I'm a 21st century woman. I believe in G code and .002" tolerances and occasionally winding up on dates with garnet in my hair because the waterjet had an abrasive clog just before I had to go. :3
Sorry, but nothing is as satisfying as finding the perfect stick and turning it into a new masterpiece. I have two main walking sticks. The first one needs some final touches, but mostly I'm working on finding the right final design. The other I'm waiting to do the fire treatment I want to then I'm gonna seal it. It's a really nice kinda pine that once you pass it through a flame it's this fantastic near black dark brown, but the wood pattern still pops.
@Naril sheesh. I just get rocks, sticks, grass, and fire to make stuff at my work. Then again im an outdoor activities specialist so thats kinda all I need. Its still funny trying to design a program of nature survival and craftsmenship when you cant use knives. Well the kids cant atlest I have 5 on me everytime im out.
@Penny@ihinka all im sayin is Leons Catholic. His parents were Catholic. His grandparents were catholic. His great grandparents were protestant but they were assholes.
Basically he supports people, but not their actions.
EDIT: I do feel I should actually clarify this just since it is touchy. Basically he has zero ill will towards people with different views, unless they are particularly annoying about them preachy or forceful for example. If asked he would simply state it goes against his beliefs, and while he thinks others should share them its hardly his place to choose for them. So long as you leave him to his beliefs and know when to be quiet about yours he couldn't care less what you do in the bedroom.
Name: Leon Smith, though there is a sneaking suspicion that last name isn’t really his.
Age: 30
Appearance: Leon comes in around 6’3” and has a decently muscular build. He’s got a nice face, if you go for the rugged boxer kind of thing. He’s got a strong square jaw, a slightly crooked nose, and next to his left eye is about an inch long scar. Despite all that his green eyes still are calm and endearing. He keeps his hair short as a function over form decision. While his wardrobe is fairly average, the observant will notice that he constantly wears a pair of brown leather gloves.
Concept: Leon is all too well versed in the supernatural. As it would turn out growing up in the backwoods of Oregon can lead you into a whole life affected by it. As a child it was just little things, out in the distance: A wandering light or a whisper on the wind. But as Leon grew more perceptive he was finding traces everywhere. He could identify footprints, discern what was a screech owl and what was something from beyond, or sometimes rarely he’d spot things that others denied. Soon enough he was certain there was something much bigger out there. It wasn’t just his skills increasing. It was getting closer. The last nail in the coffin was when, in the middle of the night, the family dog was killed. Everyone was certain it was just a bear or maybe another dog, but upon closer inspection Leon discovered a finger inside the dog’s mouth. A long gray boney finger. Leon burned it to be on the safe side. He was always on edge from that point.
People worried he was going paranoid from living out here, that something was wrong with the boy. Now he needed proof. Leon set a plan into action. Convincing his parents he was going on a week long school trip he headed off. The first couple days were spent following the traces as best he could. When he found the footprints again he knew he was close. He followed stalking closer. Eventually he found himself drawing near to an old cabin, probably used by a hunter in the open seasons. The tracks led inside. Thinking through the options, Leon hid then threw a rock to bust a window. After the glass shattered there was a cry of pain. A person. Leon was stunned for a moment. Had he just made a massive mistake? Had he really gone off the deep end? He wanted to run up and apologize but in the back of his mind, he knew he must be right. The rock was really too small to hurt anyone, or at least wound someone. If there was a person they’d come out the door in three, two, one.
What came out of the door was anything but human. A bleached white monstrosity that smelled like rot. It’s body looked like a distorted corpse with extremely lanky limbs, long clawed fingers and toes, and a mouth large enough to swallow a turkey whole. It screeched a high demented sound, somewhere between a cry of pain and a rage filled roar. Leon fumbled around for an arrow while the monster was still displaying. He notched it and took aim. When the arrow was let loose it seemed to just appear in the monster. The thing staggered around confused. Leon let another fly. Again it sunk deep into the monster. The thing staggered and fell. Now was the only chance. He sprint up and pulled out a silver knife, something he had procured from a flea market months back as his concerns grew. As he closed in on the monster it began to get back up. Leon lunged and stabbed the monster in the back, and again, and again. He continued until his arm didn’t have the strength to pulled the knife out again.
He looked down and saw the shredded corpse of a man. There was no proof, but Leon didn’t need that now. He just needed to run.
