MelonHead

A Little East in the West, Shin Hunts his First Weapon

Well, that would have been darn unfortunate. Some darn tootin’ outlaw done taken the storekeeper hostage. Shame Jonah had been around too long, gone past caring for the everyday man. Je wasn’t no hero of this story. He was just another bastard in the West. Not above shooting the hell outta both hostage and man if that was the way it played, and not a damn thing would be said about it. The Tired Gun, for his part, had emptied Mistress into his hand, the rounds sequestered away in his palm, keeping her nice and empty for what he had in mind.

He’d emptied those rounds lickety split, the second that crazed bastard outside started talkin’ in fact. It’d only taken him a sec, and the next moment he was levelling it directly through the damn wall right at the voice outside. The words came from the head after all (so to speak), so long as he aimed straight (and he always did) they’d carry on their merry way right into the pretty little bastard he wanted dead. Course, one might question how he, the Tired Gun, planned to fire said bullet through a wood wall reliably with no rounds in his damn gun. The answer was simple, and no, he wasn’t planning to use Spouse instead. It was Mistress, seemingly blurry to the eye, which filled with a black smoke. Shadow, if you will.

He fired, many a time, the shadowy rounds carrying right through the wood wall with nary a moment’s pause and right on through to the thorough-fare, where Shin was just concluding his little speech. Only a couple of the six shots were actually on target, two were wide, two were actually going to slam home in the hostage and spill his guts on the ground, potentially going through. But those two on target were deadly indeed, heading right for the mask, a mask which would find itself offering little protection against the shadowy bullets heading for it. The only saving grace was that they lacked the stopping power of an ordinary bullet, even if they hit the head dead centre death was not an inevitability. It’d still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch though.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

(Thanks to NMS for the banner!)
X23

The scorched plain was marked with an amber hue that gave the view before him a visage of hovering on the cusp of perpetual sunset. Long grass-like flora swayed in the breeze, their stems marked with lilac rings that caught the light in such a way as to make it seem as if the flowers had not succumbed to the lengthy drought. Yet they had, only the hardy straw-like plants survived beneath that amber sky, fed by the light of a dying star, a star which was hell bent on taking the planet and all life upon it with it into darkness.

But not before briefly housing an abomination in every sense of the word. Sakakt it was named, the thing which eats in the old tongue. The last of its kind, by his reckoning, but it had to end here. If left alone Sakakt showed a resilience and an ability to procreate in even the most unsuitable of locations, like it had found itself on this dry, gasping planet. That was why he had come, or been sent some might say. There was a creature on this planet that posed an unnatural and extra-terrestrial threat to what meagre life remained here, and if by some chance it or any of its spawn found itself transported to a livelier planet? Well, it would wipe out all that life, replacing it with its own malformed progeny. It was in destroying the last great infestation that his predecessor had lost her life, and vacated the position of Hunter. Now he adopted the mantle Hunter, and he had a Sakakt to hunt.

The Hunter abandoned the precipice on which he surveyed the vast emptiness around him. It had only taken him a few moments to spot what he was looking for, and spending any additional time to take in the breath-taking beauty of the view would have been a dereliction of duty. Below him, and perhaps half a mile north east, there was a small (from that distance) furrow in the grass. The lilac coloured tips had not waved in the breeze, but been crushed to the ground by something of size and weight. It could only be one thing that made that indent, a creature much larger than any that naturally made their home here on X23, the humble designation of a planet which had been the birthplace of a great empire almost a million years before.

The metallic carapace which surrounded him reacted to his movements, and with a burst of speed he first ran and then leapt, carrying himself high into the open air. It took him just four short seconds to fall to the ground below, hydraulics compensating with a tell-tale sound that immediately followed the steely thump of metal coming to a sudden stop. His helmeted head shot up and the HUD displayed information, most of it useless, which he chose to disregard as he once again pushed off the ground in that forceful fashion which saw him hit ridiculous speeds in only a few strides. It was these speeds, mastered by the technology of the Galactic Republic, which would carry the armoured Hunter towards his quarry.

