Horrid

Call of Cthulhu: Sea of Nightmares

Basic information:
Name: Odette Langley
Age: 31
Profession: Waitress/Cook
Useful skills:

• Hardy - She's no stranger to an honest day's work. Odette is able to slog with the best of them, even if she isn't as experienced in some areas.
• Cooking - Whilst waiting tables is her main profession, Odette is not unused to being called into the back for a shift of manning the fryer. She can whip up and egg-salad sandwich or a salsbury steak with the best of them.
• Willpower - Years of working at the diner have given Odette the necessary gusto and strength of will to stand up to pretty much any rowdy customer or disgruntled manager. She's hardier than most in terms of emotion and mentality.
• Knife-work - Odette prides herself on being able to wow her patrons with her fancy knife-work in the kitchen. Cutting, throwing, dicing, self-defence. She can do it all, but that isn't that much use if the assailant isn't exactly earthly.

Unskilled in:

• Firearm Use - Odette has fired a gun once, maybe twice. She is not familiar with the use of such a weapon. She could learn if the situation demanded it, but otherwise she has no clue.
• Navigation - Odette isn't the best with directions, or the remembering of directions. She is very prone to getting lost and arguing over misremembered geographical features. Was it left at the hollow stump, or right?
• Observation - Working a 9-5 slog has left Odette a bit destitute in the area of observation and finer details. She is not a woman to sweat the small stuff, and as such can suffer when it comes to those skills being needed.
• Subtlety - Whilst she can keep a secret, when questioned or quizzed Odette finds it hard not to give away that she is lying. She is an honest woman, but this can sometimes throw her into the fire.

Appearance:
Height: 5'9".
Weight: 140lbs.
Eye color: Odette's eyes are green, with small flecks of gold.
Hair color: Her hair is black and dull, like a shadow.
Skin color: Peppered with freckles, fair but slightly tanned.
Description: Odette is a caucasian woman of English and American descent. She has gotten a bit chubby in recent years, but it is plain to see that she has some muscle to her pear shaped figure. She could fit the profile of an active mother, if she had any kids. Her hair is curly, usually up in a ponytail. She has a slightly upturned nose, a round face and eyes that seem a little bit too big. Her lips are rather soft, and her teeth are straight and white. The best way to describe her would be 'warm'.

Personality:
Interactions with others: She regards strangers with friendliness, giving them the benefit of the doubt. This can be a front for thinly-veiled suspicion, but it is easily turned over upon learning what a person is made of.
Likes: Honesty, kindness, conversation, music, children, flowers, the sea.
Dislikes: Liars, criminals, the upper class, the elderly, extremism.
Fears: Death, Aging, Loneliness, Irrelevance, Drowning.
Aspirations/goals: To make a name for herself, to start a family, to live happily and to live safely. She is not a very complicated woman, nor is she a very ambitious one. Odette's only want is to make an impression that her children can follow into a better life. She doesn't want her family to be known for waiting tables and nothing else.
Mental state: Odette is stable enough for a middle-aged woman with no children. Average.

Equipment list:

• Pocketbook.
• Pencil.
• Flashlight.
• Switchblade.
• Cigarettes.
• Lighter.

The Sands of Blood (Dead)

Drizzak

---

The landscape widened before the excited goblin's eyes as his eyes acclimatised to the yawning void that stood ahead of the wagon. Nothing but dust and trees out there. Nothing interesting for him to see. What a boring area for him, almost not worth ruling over. Lumped with a bunch of warm-bloods that didn't have nearly the same fire or hunger that he did. It was enough to make Drizzak cry, the dullness of it all. He needed action, blood and flame, to roar as he tore a mans arm from its socket. 

He ground his teeth and turned to hop back into the wagon from the steed's back. The sack upon his back hit the wooden floor as he sifted through its contents. The short warm-blood had spoken about him. About his height. Strange that he was taller than a man from a race his former clan had once warred with for so many years. Grabbing a vial of dark, thick liquid, Drizzak dropped what looked like a few teeth and flakes of brown gunk into the liquid. The dark was immediately dismissed by the liquid igniting into firey reds and oranges, lighting up the wooden boards of the wagon. He chuckled darkly, turning to the halfling slowly. 

