Mictlan93

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Dominic was another character that I had a ton of fun with. Or rather, I had fun planning out his development. The way this superhero RP was played, was that our characters received a pair of powers, chosen at random by the GM. The abilities Dom received just so happened to pair up perfectly with his personality, and beyond that I played with the idea of a individual who wanted to save everyone, and suddenly woke up one day with the power to do just that. It...also may or may have not started driving him crazy. We never got far enough to explore that, unfortunately.

Dom Tate

Name: Dominic Salazar-Tate
Age: 21
Sex: Male

Appearance: Dominic stands at 6'0", at around 150 lbs. He possesses the body of a runner, a thin stature on an equally thin, fit frame. While he may've taken his father's size and physique, it was clear that his genes are dominated by his mother's side of the family. As such, he shares traits that give the two a close resemblance, including his mom's olive-tan skin, dark brown eyes, and black hair. His sense of fashion, however, was a result of joint meddling from both parents.

He tends to dress in a business-casual sort of way, tops consisting of slimming button-down dress shirts, ties, vests, sweaters, and the like. Bottoms usually fluctuate between jeans and hi-top sneakers, and slacks with shoes. He tends to stay clean shaven, and will shorten his hair whenever it gets too shaggy.

Personality: Dom is considered to be the determined, proactive type. Not afraid to make friends, not afraid to speak his mind, and not afraid to stand up to oppression. Knows how to stick to a project, and will always see it to its end. His attitude makes him somewhat confrontational, and sometimes his bravery can make him a little hardheaded, diving headfirst into opposition without fully considering the consequences.

He'll usually wear a neutral (that ranges from 'anxiously attentive' to 'sleepily uninterested') expression. I mean, he's more than capable of being upbeat, cheery, and excited, but you'd hear it more in his voice then you'd see it in his face. If you get lucky, you might see a bit of smirk crack from his lips. However, when he's aggravated, you'd know. He's weird like that.

Biography: Silverhollow's just about all Dom knows. He's had the pleasure of living in Brightfields his entire life. He watched the turf wars flourish like a flame all around him, and could only look on in horror as the wars claimed the life of SHPD officer Horatio Tate, his father. From then on he was determined to do several things: help end the war, move his mother out of Brightfields, and join the SHPD.

Upon graduating from high school, Dom received a scholarship for Goldmar University, in Milennial. His mother, Maria Salazar, was more overjoyed than he was. He wanted to take up a major in Criminal Justice, with a minor in Criminology (if that was even possible). What he didn't want, however, was to leave his mother by herself in Brightfields, as he knew she was coming along in age.

"Don't worry about me mijo. You have to do this. For me. For your father." She reassures him. "When I come back, it'll be with a moving truck. I'm gonna get you outta here, momma. Then, I'm gonna clean up these streets." It was a vow he made to both his mother, and himself. Years pass, and even as he managed to move his mother to Stonefalcon, Brightfields is still deteriorating from the raging gang wars. And even as he nears the home stretch of his four-year course, he knows there's still work to be done. And once he's accepted on the force, nothing's going to stop him from his ambitions.

Notes: Back when Horatio was alive, he'd tell young Dominic stories about one of his co-workers, the hero-cop Detective Jack Hartfield. From what he remembers, Dom thinks very highly of the officer, even if he's never met him in person. Some might even say he's one of the reasons why Dom wants to join the force, and with good reason. "The guy sounds like a living legend, why wouldn't I want to work beside him?"

He also has an ever-so-slightest dash of Spanish accent to his voice. It's barely noticeable to those he rarely hangs around, but everyone on his father's side of the family (and some of his closer friends) seems to get a kick out of it. They'll tell him to "say something Antonio Banderas would say" and, occasionally, he'd (obnoxiously) oblige them.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

The theme going in when I created Gabriel's personality was "Gabe wants to be hardcore, but his friends won't let him." He was your typical angst-filled, monotone character, but it was his relationships with the other characters that helped him evolve beyond that. He also has one of the longer sheets of my character pantheon, and if I had the time I could easily fill up a novel with the events leading up to the current events covered in the sheet and RP.

Fun Fact: During the development of the RP, there were plans of pairing him with one of the other characters, a loud, boisterous, rough-n-tumble girl named Freya. It would've been kinda one-sided, and a little stockholm syndrome-y (as Gabe would've been -at most times- kinda forced to be around her, and usually doesn't want much to do with people like her), but a little funny. Said character was made by @Lambi, and we were in the processes of getting the arc underway, but alas, the RP died out long before it could get to that point.

