stereotypical fantasy wizard liked to wear a gray suit instead of a robe and pointed wizard's hat. With a long mane of silver hair that really didn't look like something that someone with whitening hair should be growing, and a wispy beard to match, if you threw Lionel into a bathrobe, he might've been easily mistaken for Gandalf the Grey. Hell, Andrew wasn't actually too sure how old Uncle Lionel was, but last he heard, the man shouldn't have been old enough to have just about every hair on his body be white. Maybe he dyed it or something. Andrew wouldn't put it past the man. He gave a sigh, and greeted Lionel. "Heeeeey there, uncle... I'm, just uh... You know... Headed to my college class? They started a while back, remember?"
"College?" was the curt and eloquent response his uncle gave back, paired with a bit of a blank and confused look on his face.
"Yea... You know... College? A place of higher learning? That thing I've been going to ever since I got out of high school for like, a year now?" Andrew asked back, unbelieving that the man could not know what college was.
"Ohhh, right! That thing!" Lionel said, quickly dismissing the topic. "Ahhh, forget about that! We have things to teach you!"
"No, no, no, no, look I gotta make it to class and-"
"Alright, that's enough out of you, Andrew!" Lionel quickly says, cutting him off. Then with a wave of his hands, Andrew soon found himself slowly slipping off the ground, floating up a few feet. "Come on! We've got magic to do!" Lionel cried out as he walked off back towards the main school building.
Andrew tried to struggle, 'tried' being the keyword, flailing his limbs as he slowly floated along behind him. In desperation, he pulled out his staff, expanding it to its full length and stabbing it into the ground, hoping to root himself there, though all he ended up doing was dig up the dirty and grass in a line behind him. "Dammit, uncle! I have a test today!"
"Damn right, you do!" Andrew's uncle said triumphantly, uncaring about Andrew's plight. "Today, we're seeing how much you remember about defensive spells! Come on, I've got a whole range set up for us today! The students'll be testing out their aim, and you're the target!"
Atellus nervously stalked his way through the bunker, making for the room he had been ordered to meet his new employer, Inquisitor Xersus in. There was a number of reasons as to why he was nervous. First and foremost, was that he was meeting an Inquisitor personally. He remembered, a number of years back, when an independent team of Inquisitorial acolytes rode aboard The Baleful Beacon to be dropped off at some hive world or another as a favor to a friend of the Captain's. A number of his fellow crew mates did their best to avoid the acolytes, lest they be charged with some sort of heresy, and now here he was going to meet an actual Inquisitor. The artillery fire didn't help much at all, either, and he did his best to liken both the shaking and the sounds to the firing of a macrocannon, though it didn't work very well, as he still felt as if there were insects crawling around in his stomach.
A small part of Atellus wished to delay the meeting a little, so that he could calm his nerves, but another part of him told him that keeping an Inquisitor waiting was probably not the best idea. As he approached the door to the designated room, Atellus very quickly double checked that all his gear was on him. His lasrifle was slung over his shoulder by a strap, his baton was by his side in a small holster, and his keepsake knife was strapped to his right thigh. He quickly adjusted one of his gauntlets, and knocked on the top of his helmet, more for good luck than any kind of equipment check, and took a deep breathe before entering the room.
Stepping inside, Atellus quickly surveyed the room, noting that it was somewhat similar to the bridge of The Baleful Beacon, albeit, much less flashy and without a view to the void beyond. There were two other men already in the room, one was rather obviously the Inquisitor, dressed in power armor, with the 'I' of the Inquisition emblazoned upon it. The other, he judged to be a psyker, not only by the subtle feeling of strangeness that all psykers gave off, but also by his robes and the staff the man carried.
Atellus was a little unsure of what to do, and so went with what was familiar, stepping besides the door, he unslung the rifle from his shoulders and cradled it in his hands, assuming a guard position, standing still and straight, likening the room to the bridge of a ship, and the door as his post.
A small part of Atellus wished to delay the meeting a little, so that he could calm his nerves, but another part of him told him that keeping an Inquisitor waiting was probably not the best idea. As he approached the door to the designated room, Atellus very quickly double checked that all his gear was on him. His lasrifle was slung over his shoulder by a strap, his baton was by his side in a small holster, and his keepsake knife was strapped to his right thigh. He quickly adjusted one of his gauntlets, and knocked on the top of his helmet, more for good luck than any kind of equipment check, and took a deep breathe before entering the room.
Stepping inside, Atellus quickly surveyed the room, noting that it was somewhat similar to the bridge of The Baleful Beacon, albeit, much less flashy and without a view to the void beyond. There were two other men already in the room, one was rather obviously the Inquisitor, dressed in power armor, with the 'I' of the Inquisition emblazoned upon it. The other, he judged to be a psyker, not only by the subtle feeling of strangeness that all psykers gave off, but also by his robes and the staff the man carried.
Atellus was a little unsure of what to do, and so went with what was familiar, stepping besides the door, he unslung the rifle from his shoulders and cradled it in his hands, assuming a guard position, standing still and straight, likening the room to the bridge of a ship, and the door as his post.
