Lord Wraith

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no one has gone before!

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

T H E P A C I F I C R O Y A L C O L L E G I A T E & U N I V E R S I T Y
T H E P A C I F I C R O Y A L C O L L E G I A T E & U N I V E R S I T Y

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E L E C T R I C B O O G A L O O
E L E C T R I C B O O G A L O O

C O N C E P T:
C O N C E P T:

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Pacific Royal Collegiate & University is a roleplay set in an alternate history where an unprecedented coronal mass ejection led to a global blackout in 1967 that resulted in a fraction of the population developing extranormal abilities. This roleplay focuses on a group of these 'Hyperhumans' and their adventures at the titular school.

You will be playing a new student who is coming to Pacific Royal Collegiate & University for the first time. Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, or P.R.C.U. for short, is an exclusive institution to Hyperhumans located off the Western coast of Canada. Throughout the story, your character will be given chances to grow, develop and ultimately unravel various plots, happenings and even mysteries going on around the school, and its immediate partners.

Ju-V

After what was a rather humiliating first impression, the small otter turned around to see if anyone else was watching him before making another attempt at climbing into the bus seat. Claws tore into the leather, but the attempt was successful. Plopping down triumphantly on, Holt tucked his tail around beside his spread legs before reaching into the pocket on his chest and producing a small iPod classic. While he could manage touch screens with the otter claws, they tended to get too scratched up. The iPod Classic on the other hand, while possessing a small screen, though aptly otter sized, also possessed an actual tactile interface meaning small claws could improvise a method of using the device. As nice as the iPod was, Holt would have killed for pants. The thick fur coat only hid so much and it wasn't like he was proud to go around hanging dong for the world to see. In this form, there wasn't exactly a lot to be proud of. So yeah, pants would have been a welcome change. His claws were personally crossed for an orange jumpsuit. Orange was definitely in right now. As for the others, Holt couldn't really care less. He knew what the usual reactions to him were, a pet, a pity party, utter confusion. There was no doubt he was just being shipped off to more of the same. It wasn't like he intended to be trapped in this form. Everything had just happened so fast. The gunshot. The crowd. The kid. The enclosure. "Ok. What. The. Fuck?" And there it was. "<Hey!>" Holt suddenly squeaked from his seat, perking up to look around at the eclectic group. "<Can any of you superfreaks speak otter?>" The question was only met with silence. "<I'd settle for weasel at this point, stoat even? If I had to, I could probably manage a little rat. At least one of you has got to be a rat.>" Still nothing, just a few bug-eyed stares as meaningless chirps came from the small mammal. Shrugging, or at least approximating the gesture with what mobility was afforded to him, Holt sunk back into his seat and returned to his music. "<Hey, me again! Can I smoke in here?>" The otter asked, standing up on the bus seat. "<Silence is compliance, peeps.>" He chattered, reaching once again into the little fur poach and producing a cigarette case, complete with a lighter inside. "No one is going to say anything? What, does the zoo let out its animals on field trips?" "<'Sup with'choo, Sugartits?>" Holt asked between drags, nodding his furry chin towards one of the blonde Yorker who had earlier addressed his arrival with an unnecessary expletive. It wasn't like he could drive himself, everyone takes the bus on this trip. With the bus coming to a halt, they all filed off. Holt made his way to exit, the girl with the wings letting the otter off in front of her with a smile. "<Thanks, Wings, much appreciated.>" The trip across on the ferry was uneventful. Holt had wanted to go and do his best 'Titanic' on the bow but got the impression he wasn't allowed to leave his seat. He opted inside to wiggle in place, moving about to his music as obnoxiously as he could without meeting the end of a baton. Exiting the vessel, Holt made his way inside with the others. His chest pocket was thoroughly violated as he was relieved of his belongings. "<At least buy me dinner before you finger my pocket.>" He chattered before pushing his way to the front of the small group. “Fuck you very much, Mister Warden. Shit. I meant ‘thank you.’ Thank you very much, Mister Fuckden.” Sugartits looked like she was gearing up for a fight. Holt on the other hand let out a sort of chortle, making a small fist and holding out towards Rex while "<Give me some skin my dude, frikkin' got'em.>"

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

After what was a rather humiliating first impression, the small otter turned around to see if anyone else was watching him before making another attempt at climbing into the bus seat. Claws tore into the leather, but the attempt was successful. Plopping down triumphantly on, Holt tucked his tail around beside his spread legs before reaching into the pocket on his chest and producing a small iPod classic. While he could manage touch screens with the otter claws, they tended to get too scratched up. The iPod Classic on the other hand, while possessing a small screen, though aptly otter sized, also possessed an actual tactile interface meaning small claws could improvise a method of using the device.