Gabe E. Aeckard

Name: Gabriel "Gabe" Emile Aeckerd
Age: 21
Sex: Male

Appearance: Gabriel would consider his family tree to be somewhat complex. From what he's learned, he's about 50% Micronesian, 25% African-American, and 25% Native American. Because of this, Gabe possesses a fair reddish-tan/olive complexion, dark brown eyes and smooth black hair (of which he tends to keep in the form of a very low buzz cut). He stands at 6 feet 1 inch(es), sporting an average build on an athletic frame. Gabe tends to wear clothes that disregard the concept of order. His t-shirts, jeans, and jackets are usually worn, torn, dingy, and generally distraught. He prefers dark colors over most, and hates to accessorize.

Personality: Gabriel would be considered the type to not always "play well with others". If the situation doesn't call for it, he'll try his hardest to keep to himself. He also houses a hair-triggered temper. Not too keen on smiling either. If someone gets too disrespectful towards him, he wouldn't hesitate to throw the first punch. He is not the talkative type, and won't raise his voice past a quiet monotonic unless he's provoked emotionally. Despite all this, Gabe is capable of being friendly; he just needs to be around the right types.

Divine Parent: Demeter, the Goddess of the Harvest.

Demigod Abilities: As an imprint left by his otherworldly mother, Gabriel possesses the ability to control and manipulate all forms of plant life. As long as said plants are his immediate space, they're at his disposal. While he hasn't quite fully learned how to weaponize plants past the obvious vine whips and thorned clubs, he's quite versed with creating fruits, vegetables, and grains. They came to him on an almost subconscious level, most likely due to his mother's divinities.

Weapon(s) and Wargear: Gabriel's never been too versed on classes of weaponry, though he's remembered watching the dryads of Central Park use makeshift Bows, Arrows, and Daggers to fend off hostile creatures. He does, however, carry a young, potted sapling in his bookbag. As one might expect from a child of the Harvest, Gabe bends the sapling to his will, usually having it extend out of his bag to entrap or inflict damage upon his foes.

When no one's looking, he likes to tend to the sapling, keeping it healthy. Secretly, he hopes it'll be able to grow up into a full size tree, one day.

Enchanted Item(s): None.

Biography:

One could say that Gabriel's lived a hard life. On a quiet night in April, a couple was admitted into a hospital in Queens, NY. At 10:20 pm, a beautiful baby boy was brought into the world. His mother blessed him with the first and last name of his father before he was placed in the nursery. Within the short time the parents were left alone, they seemingly vanished from the ER, the mother's name gone from the birth certificate. Fortunately, the hospital staff was able to find a next of kin. After a bit of notifying and paper signing, the fresh faced babe was turned over to the nearest relative: the father's mother.

Gabriel lived his young life filled with resentment towards his parents, learning of his father through his grandmother, but knowing nothing of his mother. His unguided anger became a core part of his attitude and mentality, and it kept him unfocused and careless towards school. His grandmother tried to put him on the right track, but her steady aging only feigned further ignorance from the boy. Despite his delinquencies, his strangely unhinged intelligence kept him from failing out of school. A third of a way into ninth grade, Gabriel's 15th birthday rolled around. Around 12 AM that quiet night, he had a strangely peculiar dream. He found himself wondering through a serene park, the scenario confusing yet immensely calming. A radiant being seemingly materialized beside him and embraced him, her touch felt warm and loving. Gabriel hugged back, and for once, he felt loved. It was one of the rare times where he smiled, and it didn't feel forced. He could barely make out her face, but the fragments he did see resembled someone from a very important part of his life. She spoke to him in a soft, affectionate voice, a said but a few words.

"Soon, you will see the world as I. It is up to you shape your destiny hereafter. You're a part of a much larger family now Gabriel. And a part of a much larger world..."

He awoke from the dream before he could question the occurrence, the sun outside his window barely risen. The words said to him in the dream replayed in his head. He was ready to shape his destiny. He didn't know how, exactly, but he decided that residing with his grandmother would get him nowhere (along with a thought that hung at a corner in his mind, a thought that assumed that his grandmother would be better off if she didn't have to worry about her delinquent grandson getting into trouble at school every other day). With his vigorous volition concreted in his psyche, he packed what he thought was necessary, gave his still sleeping guardian a quiet farewell, and departed from the smelly, dank apartment complex to watch the sun greet him as he began traversing out of Queens.

It was said that later in the day his grandmother was greeted by two stocky, hairy men who looked fairly uncomfortable in the pants they wore. They asked for Gabriel, and his grandmother suggested for the two to try looking for him at his school, where she assumed he'd be.

