Klaudus

Cursed

Going by taxonomy names for fish, I'd call it something like Osteichthropy, that being a bastardisation of the word: Ostreichthyes, or bony fish. And yeah, dark vision is something I'll include.

Cursed

I'm possibly being a little too creative with my curse here, so let me know if it strays from the theme of the roleplay too far. Name: Oswalt Grimsley, otherwise known as Monger. Gender: Male Age: 49 Appearance: Oswalt is a horrible mutation of a man, and nowadays can be compared more closely with a fish than a person. His limbs are gangly and covered in a thin scaly texture, while his body is bloated, misshapen, and hunched over. Most notable is Oswalt's face, which is defined by two watery lenses that are impossible to read. Horrific to say the least, Oswalt often scares those unused to his form, and he's made a habit of haunting the pier where he once worked. Equipment: Oswalt wears the tattered remains of a suit. His breeches are stretched and torn at their hems, and his coat barely fits, but altogether, it does its job of covering his disturbing figure. To complete the look, the ghoul also dons a scuffed bowlers hat, a small item that adds a bit of flavour to his outfit. History: Some years ago, Oswalt Grimsley was serving as Sutton's harbour master. While the job came with little prestige and no welfare, it was an important role all the same. Oswalt would unload various ships, correct paperwork, inspect cargo, and generally ensure that the harbour functioned as normal. Though after the birth of his 6th child, and the rising cost of food, his salary could no longer support his family, and so Oswalt sought additional work. Oswalt got in touch with the right people from the underworld, and soon began importing darker commodities such as opium, cocaine, and even slaves. His position as harbour master allowed him to link the paper trail of his workings to lower ranking employees, meaning that whenever something went wrong, he remained safe while the bobbies dragged some poor sap to prison. The extra income ensured that his family and he were well fed, and for a time, all was well. One evening, Oswalt and a couple of lackies were waiting at the end of a pier for a shipment of "gourmet, but illegal" fish. While normally Oswalt would refuse to import something he wasn't positive he could sell on, the seller was annoyingly persistent, and in the end, convinced Oswalt to accept the deal. At two in the morning an old barge saddled up to the dock, and moments later, a man of the orient presented himself, opening the door to the hold so that Oswalt and company might inspect the goods. Tiredly, Oswalt clambered into the small skip and opened one of the crates. Sure enough, there laid at least his own weight in bizarre alien looking trout. Before Oswalt could shut the lid to the barrel, he felt a snag on his finger, only to turn around and find the jaws of one of the fish locked firmly to his appendage. Oswalt quickly killed the creature, dashing it against the side of the boat and storming out. He rang the police, and blamed the oriental for trying to smuggle an illegal substance. Clutching his throbbing wound, Oswalt went to bed with his head spinning. Over the next month, Oswalt began to change. His face became heavy with tiredness, as his eyes began to bulge. His teeth felt loose in his gums, and his skin had begun to pale to an unhealthy colour. His family were mortified, convinced that he had caught some terrible disease while working with "horrible foreigners". In a sense, they were correct. The hospital conducted hundreds of tests on Oswalt, and could only shrug in confusion when asked for a diagnosis. When all seemed lost, Oswalt framed his own death, not wanting to see his family suffer through his grave transformation any longer. Now, Oswalt is fully transformed. He continues to operate within the underworld, going by the nickname: Monger to protect his identity. Every month his family receive what they believe to be life insurance, when in reality it is Oswalt's earnings from his shady dealings. Curse: As evident by his transformation, Oswalt is the victim of a blood curse similar to lycanthropy. Transmitted by a fish rare to Sutton's waters, the curse transforms a human into an amphibian abomination, who must remain somewhat damp in order to survive. While the disadvantages of such a curse are obvious, Oswalt does benefit from the following advantages: He can "breathe" underwater, he can see underwater, and his equipped with long claws capable of rending through clothing and flesh. As such, Oswalt is now an individual to be feared, though he has not lost his humanity, and seldom attacks people with his natural weapons.

What tense?

