eclecticwitch

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Do I need to wait for any additional okay's before I move the character over or is she golden to go?

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

The Grifter

Character you have created:
Aberdeen Betsy Cross
Alias:
The Grifter, LSD, Fantasy.
Dee, DeeDee, Deen, Bets.
Alice Cooper, Danni Driver, Elizabeth MacGweer, Jenna Jupiter, Unida Ligma-Ast, Kel C. Grammar
Speech Color:
DarkSeaGreen
Character Alignment:
Wibbly, Wobbly, Walking all over that line
Identity:
Secret - in a sense
Character Personality:
She is a woman used to getting the things she wants in life for very little work. On that same note, she is the type to help those she likes get (or at least perceive that they are) the things that they want in life. Tit for tat as it were. Give and take. The balance of the world. She never takes more than she needs though. That would be just plain selfish! And of course, she helps out whenever she can. Dee gets a kick out of bringing joy to others, especially children. They are the innocent and pure of the world.

Dee knows she is not a good sort of person though and would not pretend to be otherwise. She can be self-centered - looking out for number one on most fronts. Flirty, compulsive, and dishonest. She can lie as easily as she breathes and a truth from this woman is hard to come by. She is not above ruining lives, marriages, and friendships for the sake of getting what she wants. She has not worked an honest day in her life and has no plans to do so.

This is where we come back to that balance. Stealing from the rich means one must then give to the poor. That is as long as its not something she really, really likes. A girls got to be rewarded for her efforts after all! Charities have received large donations from the powerful and mighty men of the world. They can hardly take it back, after all. They signed the documents. How silly would that look? Banks have written off foreclosures and given loans they may have otherwise denied. All thanks to Dee's gentle persuasion. If Dee wants the Mona Lisa you can bet that some collector somewhere is going to make a large donation to the museum.

She can be a bit of a tough cookie, especially when it comes to her work. She is not easily swayed from a decision once she has made it. She prefers things be neaty and tidy, disgusted with dirt and nature and the great outdoors. She's a city girl. To those she likes she can be an absolute peach, fun, adventurous and chatty. Toward those who get in her way, she can be cold, unrelenting, and sadistic.
Uniform/costume:
No need for a uniform, unless the details call for it. She wears plain clothes which fit the situation she is going into. Typically she can be found in brand name suits, high-end dresses, shoes that cost more than a car and priceless jewelry. Never gaudy though. One should never show off. Just subtly hint at wealth.
Origin Info/Details:
(For best understanding the history, please read Powers first)
She was born quite normally. She was the seventh child to a hairdresser and a mechanic. They lived in an apartment in Dublin and she shared a room with her three sisters growing up. Her father was a severe alcoholic, often passing out in front of the television with a bottle of beer. He was never abusive or cruel though. A gentle giant he could be described as. He often taught his kids how to fix up cars or built little wooden cars with them. Whatever they wanted to do he was fully supportive and tried to make their dreams come true. Her mother, on the other hand, was somewhat absent. She would rather be out partying than taking care of her own children. There are rumors in the building that some of the kids might not be her husbands. If that is true, he never seemed to mind and took care of each and everyone the same.

Despite their low income and many mouths to feed, they always had what the needed. Yes it came from the food pantry or clothes outgrown my neighbors but they never went without. As the kids grew older they got jobs and worked hard to support their family. All were surprisingly close, considering the number of children. One of her siblings passed away due to a drug overdose and another from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A robbery at a petrol station gone wrong. Their mother then disappeared from their lives - taking nothing with her.

It was when Dee was 9 years old that she began to realize she was different. She had started puberty early which in turn kick-started some sort of strangeness inside of her. People would act oddly around her. Not so much her own family but others in the outside world. She would notice they would enter a euphoric state and sometimes even begin to see things that didn't exist. It became confusing when the kids would play games with her and they would all be convinced the dragon was really there. She couldn't see it!

The effects increased with age. Starting subtly until prolonged exposure to her caused full-on hallucinatory states. She would be sitting in a classroom only to have people around her freaking out about the cannonballs coming through the window. This distressed the poor young woman until she realized that her own voice had the power to direct these hallucinations. It was somewhat accidental, this discovery. She had received an essay back with poorer marks than she thought she deserved. She brought it up to the teacher after class who seemed confused. "There is an O1 on your paper, what are you talking about?" Clearly, it was an O4. The computer said it was an O4. He rectified the 'mistake'.

Dee began to test this out, using fake money to purchase goods and convince the homeless they lived in mansions. When people were around her they were happy and she relished in this. She kept out of trouble with her silver tongue and made friends in high and low places. Her powers did not seem to work on her family though. The exposure to her from the very beginning had caused them some resilience to her particular brand of strangeness.