===
Leon tried to move life on from that point. He left Oregon. Found a job. Found a wife and had a child with her. Even then no matter where he was he couldn’t ignore the signs of “the beyond” as he began to call it. That constant strain on his mind and the worries it caused began to ruin the marriage. He knew he needed help, but he didn’t turn to a therapist. He dug deeper. He found others like him. He found The Sunday Group. It didn’t put everything together like Leon wanted it to. It didn’t make the things he’d seen any less terrifying, and it didn’t ease him when he was informed his wife had died in a DWI. It gave him one thing. A certainty that cursed or blessed to see these things, he had to acknowledge them.
Now he’s been here years. Somehow still able to pass for sane and still raising his daughter. If you asked he’d probably say she’s the only thing keep him that way. He’s done his best to teach her about the darker side of the world without taking her down the same path.
Powers/skills: Leon is definitely no slouch when it comes to physical capabilities. He took a bit of karate when he was young, but he mostly just retains the grabs and how to throw a good punch. He did grow up hunting and is used to both firearms and bows. Technically he’s much better at archery, but being as it’s much less convenient he carries a pistol as a sidearm. He carries a suitable variety of ammunition for his pistol: blessed, silvered, and even a couple special bullets made out of australian ironwood essentially stake bullets. He also always carries his silver knife, a simple eight inch blade with an antler handle.
When it comes to “the beyond” Leon’s become extremely perceptive to it. Those little oddities that don’t add up jump out to Leon. Admittedly, he is sometimes held back when something normal happens, but he doesn’t know how it works. He’s a paranormal detective not a scientist.
As useful as that experience is it doesn’t help with the more dangerous aspects of the job. Leon’s taken some precautions of the magical variety. He wear a duster which is thoroughly covered with protection runes. They normally are invisible, but in the presence of magic they tend to flare up and give the coat a resistance to magic. This still leaves it open to basically everything else though. Heck a stronger man with a switchblade could probably stab through it if they wanted.
The other and probably far more important is Leon’s practice with totems. Finding himself with limited talents or patience to learn how to cast spells Leon instead found the ability to make totems. The art was all over the world each with useful differences and better focuses for each one. Already a fan of woodworking Leon indulged himself in the true depth of totem craft. Now he doesn’t leave home without them. Everywhere Leon spends a lengthy amount of time has a handful of totems scattered around now. Warding totems, energizing totems, totems that protect the mind, totems that bring good weather, and more.
Leon can’t say for certain that all of the designs he’s studied actually work, but there a good few that he has proven. A native american pacific one that guards doorways, a south pacific totem that projects a sort of spirit shield but disintigrates after the shield fades, and a warding totem from australia that does as it says and wards off bad spirits.
Writing Sample:
The Chekolv deli was the unsuspecting home of the best pastrami in the city. Its owner was also the unsuspecting landlord of one of the best monster hunters in the city, though competition was more limited for that title. The place was old enough to call the cracks between the bricks character, but more than enough of that was supplied by the occupants. On the top floor apartment tucked away in a little corner workshop Leon could be found hunched over a small wooden figure. The room was silent save for the tiny scritches of his penknife. Every detail needed to be exact. Anything less than perfect was not good enough.
He had been toiling away since the break of dawn, and carried on into the afternoon. No protest of the body could discourage his mind. The wood began to take shape, a vaguely human form with some features greatly exaggerated while others were barely there. The most notable detail was the massive eyes. They were as deep as they were wide, two empty sockets that seemed to pierce into the soul. Even Leon found himself getting lost if when he began to stare too long.
A tiny hand grabbing on his shirt pulled him back.
“Daaad. Daaaaad.” A sweet little voice called for him, her voice stronger than the draw of the totem.
Leon set the figure down and picked up someone far more precious to him.
“Maaaria.” He laughed copying the way she had called for him before setting her on his knee.
The little girl giggled wrapping her arms around her daddy. He responded in kind putting his arms tightly around her as he began to refocus his priorities. Maria nuzzled her little face up against Leon’s scraggly beard. Leon petted her long black hair glad to have his daughter back again.
“So how was school today?” Leon asked as he got up and carried his daughter out of his workshop.
“Okay.” She said simply.
“Just okay? Nothing interesting happen today?” Leon asked trying to get a little more info out of her.
