Light

://Crown of Eden [High-Casual]

I'm all good here. Just biting my nails in anticipation.

://Crown of Eden [High-Casual]

Geno

Race
Human

Sex
Male

Appearance

Image

Geno stands an even six feet tall, with an equally healthy posture. He is neither muscular nor lean, weighing in at 160lbs. He dresses casually in a blank t-shirt underneath a wind-breaker, and jeans with weather-proof boots. He wears gloves almost religiously, refusing to remove them even when inside or in warm environments.

Memory
Geno's only memory is fractured, split apart in flashes and moments of the picture that fail to piece it all together. Muted voices come from empty faces that rest on the shoulders of white-robed figures. Some flickering thoughts depict him in similar cloth, conversing with them but never recalling what was said. Others are dim, cramped, with eldritch and alien texts surrounding him. Each fragment is separate, but culminate in a final moment, a bright flash, voices silently shouting in pain and horror, and a searing sensation that stings his palms.

Other
Geno's palms are heavily scarred, in what looks to be combinations of burning, lacerations, and simply distortion of the skin. These marks are the only proof he has that his memories aren't some hallucination. Seeing or thinking of the damage to his hands brings forth the searing pain that stalks his memory.

://Crown of Eden [High-Casual]

CS

Geno

Race
Human

Sex
Male

Appearance

Image

Geno stands an even six feet tall, with an equally healthy posture. He is neither muscular nor lean, weighing in at 160lbs. He dresses casually in a blank t-shirt underneath a wind-breaker, and jeans with weather-proof boots. He wears gloves almost religiously, refusing to remove them even when inside or in warm environments.

Memory
Geno's only memory is fractured, split apart in flashes and moments of the picture that fail to piece it all together. Muted voices come from empty faces that rest on the shoulders of white-robed figures. Some flickering thoughts depict him in similar cloth, conversing with them but never recalling what was said. Others are dim, cramped, with eldritch and alien texts surrounding him. Each fragment is separate, but culminate in a final moment, a bright flash, voices silently shouting in pain and horror, and a searing sensation that stings his palms.

Other
Geno's palms are heavily scarred, in what looks to be combinations of burning, lacerations, and simply distortion of the skin. These marks are the only proof he has that his memories aren't some hallucination. Seeing or thinking of the damage to his hands brings forth the searing pain that stalks his memory.

://Crown of Eden [High-Casual]

This has been up for 2 days? Sorry I'm late, is there still room?

://Crown of Eden

Hope I'm not too late! I'm definitely interested in this. It seems like a large portion of my questions were asked by others / answered by you already, so I've not much else to say.

Ascension: A Monster's Tale

@Alupi
List this as "High Casual" then, and in your OP, make it clear that post length is not an issue, and proper grammar is mandatory, as well as adhering to your structure of character creation/advancement. Every GM has the right to make such claims, as every RP'er has the right to not play if such claims are not favorable to them.

Ascension: A Monster's Tale

Genetically Defective Centaur

@Banana

My sides are approaching light-speed.

Ascension: A Monster's Tale

Also a good FAQ would be discussing the technology level of this world, just so people don't try to make aliens or characters with guns if none of that exists in your game.

Ascension: A Monster's Tale

@Alupi
Jsyk I pm'd you with my CS.

Destiny: Scotophobia (accepting)

The intense midday sun accomplished little in its effort to batter Hadron-12 with a blinding radiance as he strolled through the city streets. The world of commoners was all too quaint, dwarfed by the scale of the Vanguard's tower, and the Traveler itself. Oddly enough, the Traveler did not cast a shadow over the city, as if the light of the sun shone through unimpaired. Perhaps it was the Traveler's own residue of light that illuminated the ground below it? Nevertheless, Hadron-12 stored such quandaries in his mind for later addressing.

Hadron-12's presence turned heads from the citizens as he made his way to the tower. Some waved or saluted him, a few called out in gratitude for his service, but most averted their eyes, returning to their mundane businesses. Each time a champion of the Darkness was put down, it was only a matter of time before the next rose. One would be mad to deny it, and the slaying of Oryx was no different. The Darkness loomed closer with each passing day, and tension rose with it. Hadron-12 kept his face forward, never deviating from his march to the tower.

By the time he reached his destination, the bright sun tired into a deep orange as it headed off to rest, giving the chromatic skyscraper a brass-like hue. Without hesitation, he headed inside.

"Greetings guardian," stated a tower drone. The humanoid shaped robots lacked the full sentience of the exos, but they were responsive enough, and often quite cheery. The drone in question began typing on a keyboard as it addressed Hadron-12. "Shall I prepare a shuttle for you?" it asked as he walked past. "No, thank you." he replied with the precision of a computer. He continued past the drone, reaching the base of the stairs that decorated the main lobby. His pace flowed up the stairs as his body flickered with a violet light, and by the time he would reach the top of the steps, he had blinked out of existence.

The blood-orange glow of the setting sun once again struck him as he overlooked the city from the tower's rooftop. With an about-face, he saw that the Vanguard was as packed as ever when he re-materialized. He made no hesitation resuming his march through the crowds of guardians, and descended the small stairs at the center of the courtyard. In a matter of seconds, he stood besides four other guardians as he awaited the Commander's orders. "Guardians," he greeted his now-obvious fireteam with a mechanical droll and a small nod before looking forward and standing at-attention.