"Drizzak no goblin. Drizzak more. Drizzak dragon. Remember, halfman."

With a indiscernable whisper and another foreboding chortle, the vial have off a puff of acrid smoke and fizzled as Drizzak corked it and fixed it to the inside of his costume with a length of leather strap. Still giggling maniacally, he immediately set to work on stuffing another vial of dark liquid with strange white paper before spitting in it and shaking. The liquid swam with smoky grey before becoming a uniform white, undulating slowly before it was corked. This too was fixed to the inside of his costume. He was ready. 

With his preparation complete, Drizzak tried to find himself a seat. The dwarf, the stoneman, he was yelling. Screaming of lizard-whelp and throwing accusations. Drizzak's teeth seemed to bear all on their own, lips curling up to show the maw full of jagged fangs. 

"Stoneman rude. Drizzak say he dragon. No small-scale! You see!" The dragon's wroth had been teased, prompting Drizzak to yap and draw back the hood of his costume, faint light front within illuminating his form to reveal his pointed ears and leathery, ash coloured skin. 

"Stoneman use eyes right. Drizzak no in mood to take out."

The Metahuman Revolution (Reboot)

Vivian Goodman (Martyr)

---

"I've told you before and I'll tell you again, for the last goddamn time."

Vivian's tongue burned as she slammed the door to her locker and snapped the padlock shut before spinning around to face the triad of her fellow Freedom Fighters looking on at her hungrily. She could feel the air beginning to heat around her mouth and eyes, but she could still hold off on her abilities. She wasn't without her control. Vivian's tone was warm and cooing, but had the slightest hint of venom.

"I tend the medbay, I heal the injured and I console the mourning as well as I can. That is my job. My duty. I refuse to get out there and become a part of the problem that I am working to solve."

With an impatient huff, she cuffed a dangling piece of short hair behind her ear and grit her teeth. They were becoming more and more persistent with each person that was brought to her. It was terrible. Horrible. Burns and bulletwounds and dismemberments and blood and guts everywhere. It was non-stop. All she wanted to do was to try and stem the tide of violence that came spilling in through her medbay doors every time there was a major conflict. "Come on," One of the rebels pleaded, "With your light-show bullshit we could really hit them where the sun don't shine, y'know?"

She turned from them and walked from the locker-room over to a basin to wash her hands. The water was cold and her hands let off a belch of steam as she shook them dry. Her expression was completely unamused. Looking him in the eye proved less welcoming than she anticipated, as they flinched away from her icy glare. "First of all, really? A pun was supposed to convince me? Come on, guy." She planted her boot forward and stopped at the doorframe between the lockerroom and the main floor of the medbay. Vivian may have been a shrinking violet when dealing with her patients, but she was fervent in her beliefs otherwise. She was not a violent woman. She vowed to do no harm, even before she qualified for her schooling.

"Second of all, no. No, and that is final."

The Metahuman Revolution (Reboot)

Will there be a starting IC post or is it just get accepted and go?

Call of Cthulhu: Sea of Nightmares

How's this?

Odette Langley for review.

Basic information:
Name: Odette Langley
Age: 31
Profession: Waitress/Cook
Useful skills:

• Hardy - She's no stranger to an honest day's work. Odette is able to slog with the best of them, even if she isn't as experienced in some areas.
• Cooking - Whilst waiting tables is her main profession, Odette is not unused to being called into the back for a shift of manning the fryer. She can whip up and egg-salad sandwich or a salsbury steak with the best of them.
• Willpower - Years of working at the diner have given Odette the necessary gusto and strength of will to stand up to pretty much any rowdy customer or disgruntled manager. She's hardier than most in terms of emotion and mentality.
• Knife-work - Odette prides herself on being able to wow her patrons with her fancy knife-work in the kitchen. Cutting, throwing, dicing, self-defence. She can do it all, but that isn't that much use if the assailant isn't exactly earthly.