As nice as the iPod was, Holt would have killed for pants. The thick fur coat only hid so much and it wasn't like he was proud to go around hanging dong for the world to see. In this form, there wasn't exactly a lot to be proud of. So yeah, pants would have been a welcome change.

His claws were personally crossed for an orange jumpsuit. Orange was definitely in right now.

As for the others, Holt couldn't really care less. He knew what the usual reactions to him were, a pet, a pity party, utter confusion. There was no doubt he was just being shipped off to more of the same. It wasn't like he intended to be trapped in this form. Everything had just happened so fast.

The gunshot.

The crowd.

The kid.

The enclosure.

"Ok. What. The. Fuck?"

And there it was.

"<Hey!>" Holt suddenly squeaked from his seat, perking up to look around at the eclectic group. "<Can any of you superfreaks speak otter?>"

The question was only met with silence.

"<I'd settle for weasel at this point, stoat even? If I had to, I could probably manage a little rat. At least one of you has got to be a rat.>"

Still nothing, just a few bug-eyed stares as meaningless chirps came from the small mammal. Shrugging, or at least approximating the gesture with what mobility was afforded to him, Holt sunk back into his seat and returned to his music.

"<Hey, me again! Can I smoke in here?>" The otter asked, standing up on the bus seat.

"<Silence is compliance, peeps.>" He chattered, reaching once again into the little fur poach and producing a cigarette case, complete with a lighter inside.

"No one is going to say anything? What, does the zoo let out its animals on field trips?"

"<'Sup with'choo, Sugartits?>" Holt asked between drags, nodding his furry chin towards one of the blonde Yorker who had earlier addressed his arrival with an unnecessary expletive. It wasn't like he could drive himself, everyone takes the bus on this trip.

With the bus coming to a halt, they all filed off. Holt made his way to exit, the girl with the wings letting the otter off in front of her with a smile.

"<Thanks, Wings, much appreciated.>"

The trip across on the ferry was uneventful. Holt had wanted to go and do his best 'Titanic' on the bow but got the impression he wasn't allowed to leave his seat. He opted inside to wiggle in place, moving about to his music as obnoxiously as he could without meeting the end of a baton.

Exiting the vessel, Holt made his way inside with the others. His chest pocket was thoroughly violated as he was relieved of his belongings.

"<At least buy me dinner before you finger my pocket.>" He chattered before pushing his way to the front of the small group.

“Fuck you very much, Mister Warden. Shit. I meant ‘thank you.’ Thank you very much, Mister Fuckden.”

Sugartits looked like she was gearing up for a fight. Holt on the other hand let out a sort of chortle, making a small fist and holding out towards Rex while

"<Give me some skin my dude, frikkin' got'em.>"

Ju-V

Withdrawn

S U B J E C T X J - 9 - 4 7 2

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^{H O L T W A T E R S ◼ 2 0 0 2 - 0 1 - 2 1 ( 2 1 ) ◼ M A L E}

^"<TRILL>?"

▼ A P P E A R A N C E:

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^"<CHIRP>"

//STATS:

◼ HEIGHT | 3' - 6"

◼ WEIGHT | 25LBS

◼ BUILD | Mustelidae

◼ HAIR COLOUR | Fur, primarily brown.

◼ EYE COLOUR | Dark brown, nearly black.

◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | #2A7EB0

◼ OTHER | Like all otters, Holt has a flesh pocket on his chest.

//DESCRIPTION:

Holt appears as North American River Otter per the above information.

▼ B I O G R A P H Y:

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^"<GROWL>"

Holt Waters was an average boy leading a rather ordinary life until one day he went missing and, in his stead, appeared an otter. The otter had all of Holt's mannerisms, appetites and quirks, though could only communicate through chirps, trills, growls and a rudimentary form of sign language.

With no understanding of what had happened to Holt, his parents were left with no choice but to surrender Holt to the Junior Vigilante Programme at the Aegis Centre for Metahuman Rehabilitation in hopes that the minds there would be able to find a way to reverse Holt's predicament and return him to his original form.

It'd be nice if Aegis actually had Holt's best interests in mind.

▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:

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^{"<TAIL SLAP>"}

When first coming into the care of Aegis, Holt had high hopes for a 'cure'. As the years went by, he became more invested in not being used as a tool by the organization and instead has begun to focus all of his efforts on finding a way to escape.

▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:

---

^{"<EXCITED SCURRYING>"}

//ABILITIES:

◼ TRANSFERABLE CONSCIOUSNESS | Holt has the ability to transfer their consciousness, memories, motor skills, essentially everything that makes them, them into any living being. This process requires physical touch, and once done, Holt's consciousness basically hijacks the host's own for a duration of time depending on the willpower of the host. A weaker willpower leads to total domination while a stronger-willed individual will be able to reject the transfer in anywhere from minutes to seconds essentially.