In
Hunters and Tamers and Students OH MY. (Supernatural academy)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Appearance:
Name: Andrew Cross
Age: 19
Weight/height: 5'11", 152lbs
Race: Human
Powers: Andrew is, according to his uncle, capable of great and eldritch powers, capable of calling down fire and lightning from the skies, bending demons to his will, and creating masterful illusions. The reality of Andrew's powers is quite different. Rather than firestorms, Andrew is only capable of creating a small flame, suitable for lightning candles and cigarettes, instead of lightning strikes, all he can summon up is a small crackle of electricity, only capable of creating a light 'zap' and making people jump a bit from a little bit of a surprise shock. At best, Andrew is capable of a variety of magical 'party tricks', the creation of floating lights, faking and displacing sounds, the creation light breezes, and other such paltry skills.
Weapons: An extendable, six foot long, steel staff that is capable of collapsing into roughly a foot in length, carried in a small holster on his belt. The staff is covered in etched runes and markings, supposedly to aid in spellcasting, but, in all honestly, they really don't feel like they help at all to Andrew. He's found a better use for it by beating people over the head with it, or poking at things that are out of reach.
Personality: Andrew is a rather blunt and expressive person. He is quick to feel and express him emotions, whether it be anger, joy, or sadness, and he shows it without much care for what others think. If his words would offend someone, so be it. In the same vein, he is quick to forgive and forget. It is quite possible that he only acts out due to a small part of him enjoying the theatrics.
History: Andrew, for most of his life, lived as a rather average person. In fact, in all honesty, it was all all a little too average for Andrew, as he often found himself wishing for excitement. His life changed when, at the age of seventeen, he met his rather eccentric uncle, a man by the name of Lionel. It was upon their meeting that Lionel deemed Andrew to be a magical prodigy, someone who would eventually be capable of great feats, and took it unto himself to tutor young Andrew in the ways of magic, taking Andrew with him to Londro upon his graduation from high school. Andrew has spent his last year as Lionel's personal apprentice, floundering, which sorely cuts into his time as a college student at a nearby university.
Lionel himself is a teacher at Londro, being a self-proclaimed Time Wizard. While he has never quite proven this claim, it cannot be doubted that the man is extremely capable, being able to throw around large numbers of powerful spells as if they were nothing.
Name: Andrew Cross
Age: 19
Weight/height: 5'11", 152lbs
Race: Human
Powers: Andrew is, according to his uncle, capable of great and eldritch powers, capable of calling down fire and lightning from the skies, bending demons to his will, and creating masterful illusions. The reality of Andrew's powers is quite different. Rather than firestorms, Andrew is only capable of creating a small flame, suitable for lightning candles and cigarettes, instead of lightning strikes, all he can summon up is a small crackle of electricity, only capable of creating a light 'zap' and making people jump a bit from a little bit of a surprise shock. At best, Andrew is capable of a variety of magical 'party tricks', the creation of floating lights, faking and displacing sounds, the creation light breezes, and other such paltry skills.
Weapons: An extendable, six foot long, steel staff that is capable of collapsing into roughly a foot in length, carried in a small holster on his belt. The staff is covered in etched runes and markings, supposedly to aid in spellcasting, but, in all honestly, they really don't feel like they help at all to Andrew. He's found a better use for it by beating people over the head with it, or poking at things that are out of reach.
Personality: Andrew is a rather blunt and expressive person. He is quick to feel and express him emotions, whether it be anger, joy, or sadness, and he shows it without much care for what others think. If his words would offend someone, so be it. In the same vein, he is quick to forgive and forget. It is quite possible that he only acts out due to a small part of him enjoying the theatrics.
History: Andrew, for most of his life, lived as a rather average person. In fact, in all honesty, it was all all a little too average for Andrew, as he often found himself wishing for excitement. His life changed when, at the age of seventeen, he met his rather eccentric uncle, a man by the name of Lionel. It was upon their meeting that Lionel deemed Andrew to be a magical prodigy, someone who would eventually be capable of great feats, and took it unto himself to tutor young Andrew in the ways of magic, taking Andrew with him to Londro upon his graduation from high school. Andrew has spent his last year as Lionel's personal apprentice, floundering, which sorely cuts into his time as a college student at a nearby university.
Lionel himself is a teacher at Londro, being a self-proclaimed Time Wizard. While he has never quite proven this claim, it cannot be doubted that the man is extremely capable, being able to throw around large numbers of powerful spells as if they were nothing.
Crazy Guy said
Alright, then. What does the group not have that could be interesting to fill in? Do we have healer/torturer/assassin-type character yet?
Well, we currently seem to be lacking either a healer or a technical expert. A tech priest could possibly fill the role of both if they specialized in implants or xenobiology, or something else along those lines. The group in general seems to be rather combat focused right now, and if I'd known everyone else would be going for such characters, i probably would have gone with someone who was in a more supportive role instead. Decision is up to you though.
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