Dee dropped out of high school, tired of dealing with people and taking tests. She found her way underground, working alongside the dregs of society. She hired herself out, committing crimes without batting an eye. She collected goods and money, accumulating wealth she didn't have growing up. She has lived her life a free woman, returning home once a year at Christmas to shower her family with presents. She makes sure her father lives a good life. He is too old and too tired to work. The effects of his alcoholism having caught up with him. They think she is the CEO of some big corporation. Whenever she comes back home it does take some time but the effects of her abilities wear off much more quickly upon those she grew up around.

Hero Type:
Other - a curator of phantasms
Power Level:
World - In a sense. She does not confine herself to one place. No true home. All are targets.
Powers:
-LSD, Mescaline, and Magic Mushrooms: Her body produces a chemical similar to these psychotropic drugs. It is released in a fog around her body, can be transferred through touch, and fluids are particularly potent. She can cause hallucinations with her mere presence, the effects of which increase through proximity or touch. Her voice offers direction for the way the hallucinations take shape, her words twisting the world her body has created.

-The Power of Suggestion: Standing near her will produce a happy, euphoric feeling. Mood lifted and general positive outlook on things. Because of this people tend to be friendly toward her and that makes it easier to offer the suggestions. This is my passport. Heres a twenty-dollar bill. Doesn't that park bench look comfy? Her voice and the fog work in tandem to get others to adhere to her suggestion. Prolonged closeness and enclosed spaces can increase the effects of the pheromone. Within three hours of being in an average-sized, enclosed room, people would begin to display noticeable hallucinatory effects along with increased body temperature and jaw clenching.

-Take my Hand: Her touch can bring the hallucinations to a peek or solidify those beginning to doubt a hallucination. Larger objects and more fantastical dreams brought to life. Make you think you are flying or falling. You are being attacked by an animal. Your dead relative is brought back from the dead. Is the wall moving? More dramatic things can be made believable in their mind through physical contact. Within moments of touching the effects take hold. Touch does not have to be continuous. Prolonged touching can deepen the effects of the drug-like reaction until a disassociative state is reached.

-Kiss Kiss, Take a Hit: Saliva, blood, sweat, and tears are all concentrated forms what her body creates. It is part of what causes the touch to be so effective. However, once any of these things are ingested it would be similar to taking FAR too much acid. Effects are almost immediate and last for the longest about of time - up to twelve hours after ingestion. A person is more susceptible to her persuasion. If too much is given they can become hard to control with even her voice as the hallucinations can become extremely euphoric or terrifying.

-Disguises: No one person can quite agree on what she looks like. They would each see her slightly differently depending on what they think she should look like. She can change her appearance through vocal manipulation to the person looking at her.

-Side effects: Laughter, euphoria, dream-like states, hallucinations, increased body temperature/dehydration, synesthesia. If a long period of time is spent in her company a person can expect to have the following happen hours after experiencing the high from being around her, some may then experience a few hours of an extreme and depressive low and/or suicidal thoughts. Anxiety, paranoia, dizziness, nausea/vomiting, headache, and excessive sweating. Short term exposure usually only results in a very light, hangover-like symptoms if any.

-Drawback: Her abilities do not work on technology, computers, or cameras. She would be seen as hazy with no definitive features. An overcast - like a heat haze would hover around her. She cannot make a computer see her fingerprint any differently nor a card reader nor retinal scan. Prolonged touch causing hallucinatory states means she has never had an actual relationship with anyone beyond her own family. She does have a few friends but they cannot spend much time together. If a hallucination became too grand it becomes difficult to control the person leading to unintended consequences. Attempting to control larger groups of people can be difficult as well. She cannot account for every difference in the psyche and more people means more divided attention.

Attributes:

Height: 5'2"
Weight: 128lbs
Strength Level: Normal Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Normal Human
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Resources: Extreme

Weaknesses: The usual human things - you know knives, poisons, guns and the like. A well-ventilated area or being outside means that the effects of her power are lessened. Bio-hazard suits would keep a person safe from her as well. Chocolate, it'll get a gal to forgive just about anything.

Supporting Characters:
Will mostly just be mentioned here and there but are not an intrinsic part of the story for now.
Father: Dean Ryan Cross - ailing and in hospice, ex-mechanic
Mother: Laura Denise Cross - Hairdresser - whereabouts unknown
First Child: Oliver Reed Cross - Mechanic
Second Child: January Lillian Kemp - Housewife - takes care of Dean
Third Child: Marcy October Green - Photographer
Fourth Child: Kennedy Marcus Cross - Deceased
Fifth Child: Robert Gregory Cross - Airline Pilot
Sixth Child: Anna Kelly Cross - Deceased
Hospice Nurse: Cole Mender - Housecall Nurse - May be having an affair with January.