He slowed at six hundred meters, stopped at five hundred, his bulky form none-the-less finding cover within the waving grasses as he began to stalk closer to the place where the creature lay. Briefly he engaged his interface and suddenly the dark blue and black figure he made blurred into its surroundings. He had activated some form of optical camouflage, for what good it would do. The creature he sought used other senses more prominently than its eyes, hopefully his armour would serve in fooling the rest. Beneath his armour, the grey face of Hunter had creased into something akin to a stern frown, his large eyes were fixed firmly forward and he engaged his own senses as best he could. Hearing, especially, amplified by the suit to pick up even the slightest of disturbances. Unfortunately the rushing of the wind seemed adverse to his purpose, blanketing out the quieter sounds he expected to hear should the Sakakt become aware of his presence.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he reached for the weapon holstered by magnetic locks on his back. It was a bulky looking thing, a rectangular object with handles that made it not look that dissimilar from a cumbersome rifle. Unfortunately as it left its place on its back it became far more visible, its own camouflage technology insufficient to conceal it when not contained on the mag-holster. It was an unfortunate consequence of carrying more powerful ordinance on mission. Still, Hunter was glad of it, clutched between his two gauntleted hands. It fired ballistic ammunition and explosive ordinance, and lots of it. An electric weapon, it could put exactly six hundred rounds down-range within two seconds if the user so desired, and he did. No matter that the magazine would be expended in that exact same time frame, and that he only carried two spares. Saturation of fire was key in bringing down a Sakakt, for reasons that would soon become apparent.

First though he had to reach it without alerting it to his presence. Hunter crept ever forward, his senses burning with a slight unease. It was not like him to second guess himself, but he found himself wondering if a creature as cunning as the Sakakt could have made such a basic mistake in attempting to hide itself. Of course, it was not necessarily aware of the advantages he had in spotting the indent it had created, but even a primitive could have identified its location if it happened upon the area it lay. Hunter was about as far from a primitive as one could stray, while still resorting to slaughter in order to resolve problems. So why was he so uneasy? It was simple, the Sakakt was capable of a low cunning, and it might very well be employing it. As was often the case with this iteration of Hunter, his almost supernatural intuition was dead on the money. Perhaps it was why he was the longest serving in almost nine Earth decades.

The wind dropped, and in that moment the sound of a careful, yet deliberate, footfall rang in his ears. The grass had been crushed underfoot by a great weight, and it was close, oh so close. He span, standing suddenly, abandoning stealth in favour of being able to hit his target, his camoflague melting away due to the quickness of the movement. It seemed as if he grew out of the undergrowth, rifle in hand, swinging around to meet that sound. The creature knew the game was up, it leapt, its gruesome form suddenly meeting the light of day. Bowed back sprouting tendril like appendages that whipped back and forth, sickly green flesh marked by decay, its hound-like face wrought back in a vicious snarl. Two of its six legs were outstretched, reaching for him, claws ready to tear him asunder. He fired, rounds saturating the air. Hundreds in milliseconds, so much fire, plunging into tough hide, tearing apart those lashing tentacles, brutalising the creature’s exposed chest. It fell upon him, and their collision was catastrophic. They tumbled and flew through the air, his weapon lost in the chaos, bouncing across the ground and back up for a good fifty yards. There was a neat furrow in the wavy grass marking their journey. Hunter struggled, claws were cutting into his armour, tendrils wrapping around his arms and legs, he launched blow after blow into the creature’s rib cage as they tumbled together.

Then, they stopped. Their momentum was spent but their fight was far from over. With a herculean effort, aided more than a little by the alien material grafted into his suit, Hunter kicked the creature off him and crawled backwards. He had a moment to take stock as it licked its wounds, and it had many. While the external shell of his armour was a ruin he had escaped unscathed. The Sakakt had not been so fortunate. His initial barrage had cut it open badly as it bled dark blood into the soil, to be greedily absorbed by the starved flora. It was not done though. Both of them knew that they had reached an impasse of sorts, only one would survive this encounter. Hunter drew his pistol as the thing sped toward him, zig zagging through grass which partially obscured its grotesque form. He fired twice to either side of the creature, firing metallic projectiles that stuck into the earth. Before it was upon him he unloaded the clip, firing every mag-round he had into its hide, activating the attraction. The magnetic projectiles clung to one another, threatening to yank the creature off its feet. It pushed on, growling and shrieking in pain.