//SKILLS:

◼ SWIMMING | Due to his form, Holt has a natural aptitude for swimming.

//LIMITATIONS:

◼ COMMUNICATION | Holt is unable to speak as a human, and instead must communicate via rudimentary sign language and otherwise gesturing with the limiting mobility of his otter body.

//WEAKNESSES:

◼ EMPTY SHELL | While Holt's ability is active, their original body is left an empty shell. This leaves it in an empty, essentially comatose state. Should the body be lost or destroyed, Holt would be trapped in his last transferred body. Should that body be able to reject Holt, it's reasonable to assume he'd simply cease to exist, joining his body where ever and in whatever state it's in.

▼ N O T E S:

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To Be Added At A Later Date...

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Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

𝙴𝚇𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽

Even if I don't end up applying, this has been the most fun I've had with an Interest Check in a long time. Learned some new coding tricks and got to work through puzzles.

Basically an escape room before the RP.

Definitely feeling pushed creatively moving forward.

@Number One

What they said.

Ju-V

SUBJECT XJ-9-472

S U B J E C T X J - 9 - 4 7 2

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^{H O L T W A T E R S ◼ 2 0 0 2 - 0 1 - 2 1 ( 2 1 ) ◼ M A L E}

^"<TRILL>?"

▼ A P P E A R A N C E:

---

^"<CHIRP>"

//STATS:

◼ HEIGHT | 3' - 6"

◼ WEIGHT | 25LBS

◼ BUILD | Mustelidae

◼ HAIR COLOUR | Fur, primarily brown.

◼ EYE COLOUR | Dark brown, nearly black.

◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | #2A7EB0

◼ OTHER | Like all otters, Holt has a flesh pocket on his chest.

//DESCRIPTION:

Holt appears as North American River Otter per the above information.

▼ B I O G R A P H Y:

---

^"<GROWL>"

Holt Waters was an average boy leading a rather ordinary life until one day he went missing and, in his stead, appeared an otter. The otter had all of Holt's mannerisms, appetites and quirks, though could only communicate through chirps, trills, growls and a rudimentary form of sign language.

With no understanding of what had happened to Holt, his parents were left with no choice but to surrender Holt to the Junior Vigilante Programme at the Aegis Centre for Metahuman Rehabilitation in hopes that the minds there would be able to find a way to reverse Holt's predicament and return him to his original form.

It'd be nice if Aegis actually had Holt's best interests in mind.

▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:

---

^{"<TAIL SLAP>"}

When first coming into the care of Aegis, Holt had high hopes for a 'cure'. As the years went by, he became more invested in not being used as a tool by the organization and instead has begun to focus all of his efforts on finding a way to escape.

▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:

---

^{"<EXCITED SCURRYING>"}

//ABILITIES:

◼ TRANSFERABLE CONSCIOUSNESS | Holt has the ability to transfer their consciousness, memories, motor skills, essentially everything that makes them, them into any living being. This process requires physical touch, and once done, Holt's consciousness basically hijacks the host's own for a duration of time depending on the willpower of the host. A weaker willpower leads to total domination while a stronger-willed individual will be able to reject the transfer in anywhere from minutes to seconds essentially.

//SKILLS:

◼ SWIMMING | Due to his form, Holt has a natural aptitude for swimming.

//LIMITATIONS:

◼ COMMUNICATION | Holt is unable to speak as a human, and instead must communicate via rudimentary sign language and otherwise gesturing with the limiting mobility of his otter body.

//WEAKNESSES:

◼ EMPTY SHELL | While Holt's ability is active, their original body is left an empty shell. This leaves it in an empty, essentially comatose state. Should the body be lost or destroyed, Holt would be trapped in his last transferred body. Should that body be able to reject Holt, it's reasonable to assume he'd simply cease to exist, joining his body where ever and in whatever state it's in.

▼ N O T E S:

---

To Be Added At A Later Date...

---

Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - [CLOSED]

I'm probably too lazy to go back and add it in myself (besides I still haven't updated my sheets with the House/Team sections), but I imagine someone in the RP will find use of it.

@Kuro

My sheet has both of the above.

It's still incomplete in every other way lol.

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

But I am a kind god, and I want to extend the gift of this power to each and every one of you. Some of you may not survive the process, but for those that do, you are the future of humanity. You are the chosen ones, you are the true children of Hyperion.

Malcolm Withers, Right Hand to Hyperion, quiet reserved man, very cold and calculating. Has the Hyperhuman ability to both kill/heal cells. Has a budding rivalry with Autumn Miracle due to Hyperion's perceived favouritism to her.