Unskilled in:

• Firearm Use - Odette has fired a gun once, maybe twice. She is not familiar with the use of such a weapon. She could learn if the situation demanded it, but otherwise she has no clue.
• Navigation - Odette isn't the best with directions, or the remembering of directions. She is very prone to getting lost and arguing over misremembered geographical features. Was it left at the hollow stump, or right?
• Observation - Working a 9-5 slog has left Odette a bit destitute in the area of observation and finer details. She is not a woman to sweat the small stuff, and as such can suffer when it comes to those skills being needed.
• Subtlety - Whilst she can keep a secret, when questioned or quizzed Odette finds it hard not to give away that she is lying. She is an honest woman, but this can sometimes throw her into the fire.

Appearance:
Height: 5'9".
Weight: 140lbs.
Eye color: Odette's eyes are green, with small flecks of gold.
Hair color: Her hair is black and dull, like a shadow.
Skin color: Peppered with freckles, fair but slightly tanned.
Description: Odette is a caucasian woman of English and American descent. She has gotten a bit chubby in recent years, but it is plain to see that she has some muscle to her pear shaped figure. She could fit the profile of an active mother, if she had any kids. Her hair is curly, usually up in a ponytail. She has a slightly upturned nose, a round face and eyes that seem a little bit too big. Her lips are rather soft, and her teeth are straight and white. The best way to describe her would be 'warm'.

Personality:
Interactions with others: She regards strangers with friendliness, giving them the benefit of the doubt. This can be a front for thinly-veiled suspicion, but it is easily turned over upon learning what a person is made of.
Likes: Honesty, kindness, conversation, music, children, flowers, the sea.
Dislikes: Liars, criminals, the upper class, the elderly, extremism.
Fears: Death, Aging, Loneliness, Irrelevance, Drowning.
Aspirations/goals: To make a name for herself, to start a family, to live happily and to live safely. She is not a very complicated woman, nor is she a very ambitious one. Odette's only want is to make an impression that her children can follow into a better life. She doesn't want her family to be known for waiting tables and nothing else.
Mental state: Odette is stable enough for a middle-aged woman with no children. Average.

Equipment list:

• Pocketbook.
• Pencil.
• Flashlight.
• Switchblade.
• Cigarettes.
• Lighter.

Call of Cthulhu: Sea of Nightmares

I am, just forgot to subscribe to it when I posted my interest. Whoopsie-doodle!

The Sands of Blood (Dead)

@Inertia
Pathfinder is being allowed, I'm playing an Alchemist. You could play a Magus? Its pretty much exactly what you're talking about.

Some info here.

The Sands of Blood (Dead)

Drizzak

---

Drizzak leapt from the stool as he noticed the rest of the party leaving, toppling it with a loud clatter as he ran out the door. The bar staff could be heard outside the bar giving a sigh of relief as the dragon had finally left their presence, demanding nothing of them but their attention. The red of his costume almost shone in the light of the moon as he barreled toward the wagon, nearly colliding with one of the wheels as he failed to stop himself in time and went skidding around to the other side.

"We go! We smash! We burn! Ahahaha!"

His laughter was shrill and maniacal as he mounted the wagon and attempted to climb forward to the camel, where he soon found himself standing atop one of its humps. The creature didn't seem to mind too much. It must have been his domineering sense of majesty. His face almost split in two as he pulled an excited grin, jagged teeth glinting in the moonlight. The dark was nothing to his goblin eyes, as he was naturally a creature of the dark. He could see the road and the rest of the group around the wagon. It was almost like being in another raiding party, except everyone, or mostly everyone was taller than him. Drizzak was rather tall for a Goblin, but he usually paid no mind.

The dragon-goblin pulled the hood of his costume up once more before checking his bag and crossbow at his back. Still there. Still safe. He roared as well as he could, looking back at the others before pointing ahead.

"We kill dogmans, we eat dogmans! Yes? Hahahah!"