“Ssaalor.”

Enough.

Hunter charged, glistening baton in hand, its edge alight with burning heat. There was no restriction on it, it burned as hotly as it could, so hot that it would not last. The candle that burns twice as hot burns half as long, but half would be enough.

Hunter set upon it. There was no clean piercing blow to its heart, he hacked it with reckless abandon. First its eye, then its leg, its tendrils, its back, its organs, its chest, its maw, its tongue. Blood and burned flesh spread across the field as it screamed and screeched, his dark blue armour grew saturated with black blood. Then, finally, there was a finishing blow. The Sakakt had been killed by Hunter.

“Shalas ossa sill saorplaas.”

This hunt is complete.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Springtime is the time for Growth

It had been a busy time for Lekh. His first spring in America was not a quiet one. The Syndicate was a hive of activity bubbling under its calm exterior, with everything slowly returning to normality after the recent meta-human crisis opportunity for crime was writhe. Luckily he was not adverse to hard work. Because he was working double time. With every task he completed in the name of his new faction, climbing the ranks quickly after his vital role in the unfortunately unsuccessful kidnapping, he carried out two jobs to further his own aims. Stealing valuable items to fund his varied projects even as his privately hired researchers worked tirelessly over the blood sample he had stolen from Ms Desdemona. However, even outside of this not so secret and painfully secret activity respectively, he carved out a small but not insignificant part of the Syndicate for himself. It was not an obvious thing, nor an official one, but some of the Shroud’s membership in Lost Haven hesitated when deciding on who they would report a tid-bit to. Their loyalties were certainly to the Cowl, but for many he was little more than an idea, a figurehead of sorts. Silence was real, and he impressed many of them, scared some more, in the rest he invoked their ire. As was the way in the criminal world, some will always hate you, but Silence dealt with the more outspoken personally, and seemingly not so many were outspoken any more. All the while they drifted around him, spoke about him, listened to him. He made many of them far richer than they had been before, and when all else failed, money would often talk.

Silence was not a fool, and so he knew all too well that the Cowl would have become aware of some of his manoeuvrings. For most of spring however his activity was hardly unusual, in fact, in a dog-eat dog world like that of the Syndicate it was almost encouraged to take control of what one can. Most of the local bosses still maintained their mentalities from before their streets became a creeping and very illicit organisation. Kill or be killed, gather men and women and even children around you and have them prop you up above the rest, just high enough to keep your head out of the water, but not so high that it gets cut off. It was only as spring drew to a close and the days grew so long as to seem never ending that the activities of Silence had grown unusual. Even to someone as intelligent as the Cowl. It was almost as if he was siphoning off the man power from the lower levels of criminality in Lost Haven, exploiting their discontent and their own inability to rise naturally. If he was to be measured against the local bosses, Silence had stepped just a little above them all. He was peaking over a precipice that few before him had reached, but he chose to teeter there. If he had ill intentions, he had shown none save for that gathering of power. His men stepped to in order to fulfil the wishes of the higher ups just as quickly as they had before they began to question who they saw when they thought of the Cowl. But undeniably, as spring gave way to summer, Silence had carved out a faction of his own within the Syndicate in Lost Haven. The real question was what he wished to do with it.

Spirits in Summer

Present Day: Eden (Lost Haven)

“You do forgive me don’t you?”

“Of course, I have already said as much before, Brat.” The cold-faced criminal who had risen so quickly through the ranks forgave his blood easily, lapsing in and out of his native tongue as they were want to do in conversation.

“Because you know I do feel bad about ratting on you, you know?” His brother’s words were only slightly slurred, but for a Pole, that was no mean feat. The half bottle of vodka across the table between them in Adrian’s lavish office was obviously responsible for that. Adrian was apologizing again for what he told the Cowl when Lekh had first arrived, as he had almost every time the brothers had spoken in the last few months.

“Adrian, I would have done the same in your position, do you understand?” He lied, not for the first time.

“Yes, yes of course, anyway, tell me about this plan of yours.” Adrian always acquiesced a little too quickly, it gave his game away. He was not as drunk as he seemed, nor as innocent.