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:


Sample Post:

Dee sat with one of her stocking clad legs crossed over the other. Her heel hung from her toes as she clicked away at a phone furiously. A groan from across the way caused her to pause and lookup. Two feet in front of her was a young man with a puffy eye and bleeding lip. Bruises mottled his features and his clothes were ripped and disheveled. She glanced back at her phone and cursed.
"Uhg, yeh made me lose," she said haughtily. She tossed the phone aside with little care what happened to it. It hit the ground with a crack, the screen a spiderweb of lines. Dee replaced her shoe properly on her foot and leaned forward. "What do you think ducky?" she inquired of the man with a soft Irish accent. "Ready to squeal?" She could already seen the sheen of sweat on his body and the way his jaw worked. Was that the cracking sound of teeth grinding together too hard?

She placed her foot on the ground, disturbing a layer of dust upon the concrete floor. They were standing in an old factory, windows shattered and letting in the late day sun. She had been here for about twenty minutes. The poor man looked as if he had been here for hours. Two men in fine suits stood at the far end of the room, wearing facial masks as if it would help. Dee approached the lad and gently ran a hand across his cheek and down his neck. He smiled at the touch. Probably felt nice comparative to the pummelling he had received.

"I don't know anything, I-I s-swear," he managed and spit out a glob of bloodied saliva on the floor. Dee hissed, sidestepping so that the offending fluid would not touch her.

"Did your mother never teach yeh manners?" She crossed her arms and leaned down to look at the boy's face. He averted his gaze. "No, I suppose she didna." She clicked her tongue and moved around to the back of the chair the boy sat on. Struggling somewhat she dragged the chair over to a chain which hung from the ceiling. She wrapped it around him and hooked the end through one of the links before coming to stand before him again. "Now lad, why doncha come clean so we can be done and over with this mess?" He shook his head and she sighed. "Look down at the floor, ya fool. Didya not see the opening?" She gestured with a toe toward a metal door on the ground. He whimpered. "Yeh see, that's where they keep the dippin' acid. Ya know, to clean the metals."

Dee walked closer to the doors and pressed a button on the floor. The doors dropped open, revealing bubbling, acrid liquid below. It was yellowish in color and the sulfuric scent of it caused the boy to gag. Dee moved across to a control panel and pressed a button which lifted the chair and boy off the ground. The press of another button had him hanging over the pit.

"Now. Yeh be wanting to come clean, I should think. Just tell the boss man where yeh hid the damn USB." THe boy trembled and cried out that he knew nothing. He knew nothing! She pressed a button and the chair dropped an inch toward the ground. The boy just sobbed and begged and repeated he knew nothing at all. "Yeh ever felt acid on the skin lad?" she inquired and approached him. In her hands, she held a bottle. "It burns and eats the skin away. Slowly." She tossed the acid at him and it splashed over his form. He screamed and writhed in pain as his wounds and clothes smoked.

"My boss... Andrew... He knows... I just run the books," the boy sobbed out. Dee smiled, satisfied. She went back to the control panel and hit the button. The chair dropped onto the ground. The boy screamed, drowning in the acid. From Dee's point of view, the metal doors on the ground had never opened. And she had splashed a bottle of water over him. When he fell it was merely onto the floor. No acid. Just this dirty, dust-filled factory and a tortured boy. She looked at the two men.

"Alright, yeh got yer answers. Now get me out of here, this damn place smells like a pig trough. And I've got dirt on my shoes." She approached them and both men stepped back before one followed her out of the building. The other was left to deal with the young man and his bad trip.

Darke Magyk - Concluded

Mona Windrider

Location: The Future Palace
Skills:

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It seemed like Bruce was having a very bad day. But you know what? So was Mona and she wasn't going around calling people annoying! Perhaps mostly because she was having trouble comprehending and catching up on what was happening here. What she did understand at this point was that they needed to keep some poor soul from death to prevent the end of the world. People tended to die regardless of the help offered. How were they going to manage this? Something something gods. Mona was feeling infinitesimally small.

This was only furthered by the fact that a large hand wrapped about her waist and hoisted her into the air. It knocked the breath from her and caused her to drop Erasmus. Gasping, she placed her hands against the giant's thumb and looked up at him wide-eyed. People below her were shouting. What were they saying? The booming voice hurt her head. He was holding her so tightly. There was only one thing she could do.