The Metahuman Revolution (Reboot)

Name: Vivian 'Viv' Goodman

Alias: Martyr

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Alignment: Freedom Fighters

Skills: Has no combat training at all. Classically educated. Trained in medicinal care, first aid and triage care. Skilled long distance runner and climber. Something of a detective, she has a keen eye.

Powers: Photokinesis, Wound Transferral and Regeneration.

• Photokinesis - The manipulation and utilization of the particles that make up visible light, photons, for use in various situations. Uses vary from changing an objects colour temporarily, changing an object or area's refractive index to allow for invisibility, lighting up dark places, blinding enemies and may later develop into faster travel, concentration of light into a focal point AKA lasers and eventually the ability to project hard-light constructs. A side-effect of this ability allows her to manipulate heat within a very short range. She may only increase heat or normalise it (bring it to room temperature). This carries the risk of harming herself however, as she is not heat-resistant and is still able to be burned.
• Wound Transferral - The ability to take the wounds of other beings and transfer them to herself, thereby taking on their injuries to better heal them. Can be extremely dangerous if a fatal wound is taken on all at once.
• Regeneration - Can heal from more severe wounds faster than the average person. Still just as susceptible to violence as any other person. Relies entirely on how much ambient light she has absorbed, only in the sun or bright lights can she heal faster.

Equipment: First Aid Kit, Magnifying Glass, Telescope, Rope, Rations, Blanket, Extra Clothing, Flashlight.

Personality: Initially quiet and reticent, Vivian is a stranger to the fields of battle and war. She deplores violence in all forms, but understands that self-defence is necessary sometimes, especially now. Not extremely talkative, she would rather listen to what her companions have to say. She is usually one to take the diplomatic route to an obstacle, resolving issues with words and gifts rather than blood and thunder. She rarely speaks openly, and only opens her mouth when she deems it necessary. This has lead to her being a bit of a pushover, but when push comes to shove she can be strong, if only for a while. Otherwise she is rather friendly and kind.

History: Vivian was your average woman, learning to become a doctor, or a paramedic. Or a nurse. She can't even remember. She lived in an upper-class neighbourhood on the Emerald Coast and had average friends and family. As far as she was concerned, life was perfect. Perfect being perfectly average, if not a little bit snobby. She didn't even know what a metahuman was besides the shouting crowds on TV and the terrorist attacks on Helios facilities. She just tried to distance herself from it. She never imagined that she'd be thrown into the thick of it, just because she shines a bit brighter than most. When her powers manifested, she was quickly scooped up and away from all that she knew. Her little world shattered, she lived in isolation within the confines of Helios' facilities and experienced first-hand what she had only heard about before from news broadcasts. The injustice and mistreatment ignited a fire in her heart that could not be extinguished and when her facility was broken into by Freedom Fighters, she was eager to enlist. She is still convinced that there is a solution to this whole issue that doesn't involve senseless violence and loss, so she fights for that. Not with weapons, but words.

Residing at the FF base on the Emerald Coast, Vivian has a name for herself, and a reputation for being a hard worker. Most know her as either Viv or 'Martyr', a codename the other residents pegged on her, due to the nature of her care and her demeanour.

Appearance: A girl of lean build, standing at around 5'2", Vivian is by no means a giant. Her skin is the colour of ground cocoa, and her eyes shine with the piercing, icy blues of the tundra. Her hair is black, cut short into something of a pixie cut. She is fond of smiling, with soft lips riddled with tiny cuts and nicks and a button nose that looks like it has been broken before, as it twists slightly. She is lithe and wiry from continuous cardiovascular exercise and training. She usually dresses in practical outfits consisting of cargo pants, long-sleeved shirts, heavy jackets and tough work boots all in various greys and browns. When she uses her powers, light sometimes shines from her eyes and mouth, illuminating her face as a halo of light at her crown appears.

Other: Does not sleep at all when fully charged by the light, but sometimes does need to lay her head down. Viva La Revolution.

The Sands of Blood (Dead)

If we are going on 3.5 does that mean Pathfinder is cool too, since its pretty much 3.75?