“I have already spoken to you about this, Brat, you must understand that I cannot afford to divulge too many of my secrets at one time.” He frowned apologetically. “Though I can tell you that I intend to make something of a move on certain, ‘aquatic’ holdings in the following weeks.” He lied of course, fully aware that his words would see their merry way back to Adrian’s supervisor, the very same woman who had introduced Lekh to the Syndicate just a few months ago. “Anyway, I am not here for business. I am here to drink with my brother and speak of old times, cliché as it may be.”

Now it was Adrian’s turn to frown, he did not like to think back to his time in Poland, growing up in Lekh’s shadow, the one with the talent for the family ‘gift.’ The good older brother, the heir as it was, and the talentless younger brother who abandoned his duties. He filled up a shot glass and drank it down, gritting his teeth and letting the familiar burn run its course.

The hour grew late, though it was not a club night fortunately. The Brothers had waxed political over current affairs, spoken of the ills that beset the homeland, and even talked of their Father a little. But now, it was time to go. Lekh pressed his hands atop the table to leave, as was his way he often chose to abruptly stand before making his goodbyes. As he did so, the sleeve of his fashionable jacket rode up, revealing his right hand fully for just a moment. Marked there was a red thumb print, though it was not obviously so it was still distinct and drew the eyes of his Brother.

“What’s that, Bro? You don’t have a birthmark there, not that I can remember anyway.” Adrian looked at it bemused, and Silence bit back a curse, letting his sleeve fall down and calmly waving away the remark.

“Paint, I believe. I had cause to dabble in some impromptu art just last night, apparently I missed a stubborn spot.”

“Right.” Disbelief, but the importance of such a trifling thing hardly warranted further pressing of his older brother.

“Brother.” His voice was serious then, and he flittered into his native tongue for his parting remarks. “You should return to Poland, you should see her." Adrian’s eyes grew cold at Lekh's words, but he did not reply.

“Anyway, I will be off now. Until the next time we meet, Brother, do widzenia.”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

@MelonHead: That's also what the intro in the IC is for.

@Dedonus

Doesn't actually mention Natural Selection, the other major event. It was low level, but it still had impact in the form of power-suppressants. I wouldn't have thought that would have gone under the radar.

I just worry for new people who don't necessarily want to get mixed up in the S1 stuff, it's easy to just do a 'these are all the important things that carry over look at these' section here and leave heavy delving for people who are up for it.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

@MelonHead You can just follow the link to the S1 thread that had the summaries.

@Dedonus

That doesn't really give me any insight into how the arcs conclusions were felt during the timeskip, in other words, incredibly poignant information I need to know from the onset of S2. That's just my take on it though.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

<Snipped quote by MelonHead>

The need to know events is a season by season section. As we just started this season, it's empty. There is a link to the 1st season, so if you need to look at need to knows from then, it's easily accessible

@nitemare shape

Why?

Seems like the need to know section should just include things people need to know, at the bare minimum the outcome of the two major arcs that finished in the first season, followed by the ramifications of the arc resolutions during the time skip. Unless absolutely nothing happened off the back of those two events?

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

We're definitely going to need some updates on the need to know events section.

I'll probably be recording my own character's interactions in the CS deposit as well.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Hunter

Alien Policeman

Codename: Hunter

Real Name: Redacted

Species: Redacted

Age: 44 (Earth years)

Appearance:

Armour

Outside Armour

Beneath his armour, Hunter is a tall moderately well-built humanoid, he has two front facing eyes, dark grey skin and no hair. His ears are slightly pointed but he otherwise has very similar appendages to a human, except for his feet, which are webbed and made of four splayed toes. Internally he has organs that carry out pretty similar actions to a humans. His appearance is somewhat variable, as his species do have the ability to slightly alter their facial structure to mimic that of other species.

Speech Colour: Dodgerblue

Character Alignment: Hero (Self-Perception)

Identity: Unknown

Character Personality: Uncompromising, protector of the weak, scourge of the unjust and the unnatural. Compassionate for those who cannot protect themselves, but capable of acts of perceived cruelty by human standards, utilitarian would be the best description. Arrogant and prideful at his worst, noble and protective at his best.