Purge.

Mona barfed quite spectacularly - her cider and treats from the celebration projecting toward the Giant. Once everything had left her stomach she looked down, quite saddened. She had enjoyed those foods... and they had not tasted quite as good coming back up. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand before looking up at the giant. "Hold a g'el more gent'ley. Yer muthah raise yeh in some sort o' barn?" she demanded of the beast.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Location: The Crown Room - Baton Rouge, Louisiana

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Bobbi was having trouble processing. Her memories were all meshing together and she was having trouble drawing lines between what was real and what was fake. She rubbed her fingers of her free hand over her temples and shook her head. The Thieves Guild was family. They had always been there for her. Well... No... Not always. She used to fight in the underground, didn't she? Was she on drugs right now? Bobbi felt like throwing up.

She turned her attention on Mary and Ana and realized that she knew neither of these women. Wait. She knew Mary right? But Ana... Not really. She was alone in a room with people she didn't know. Her grip on the handle of the hammer tightened. Her loyalty to an organization she was never really a part of and her desire to do the right thing were battling inside of her. In silence, she followed the rest. Once she was out of the building she was going to have to disappear.

The Uncanny X-Babies - Concluded

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Location: Serval Industries - Kitchen --> Rooftop
Skills:

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Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, despite her valiant attempts to keep herself from doing such. Too much stillness caused this. She willed the coffee pot to hurry up and deliver the goods. It did not make it fill any faster. To keep herself busy she started wiping down counters, washing dishes left behind and it wasn't long before she was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor.

The beeping of the pot woke her out of her trance. She blinked, sitting up and realizing what she was doing. She tossed the sponge she had been using onto the floor before washing her hands. She took down two mugs. One for herself. One for Andrew. It wasn't like she had ever sat down and had coffee with the guy before. She had been too wrapped up in her own issues to even try to get along with everyone. But at least he had been nice. Maybe if she had been nicer. She swiped new tears from her face before slapping her cheeks.

After filling the two cups, she grabbed her scarf and wrapped it around her neck. It did not take long for her to carry the two cups up to the rooftop. The chilly, winter morning air bit at her cheeks and nose. The sudden sunlight and cold caused her to release a sneeze dumping a bit of coffee onto the pebbled roof. With a sniff she approached the edge of the roof and set Andrew's cup down before she sipped from her own. The dark liquid burned her tongue and warmed her insides while she watched life below.

Bobbi set her cup down and pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves from her pockets. The next item to appear was her pack of cigarettes and her zippo. Flick. Flick. Flame appeared and she inhaled the carcinogens with delight. Tucking away her lighter she gazed up at the clouds making their way across the great big blue.

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Location: Serval Industries - Library
Skills:

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He heard the door open and turned his gaze from the book. He expected to see Bobbi marching her way around the corner and telling him to hurry up. This did not happen, instead, a familiar voice accosted his ears and his whole body stiffened. He narrowed his eyes, listening carefully. He hoped his trained ears would be able to pick up the faint sound of the other person's voice but he had no such luck.

Slowly he closed his book, ensuring to mark the page before he did so and set it on the chair as he stood. Despite his large frame, he had been taught the finer points of stealth. He managed to make his way closer to Gardner, hoping to glean more information from this conversation. He would have to find Watts later and see if he could tap the boss' phone. Who in the world was she talking to? It was obvious who she was speaking about, and rather unkindly too. Wes' dislike for the woman grew.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Too the almighty powers that be! I have been invited to join up, however, I want to make sure the character idea I have is kosher. To whom shall I tell my secrets?

Darke Magyk - Concluded

Mona Windrider

Location: The Future Palace
Skills:

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Her eye's widened at the unnecessary amount of vehemence Bruce put into his speech. Mona took a step back, careful as possible not to trip over any of the deceased that littered the area. Maybe she should just go then. But where? How? These were the people that brought her so surely they could get her back. Shock colored her face as not only the prince but the young woman defended her to the irrational Banner. She offered them both a small smile. So it seemed they were speaking about neither rags nor rocks.

"I be Mona," she responded to the pretty blonde, taking a couple of steps toward her. "So... If dis be deh future den..." She let her eyes roam back out over the devastation and shuddered. "We be lookin' tah change it." She brought her attention down to the head in her hands and then looked around to see if there might be some sort of stick or spear she could pike his head upon. It would be easier than carrying him around. As she looked she listened to the conversation more closely. She had no idea what was going on but she would certainly like to be helpful if she could.