By the time he realized he was hungry, the sun was a fair's way into the sky, and Gabriel was in Manhattan. As he took note of his surroundings, he immediately began to take notice of things that were very out of the ordinary. Strange beings and entities walked among regular humans, beings that normal looking humans didn't seem to notice. Was this some type of joke? Did Gabriel mistakenly wander onto a movie filming? He was in this area just yesterday; it wasn't like this then. In hopes to clear his mind (and to prevent a scene of freaking out), Gabriel ducked into the park across the street from where he stood; Central Park, it was called. Unaware to him, he was being trailed by a tall, lurching shadow...

Two steps into the park, a subtle buzzing sensation began to ring through Gabriel's head. The buzzing/tingling feeling became much more prominent as he stepped onto the grass, and closed the gap between him and the plentiful trees and brush that inhabited the giant park. The sound rose to a point that it began to play over the sounds of chirping birds and outside pedestrians and cars. He turned his head to and fro, wondering where the noise was originating from. Was he near a beehive? The noises in his ear were more hurtful than helpful, and annoyed him profusely. With a hasty sigh, Gabriel sat down against the nearest tree, one that housed a very wide trunk. Plopping his backpack down beside him, he rested his head in his hands. Too much stuff was happening for him at once, too much stuff that he couldn't completely comprehend.

Before he could put another question to every strange thing happening, a lingering shadow rushed up to him, blending in with the overcasting shade of the leaves that hung from that massive tree. In the split second used to pull his head up past his shoulders, Gabriel was ripped from his train of thought as a graying monstrosity leaped at him from the shadow, fangs and claws bare. Unaware and unprepared, Gabriel received full extent of the attack, a heavy swipe from the beast tossing him away from his sitting position. His shirt was reduced to shreds where the attacked landed, blood leaking from the series of long gashes that appeared at his chest. He staggered to his feet, one hand at his chest, the other tightened into a fist. The massive hound kept a steady glare on his prey, sauntering back and forth, looking for an opening. It pounced again with maw agape, its teeth aimed for Gabriel's jugular veins. The boy expected the attack this time, intercepting the hound's jaws with outstretched arms.

The force of the lunge, accompanied by the hound's sheer size and weight was more than enough to put Gabriel on his back. The hound was now standing over him, trying its best to shake out of Gabriel's grasp. With every vicious jolt from the hound, Gabriel felt his grip begin to slip, the fear within him beginning to strengthen. As the two wrestled, the tree overcasting them began producing long vines from its branches, those of which began slink down towards the hound. Gabriel's strength faltered soon after, the vines becoming his saving grace as they speedily engulfed the large dog before hoisting it back into the thick canopy. He gave it one last look before grabbing his bag and hastily fleeing deeper into the park.

Afternoon rolled around in Central Park. After ensuring he was as far away from that mutated canine as possible, Gabriel took a seat at a nearby bench to catch his breath. He looked down at himself. His chest, stomach, and (what remained of his) shirt was caked with drying blood, dirt, and grass stains. The only thing running through his head was more questions. How did that dog get so big? How did that tree save him? Why was this all happening to him? As his mind continually reeled with queries, there was a being perched high in a tree behind him. She looked on cautiously, yet displayed a look of annoyance.

She dropped down from her hiding spot, and strode towards the confused boy, tapping him on a dirty shoulder. Gabriel jumped in fright, and jumped again as he turned to get a glimpse of the girl's peculiar look. Her ears were unusually long and pointed, her skin was a flushed color of green, her shoulder-length dark green hair was filled with twigs and leaves, and she wore clothing weaved from leaves of various sizes. She began to rant on about there being a hellhound wrapped and strapped to her tree, and wanting the son of Demeter to take it down. The title bestowed him upon stuck out in his mind, the "son of Demeter".

"You...know my parents?" He asked the young lady. She shrugged, replying that only a son of the Goddess of Agriculture and the Harvest could manipulate her tree in such a way. Her words left Gabriel slightly speechless. He summoned the vines? He was the son of a goddess? The girl saw his look of confusion and smiled.

"You're new to this, aren't you?"

"New to what?"

"Being a Demigod. I mean, you have to be one! Only a demi would be able to see Dryads and Hellhounds, and have the abilities that reflect that of their parents." She replied, now joining him on the bench. He was still going over what she said. So he was a Demigod now? He sighed. More questions and more confusion.

"Can you tell me more about Demigods? About...my mom?"

"Yeah...just get the hellhound out of my tree first." The wood nymph replied with a smile before introducing herself with the name Willow. Gabriel didn't really smile back, but her friendliness did cause him to warm up to her.