Uniform/costume: GRP Specialist Uniform/Power Armour

Origin Info/Details: Hunter is a member of the Galactic Republic’s Peacekeeper organisation, which serves as an internal police force, secret service, counter intelligence, and pretty much all other forms of internal policing. His species are one of the many that claim membership of a galaxy wide republic within which Earth exists unknowingly. Many planets like Earth are left untouched by the Republic due to their status as a T0 borderline T1 civilisation. They usually make contact at mid T1 to T2.

As part of GRP Specialist branch, Hunter plays a unique role in that he, unsurprisingly, hunts down dangerous extra-terrestrial creatures or criminals. There is always one active Hunter, when the previous Hunter retires either by choice or by circumstance, they are replaced. He is put to work particularly when the extra-terrestrials in question are playing havoc with a civilisation incapable of dealing with them. He essentially mops up mistakes and tries to protect species like Humanity from monstrosities, not to mention quarantining diseases and infections. Earth has recently drawn the attention of the GRP due to an influx of mutated individuals and reports of extra-terrestrials breaking the rules, essentially. He’s been sent to investigate the situation and to act at his own discretion, which is usually bad news for anyone being naughty, to put things lightly.

As will be elaborated on, part of Hunter’s job is to eliminate threats without indigenous people’s recording its or his existence. In the past this was easier, many myths and legends are based off the exploits of his predecessor. George and the Dragon? Not exactly a Dragon, try mutated and very dangerous experiment that found itself discarded on Earth by a megalomaniac space pirate. Just one of many, not every myth of course, but Hunter is not the first of his profession to find themselves on Earth. However, they also have to deal with advanced societies with instant transmission of information, social media is not a phenomenon known only to Earth. He has the tools to deal with it to prevent society being changed unduly by the existence of aliens.

Hero Type (Select one):

Alien Technology/Cyborg

Power Level (Select one below):
C. World Level

Powers (Be Specific): GRP Tech

GRP Specialist Power Armour: GRP Power Armour essentially allows the user to overcome biological restrictions on strength, speed and durability. Though by no means impervious to damage, the armour can completely negate small arms fire and significantly dampen even heavy munition, it can even resist low temperatures, though it struggles with higher temperatures and the user can find themselves suffering from heat stroke if they remain within temperatures over 1000 degrees Celsius for longer than a minute. The suit is insulated from electricity and can reboot from hard shutdowns and EMPs once per minute, roughly. It can also self-repair using a finite amount of resources. Finally, it offers Short Jets which are essentially thrusters on the back of the armour which allow vertical and horizontal flight for short periods, usually between two to four minutes before a half hour recharge is required. Hunter’s armour is unique in that it comes equipped with optical camouflage, which allows him to become almost completely invisible while still, and around 80% transparent while moving at speed for periods similar to the Short Jets. They drain the same battery and share the same recharge. The suit also comes equipped with a HUD system and optical vision modes such as thermal, night vision and even limited sonar/electric vision, air filtration, shock dampeners, sound and light restrictors (preventing him being deafened or blinded by sudden overloads, though shockwaves can still hurt him and bright enough lights over sustained periods will just shut down optics completely.) There are plenty of additional functions that one would expect from a combat ready suit, it can adapt to a wide range of effects due to its specific usage.

Cybernetic Implants: Besides the Power Armour, Hunter is equipped with three implants which allow him to carry out certain actions even without the use of his armour.

Neural: The implant which accounts for his increased reflexes, his neural implant sends nervous impulses into overdrive, particularly in high stress situations, allowing to react at record speed.

Anti-Psionic: The implant which protects him from telepaths and the like, though only a rudimentary protection. It prevents his mind being read too easily, his actions being controlled, being possessed or tricked by illusion. The implant is fallible however, if placed under undue pressure it loses effectiveness over time. It provides reliable protection for about twenty seconds, so Hunter has to deal with the threat quickly.

Optical: Coupled with the neural implant, this allows his eyes to take in information at an advanced rate. He can also swap into a low-light vision mode, though for any other special type of sight he needs his power armour.

Biological: Hunter’s species can alter their facial structures to mimic that of other species, though he seldom uses this, he could in theory make himself look like a bald human, albeit with very unusual eyes and bone structure.