The Uncanny X-Babies - Concluded

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Location: Serval Industries - Bedroom --> Kitchen
Skills:

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A month had passed. A month in which her heart hurt and she had nothing that she could use to calm and quell this sadness. No comfy drug den to bury herself in - nameless and faceless. She had to wake up every morning and look at her stupid fucking face in the mirror and know that a good man was dead but she was alive. The inability to do any sort of substance beyond nicotine had left her throwing herself into training. With Wesley. On her own. She had even asked Evelyn a couple of times. Anything to keep her moving and going and not slowing down to think too hard.

Bobbi turned the shower off and stepped out into the steaming room. From the rack, she pulled a towel and began to pat away the moisture in her hair while she watched the droplets of water slowly slide down the fogged-up mirror. She was glad she couldn't see her reflection right now. She didn't want to see...

She tossed the towel aside and walked out into her room, steam billowing out from behind her. Bobbi pulled on simple black jeans that were slightly cut up, a tank-top with a skull on it, and her leather jacket. She made a quick stop in the kitchen to make herself a mug of coffee before starting her day on the roof as had become her ritual now. She did her best to keep her mind blissfully blank while she ground up the beans, added water to the pot and pressed the on button. But her thoughts had a way of traveling back in time. She closed her eyes and breathed out a deep sigh.

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Location: Serval Industries - Library
Skills:

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Wesley had needed to take the time to mull over things. He had spent as much time with Wanda as he could before she had been carted off by Shield. While useful, the information he gleaned had not been much. He had also spent time reaching out to contacts and researching their boss - Gardner. While useful, still not much. He needed more.

When not snooping he was training with Bobbi or actively avoiding Watts. The man had nothing but ill intent for him and Wes was not keen on making things worse. As for Bobbi, she did not react as negatively towards him as she had in the past, though her words were often clipped and short.

Wes sat in the library, a mug of tea in one hand and an old American Western in his other. He turned the pages in the paperback, enjoying the smell of old print. A moment to relax. To himself for quiet before the bustle of the day began. He planned to soak up every ounce of it before Bobbi started on him about teaching her how to hit properly. He sometimes wondered if it was to get revenge for Andrew or to punch Watts in his face.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Location: The Crown Room - Baton Rouge, Louisiana

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As Casper's shadow came over her she shrank back from him. His closeness caused her to lash out. "Keep your fucking hands off of me," she screeched. And then she paused, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes as he went to talk to his brother. The two different sets of memories rolling around in her brain, competing with each other were giving her one hell of a headache. She rubbed her temples as she stood and approached the brothers.

She knew neither of these men. Not really. She had memories of them but none of them were real, were they? She scooped up her hammer and hefted it over her shoulder as she came to a stop near them. Her green eyes were glued to the crown. "We've got a job to finish. May as well finish it." Her accent had changed, sounding much more midwestern than the Cajun she had been speaking with previously.

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

Location: Faeril's Eyrie

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GAK!

Fatima made a choking noise as she was lifted by the back of her tunic and set on the ground. She struggled against the man's hand like a drunken cat in a sack. She flailed and kicked and spit and hissed until her feet touched the ground. She turned her body to look at the Eyrien who had picked her up and now pushed her toward a group of people. Her face was set in a grim frown and her body tensed with all the vim and vinegar she would unleash upon the man. Great. Just great. This was how she was going to fucking die. Awesome. She should have just listened to Xandar and stayed put. She was shaking in fear.

She paused, the trembling quelling when he mentioned crotchety Eyrien woman. "You are Lady Faeril's people. Thank goodness. She is walking up the path to get here." Fatima placed a hand against her heart and breathed out a deep sigh of her relief. The man had also asked who she was. She lifted her white gold eyes to his face and gave him one of her charming smiles. "I'm Fatima Damiana. A pleasure to meet you. How do I call you?" She reached out the hand that had been on her chest to offer the man a handshake.

The dome faded and soon the sweet scent of smoke foretold the coming of the Queen Killer. She turned her face toward him and lit up like a beacon as he approached.* However, when he got to the small group she felt herself pulled away from Gen. "Hey now," she said with a playful pout, "I'm not some trinket to be pushed and pulled about at the trader's stalls." Her eyes fell on the blood that spattered Xandar and realized that not all of it belonged to the enemy.

Though she did not know the man well her features filled with her concern. Brown's knit and the playfulness fading from her face into worry. She reached out a hand and touched his elbow. "You're hurt," she said quietly. Her voice cracked with her distress. Blood made her uneasy. People hurt made her uneasy. "Let me fix you up."

My Hider

*(a thing she would never have imagined could happen if a Queen Killer came her way.)