I'm curious as to what tense people usually tend to write in. I have the bad habit of switching between the two if I'm not careful.

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

Everything too fast.

In Justice's Name: A Superhero RP

Masa Hayashida (Klaudus) While you rode on your motorcycle traveling across Japan to prove your fighting prowess to anyone who thinks otherwise, you receive a letter challenging you to a fight. It said the fight was going to take place in the parking lot of an abandoned building in Okinawa. Being who you are, you accept. Once you get there, you meet who seem to be your challenger. A dark-armored man standing at least two heads taller than you stood in the middle of the parking lot. His armor was black in color but shined because of the sunlight and is reminiscent of a samurai's armor with elements of shinobi. The helmet was certainly a samurai's but a mask covered his face. "You are Masa Hayashida, yes?" He asked you in full Japanese. "By order of the Japanese government, you are to cease and desist. Your powers and personality are a danger to the public." He told you. "Come quietly so we may find you a place among us."

@PaulHaynek

Masa spits on the ground, shooting his toothpick to the ground, only to replace it with a brand new one. His demeanour is one of quiet rebellion as he sits with his back slouched and his hands in his pockets. He tilts his head back to get a good look at the armoured man, raising an eyebrow and popping a smirk. "Hora hora, this guy thinks he can just boss me around.. HAH" he'd scoff, dropping his toothpick to the floor, and again, replacing it with a new one. Taking a somewhat new stance, now looking off to the left, Masa speaks once more in his usual snarky tone. "And just who is us? For all I know you could be the government!" he accuses with reckless abandon. In time with this flare of anger, Locomotive Breath materialises next to Masa, floating just an inch or two off the ground. The guardian spirit hums quietly like a motorcycle as it floats idle, awaiting orders.

The Blue Moon Tavern

After his little spat with the witch, Viggo swung by the bar, sitting down on a stool nearby his iced bucket of beer bottles. He uncorked one with his teeth and quickly consumed its contents, resting his idle hand flat on his guitars strings. Once sated, the guitarist stood again, wiping his lips with this thumb, and cast his gaze in the direction of Rouen who had been looking over the various contracts pinned to the large message board. With a huff, Viggo pushed himself off his seat and made his way over to the board to see if he could find something to do. Viggo poured over the messages, rolling his eyes at more than one. "Boo hoo, you lost a dog.. Buy a new one.." he uttered quietly while hunched forward to pour over the rest of the notices. At last, his eyes fixated on one that seemed worthy of his talents. After noting the details to memory, Viggo moved towards the bar, whistling to get Bernard's attention. "Hey, Bernie, what's the deal with this daughter situation. The island quest, with the uh, disgusting tribespeople" he would question, leaning forward onto the bar, having swung his guitar behind his back once more.

The Blue Moon Tavern

So what's the deal with missions, do we need confirmation from a GM to go out on a quest, or is it something we just sorta do?

Titans Together!

The engine of Masa's bike roared intensely as he sped down one of Jump City's main avenues. The streets were clogged with frantic civilians, abandoned cars, and of course low-flying alien spacecraft. Masa's eyes widened as he turned a corner, finding this new track of tarmac even more crowded than the last with nearly twice as many obstacles as the street he'd just turned off of. Clenching his teeth and biting down hard on his toothpick, Masa summons his guardian by name. "Locomotive Breath!" he shouts quickly, bringing forth the ethereal being in front of his bike, floating above his front wheel. Without further command, the apparition begins to punch, kick and bat away any object before it can knock against Masa's ride. Confident in his guardian's ability, Masa picks up the speed, causing Locomotive Breath's actions to quicken in turn. Now letting loose a wild fury of blows, Locomotive Breath pummels anything in the way, out of the way, sending cars and civilians alike flying to the side.

Terra Incognita ( Fantasy Colonial RP )

Accepted, a butcher may actually prove useful in the course of the roleplay.

Terra Incognita ( Fantasy Colonial RP )

Accepted, I'm going to say if we get a few more characters in the mix then I'll throw up an IC.