Leon set Maria down on one of the kitchen stools before heading to the pantry.
“Joey said, he said he was gonna bring a turtle for show’n’tell, but, but he lied. He brought a toy turtle.”
“Well isn’t that still a turtle?” Leon asked still digging through the stacks of cans and boxes in the pantry.
“But, I thought he was gonna bring a realll one!” Maria pouted crossing her arms.
“Then isn’t it your fault for guessing it was real?” Leon said a quizzical look on his face as he returned with a box of graham crackers and some nutella.
“I wanted to see a real turtle.” Maria said still upset.
Leon considered his daughter’s plight as he spread out the snack. He moved a happiness tiki from the middle of the table off to the side placing a bowl of graham crackers in its place. Adding two glasses of milk made everything right with the world. With snack time set for two he gained a few more minutes to mull over the issue as they both began to nibble at the crackers. As the bowl of crackers began to empty Leon realized that a choice would have to be made.
“Well maybe if you do really well this semester we’ll get a turtle.” Leon decided by two factors: by the end of the semester either Maria wouldn’t even remember she wanted a turtle, or if she had her heart set on it how much trouble could one turtle be.
Even that possibility though made Maria light up. She did a happy little dance swaying back and forth on her stool.
“That goes for school and practice.” Leon added making sure there was an understanding.
“Kay!” Maria agreed still bouncing in her seat.
“Alright, go grab your flashcards.” Leon smiled forced to be happy by the joy coming off his daughter.
Maria jumped off her stool and ran to the bedroom her sneakers lighting up the hallway. Leon cleaned up before sitting down on the living room sofa bed. Maria came running back and plopped herself down on her dad’s lap handing him the stack of 3x5 flashcards.
“Ok Maria, what’s the ABCs?” Leon asked while he grabbed the cards
“ A b c d ef g hi jk lmno p q r s t u v w x y z.” Maria sing-songed.
“And what’s our ABC?” Leon clarified
“Always be careful.” Maria said with a certain pride.
“Good. Now what stops a…. Ghost.” Leon asked pulling up a card with the word ghost on it and a little ghost sticker.
“Uhm…. salt.” Maria said after thinking about it.
Leon flipped the card over to reveal a list of different things that could stop a ghost.
“Mhmm. How about a…. Werewolf.”
“Gold.” Maria said rather fast.
“No, what’s the other really shiny metal.”
“Silver!” Maria almost shouted.
And so it went on. Leon knew there were risks to sharing this. Maria would likely never find a truly normal life, but would a life with no mother, no father, really be any better? This had to be better. If Maria was part of this world then Leon could be part of hers.
So I was keeping this really consistent tone throughout my character, but when I reached skills for some reason the idea of totems came to mind, and now the guy is basically a crazy cat lady, but with totems and tikis.
I'm so torn I could recycle a character from a previous one of these, it was about two years ago and only made it about 200 posts, so I'm tempted to use him again. Same time always a good time to make someone new.
EDIT: Had an idea for a new guy. Probably be the muscle.
“Well this all seems great. A veritable band of adventurers all out on a very vague quest. Just like the old days.” Kean sighed delightedly as he reminisced.
“But where are my manners? I am…” Kean paused to take off his backpack.
Then Kean’s hand snapped to his waist and he pulled both of his boomerangs from their sheaths throwing them up into the air. Holding his hands out to the sides tiny tornados formed to catch the boomerangs and keep them hovering about a foot over his hands.
“Kean, The Tempest!” he announced followed by a big grin that you’d swear sparkled when he first opened his mouth.
He paused for applause, even if there would be none, before sheathing his weapons.
“Well uhm… eh ehm… tough crowd.” Kean trailed off realizing the ranger was probably too young to have every heard of him, he’d never performed for the gorons, and had no clue what the knight thought.
“Then again probably looked a bit stiff. Didn’t wear armor for my previous performances.” Kean noted pulling off his armored shirt and throwing it on his bag.
This revealed a well-toned and smooth scaled body.
“Hope you don’t mind. Been wearing all the time while traveling, and it’s gotten too warm for me.” Kean said but didn’t really care what they thought.
His people didn’t really wear clothes, even the armor that his wife made for him wasn’t expected to be worn all the time.
Kean dug into his backpack and grabbed the other honey cake. As much as he wanted it he had heard the knight’s stomach growl after they introduced themself, and offered it up.
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