Weaponry: Hunter has access to an excessive amount of weapons. One only has to look at the variety of different ways humanity has found to kill each other to understand how large a galactic wide reservoir of weaponry would be. It would take too long to describe them all, but there are some he carries on his person at all times:

Mag-Tech Handgun: Similar in essence to a pistol, the advanced mechanism in this ten-shot firearm is its ability to fire both regular, sedative and magnetic ammunition. Regular ammunition is .50 calibre, the magnetic ammunition fires non-lethal rounds that stick to metallic surfaces and stick to its paired round. It is equipped with duel mags that allow for quick reloads. Sedative ammunition is what one might expect, tranquilizers of varying intensity that adjust for the mass and resistance of its target. The weapon cannot be fired by anyone but him, can be detonated at will and sticks resolutely to his palm and his side when he wishes it.

Energy Baton: An extendable baton that generates from a relatively small tube, the edge glows intensely and can generate extreme heat or sharp bursts of electricity, it is usually used in a non-lethal fashion.

Gadgets: Like his weapons, Hunter has access to a wide range of gadgets the like of which would make the average nerd break down and cry. Almost every effect one could desire for a multitude of different tactical situations can be manifested by technology at his disposal, in the immortal words of that one guy, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Some of his most common tools:

Dispersment Grenades: Doing exactly what one might expect, these innocuous objects can unleash either nauseating sound waves or noxious smells and gases that tend to cause by-passers to leave the area.

Incineration Grenades: More akin to drones, incineration grenades are used primarily to deal with infestations and other troublesome biological organisms, they can be directed using a GRP suit and detonate with varying degrees of high intensity flame and heat.

Grav-Locks: Thrown not unlike discus, the Grav-Lock is a disc which when activated can be launched at a fleeing quarry, on contact it wraps around them and generates an intense gravitational force that rapidly increases their mass, slowing them and eventually driving them to their knees. The Grav-Lock has been known to fail under extreme stress, physically powerful entities have overcome them or simply outlasted their limited battery.

Support: Hunter’s ability to requisition resources in the field in real time is arguably his greatest advantage over the monstrosities he combats. While having access to a wide range of street-level technology at a dime, such as transport, anti-personnel weaponry and other specialist gear, there are also two further levels of escalation if the situation demands it.

Kato: The penultimate escalation level, Kato is determined if a threat posed could realistically destroy the dominant species on a planet. It allows Hunter to access close fire support and orbital bombardment, glassing, and devastating hand-held weaponry.

Zeka: The final escalation level, Zeka is determined if a threat posed could realistically threaten the safety of the Galactic Republic. It allows Hunter to active a beacon in his armour that calls down a planet buster on his position. The operative is sacrificed when utilizing this weapon, so as to ensure it is not used lightly.

Attributes: Biological

Strength Level: Half Tonne
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 20mph
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 2
Agility: 5X
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Trained

Attributes: Power Armour

Strength Level: 30 tonnes dead-lift
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 150mph Sprint, 200mph Short Jets
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Nearly Infinite
Agility: 20X
Intelligence: Genius
Fighting Skill: Mastered

Resources: Large, bordering on extreme, depending on how much support he can requisition from the GRP. The limitation being his resources are off world, and obviously don’t include social connections and the like, as a stranger to Earth.

Weaknesses: Heavy dependence upon fallible technology, no natural superpowers besides a minor biological face change, weakness to certain super-power types.

Supporting Characters:
GRP Supervisor: Keia

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards: Sure

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Lekh Antol (Silence)

Character you have created: Lekh Antol

Alias: Silence

Speech Colour: bc8dbf

Character Alignment: Walking the Line (Leaning toward Villain)

Identity: Unknown

Age: Mid thirties

Appearance: Lekh’s family are marked by an unusual trait, or perhaps the opposite would be more accurate, they have incredibly nodescript features. Lekh is Caucasian and therefore fits in anywhere white people can move about without much notice. His hair is short and fairly neat and naturally brown, his eyes are naturally blue. He has an athletic build that disguises well as an average one under the right clothing, and stands at about 5ft 10”. However, one can expect Lekh to be using some form of disguise most of the time, so his appearance is probably the most variable thing about him.

Character Personality: Lekh is a master manipulator, but not the ostentatious type. He has learned that the best way to go about his business is anonymity, and it’s a very fine line to walk in order to be both likable but forgettable. Innately he is charismatic and assertive with borderline OCD and personality disorder. On the outside he’s exactly what he wants someone to see. He’s ultimately practical and not overly competitive, more likely to flee than fight if he deems the odds are against him. If one listens particularly carefully they may be able to place his accent, but he is also adept at emulating accents from TV.

Uniform/costume: Silence’s costume is ultimate disguises of all types, he has no consistent outfit or identifying costume.

Origin Info/Details: Silence is ‘fresh off the boat’ so to speak, born in Poland to a family of minor aristocrats/thieves his powers and abilities are inherited ones. For as long as his family’s history has been recorded they have always had their strange gift from the point of reaching manhood, though their skill at utilizing it has varied drastically. His father was particularly gifted, and Lekh’s abilities seem marked for greatness in their own right. The more criminal aspect of his people’s nature seems to also be a historic one, as far as records tell the first Antol was a thief first and aristocrat later, perhaps using his power to manipulate his way to success. The practice fell out of favour for some time, though as the family recently fell upon hard times in the last two centuries or so they transgressed to their criminal roots.

Hero Type (Select one): Psychic

Power Level (Select one below): Street Level

Powers (Be Specific): (Debilitating Aura) Surrounding Silence is a passive psychic aura of his own making that reaches out up to forty feet with concentration, albeit with more power closer to the source. This aura can never be completely contained, and has two main affects. On biological organisms, namely humans, it subtly weakens their mental capacity and physical attributes with more prominent affects at closer ranges for extended periods of time. In weaker willed individuals it can cause incredibly skewed decision making and forgetfulness, not unlike severe intoxication, and a slowing of reflexes and the like.

On technology of an electrical, circuitry or computerized functionality it causes significant failures, making these things unstable around Lekh. Electrical weapons like tazers may mis-fire, electromagnetic door locks may momentarily disable, and other destabilising affects. However, none of these affects are permanent, and only persist when in range of the aura.

Attributes (Select one at each category):

Strength Level: Peak Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Peak Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Peak Human
Agility: Peak Human
Intelligence: Genius
Senses: Peak Human
Fighting Skill: Trained

Resources: Average

Weaknesses: Human physicality and the sometimes cumbersome after-effects of his own powers preventing him using certain technology, it takes significant concentration for him to even drive or sit in a vehicle without screwing up the battery, though lower tech vehicles and the like tend to be more resistant to his aura.

Supporting Characters: Adrian Antol, Silence’s brother, less gifted with the family ‘Power’ but talented in his own ways, he’s younger than Lekh and already in Maine, he runs a nightclub in the French Quarter of Lost Haven.

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Hmm.

Playlist (Courtesy of DearTrickster): https://play.spotify.com/user/deartrickster/playlist/4MFH0tg1elb1PXy6yhornr?play=true&utm_source=open.spotify.com&utm_medium=open

Sample Post (Minimum Four paragraphs containing dialogue. As this is an Advanced Level game, Sample must also meet the RPG forum's minimum requirement of 12 lines. Only for first time applicants.):

The waves lapped softly against the hull of the trawler as it glided into the harbour in the early hours of the morning. There was an eerie quiet aboard, almost harkening back to the old tales of Ghost Ships sailing into harbour unmanned. In reality there was simply few awake at such an ungodly hour and the secondary purpose of the trawler was not one that would leave one wanting to attract attention with unnecessary fan-fare. The ship was one of many that offered a service to those dissatisfied with their lot in Europe without the means or perhaps the inclination to obtain valid entry into the ‘great’ U.S.A. There were perhaps ten of them stowed away in an empty supply room barely big enough for half their number, dozing or staring into nothingness with an uneasy yet somehow hopeful expression upon their faces. The Polish man who had conspicuously earned himself more space than any of the others in one corner fell into the former category.

The ship moored at one of the more inconspicuous docking points close to the French Quarter, which was coincidentally (or perhaps not) the place where the Polish traveller wished to go. He stood up suddenly, while those around him eyed him warily. They had been together too long, the man thought sardonically, even his mask had slipped in such close quarters for such an extended period. No matter, he would be unfortunate to see them again. To say he had packed light would be an understatement, the only clothes to his name were those adorning him, a full nike tracksuit. He did have a small backpack with some less than savoury bits and pieces and some mementoes, but for the most part he was painfully under-equipped. Still, it was well within his capacity to rectify that small issue.

He escaped any boarding official’s eye upon slipping out the docks, text-book evasion by all accounts. It seemed the scant research he had carried out on the journey using newspapers and the like had served him well already, though catching up with more current events was a must. Still, he could deal with that problem when he had his feet on the ground so to speak, which meant seeking out someone he’d rather not see. His brother.

A short taxi ride to the French Quarter’s strip was more than informative, though it cost the traveller quite the head-ache reining in his more intrusive abilities. He was aware the area had more metas than any other area by population, but they were almost common-place. He was moving around at a busy time for trouble, crime was rampant in areas where people intoxicated themselves and fights were frequent. He spotted two would be vigilantes dealing with criminal elements on his way to his brother’s nightclub which was somewhat ostentatiously named ‘Eden’, they seemed fairly competent to his as yet inexperienced eye, though manageable. Further observations were cut short however by the cab pulling up outside the club. The passenger’s lack of anything resembling American currency left him in a somewhat embarrassing situation for only a moment though. With practiced skill he unleashed his reined in power, saturating the driver in near nauseating waves of his psychic aura. He handed the man a Polish bill, nodding his thanks. The cabby looked at it with a frown, shrugged, and tucked it away. The man smiled.

The club was winding down as people filtered out into the early morn, unstable and sickly intoxicated. He had little trouble meandering his way through them, neither drawing attention to himself nor giving way at any point, an interesting and somewhat contradictory set of actions only possible because of his unique set of skills. He paid little attention to his surroundings, all the better to nonchalantly dismiss his brother’s achievements when he almost certainly asked his older brother his opinion of the place. What small glimpses he did take in were impressive though, a dancefloor that could easily hold a thousand people, perhaps more, lights and decorations of a tasteful and effortless class. His brother always did have a flair for the aesthetic.

Impressively the traveller made his way to the V.I.P lounge with no incidents, more notable perhaps because he was painfully under-dressed for the event and should have stuck out like a sore thumb. Even he had to admit to cheating a little bit to get this far. He knocked briskly on a solid oak door bearing the name ‘Adrian Smith, Owner’ and twisted open the door, finding it unlocked. It opened up into a plush office. The man couldn’t help noting it overlooked the dance floor, unsurprising, he thought sardonically. It seemed not much had changed, though the man behind the desk bore little resemblance to the young lad he had grown up with he recognised him immediately. Dressed in an impeccable purple suit with dyed black hair and gold rimmed sun-glasses, his brother was probably the gaudiest thing in the building. Those glasses were almost thrown from the man’s face in surprise as he took in the tired face of the man who had barged into his office.

“Lekh, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet your older brother, Adrian?” Lekh riposted with a fake smile, showing just a little too much canine and somehow managing to make his innocent reply condescending in the extreme. These things were not lost on the young man behind the desk, whose right hand seemed to stray by the drawer at his side, no doubt caressing a firearm.

“I asked you a question, how did you find me?”

“And now you have asked another. Question, that is.” Lekh replied in his amiable fashion that he knew infuriated the younger fierier Anton. Adrian looked ready to burst for a moment, before visibly calming down with a sigh through his teeth.

“Fine, whatever, what do you want?” He asked finally, getting to the real crux of their short conversation. Lekh smiled appreciatively, causing the veins on Adrian’s forehead to stand out, threatening to burst as he reined himself in again.

“Now we are getting somewhere are we not?” Lekh sat down on the side of the desk, ignoring a perfectly good chair so that he could look down on his slightly taller brother.

“Well?”

“Money, for now, couple thousand dollars should be fine. You can afford that can you not?”

“As you might have noticed I am doing pretty well for myself here, what did you think of the place?”

“The place? Oh you mean this club? So-so.”

“Dick.”

“So, the money?”

“If I give you a couple g’s you’ll fuck off?”

“Well, for a couple days maybe.”

“Deal.”

A Little East in the West, Shin Hunts his First Weapon

Yeah sounds about right