6 years pass. While attending and eventually graduating High School, Gabriel lived among the Dryads of Central Park. With their help, he grasped a better understanding of his abilities, and became ever more appreciative towards the nature around him. The buzzing in his head turned into fairly audible whispers that traveled on the wind. His time spent among the peaceful wood nymphs came at a price, however. Hellhounds, harpies, furies, and other horrors not only attacked him on his home turf, but at his school as well. He's watched many a dryad fall trying to protect him. He knew that the monsters were only coming for him, and the feeling of guilt ate at him. The night of his 20th birthday, he drove himself out of Central Park, to keep their lives safe from his curse. He found a sound happiness living in that Park, and being away from them caused his emotions to go back to its quiet, hostile, state. From a broken boy, to a broken adult, Gabriel aimlessly roamed the city, unsure and fairly uncaring of where his life went next.

One day, through his travels of vagrancy, Gabriel found himself on the outskirts of Long Island, and smack-dab in the middle of a conflict between two opposing parties. It wasn't a disagreement over him, so to say, Gabriel just seemed to have knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. To the untrained eye, one might mistake the scuffle to be some sort of gang war. To Gabriel, the fight looked more like something you wouldn't see on an everyday basis. A small group of individuals (most of which, looked to be in their teens) were engaged in fierce combat between an even smaller (and steadily shrinking) group of gorgons. Some of the kids used weapons of mythical origin, weapons that shone a brilliant gold-like color, while others used the elements to gain the upper hand. And then there was Gabe, dumbstruck while trying to fully assess the situation, unaware of the monstrous snake-woman that slowly approached behind him.

Before the monster of Grecian legend could inflict any damage upon the boy, it was stuck down by a volley of arrows. As the battle died down, he found himself being approached by the kids, and they began bombarding him with questions while they murmured amongst themselves. Where'd he come from? Could he see the gorgons? Was he a demigod? The last question fully acquired Gabriel's attention, and answering his own questions. It was no doubt that these kids were the half-godspawns he may have been subconsciously searching for. And with that, he decided to answer all their questions.

"My name is Gabe. My mother is one of the gods. Demeter, is her name." He told them, quietly. One of the teens (one which seemed to be the eldest), stepped towards Gabriel, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You should come with us, then. There's no safe haven outside of Camp Half-Blood for demis like us." The boy said, leading Gabriel and his group to the fabled camp. Gabe may not have known where he was being lead, but he figured he might as well go with the kids, and give himself a few nights of easy rest.

Notes: He doesn't like to admit it, but Gabriel has a natural talent for cooking. And according to previous acquaintances, he has a strange taste in music.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Oh boy, Justin. Loved playing this guy. Honestly, he was a total asshole drama queen shitlord, through and through, but I enjoyed every little thing I got to do with him. He was just a blast to play as.

Justin Case

Name: Justin Case
Alias: Somebody called him Brainstorm once. He obviously objected the name, but it stuck anyway.

Gender: Male
Age: 19

Appearance: Justin is of Caucasian (or Italian?) decent. He's 5'9", and 125 lbs. Along with sporting an average frame on a equally average body, Justin has short cropped brown hair, light brown eyes, and no facial hair. No piercings or tattoos either. He has a thing for graphic tees, and tends to wear those the most. There's no real preference when it comes to other articles of clothing.

There's not much to his superhero ensemble, and at the moment, he's just fine with that. The getup consists of a pair of vintage bike riding goggles (similar to these, their lenses mirrored, to give at least some anonymity), a faded black bandana that he uses to wrap around/obscure his nose and mouth, a weathered leather jacket (in which he plans to put some sort of emblem on the back of it, but hasn't had the time or money implement his idea), a pair of loose fitting black military boots, and the pair of jeans and shirt he was wearing that day. He's never had the time (or the proper budget) to put any sort of real costume together, and he'd rather put money into adjustments and upgrades to his glove.

Personality: Justin could be best described as "too big for his britches". 'Arrogant', 'snarky', and 'careless' would be some of his defining traits. He tends to not care of other people's thoughts or feelings, and gets defensive when he's put on the spot or someone finds a flaw in something of his. But, why should he be nice? If other people can be dicks and get away with it, why can't he?

Alignment: He tries to be Good, but has a tendency to stray. Can be easily swayed if the situation presents itself.

Superpowers: Peak human intelligence (and exponentially climbing), and a resistance to most (if not all) forms of electricity and plasma. Along with such abilities, He's created a gauntlet/glove/something-or-other, called the "Awe: Mk. IV" (he named it himself, could you tell?). What could be best described as a "TASER Glove made from household materials", the Awe is capable of generating short bursts of electricity from the nodes placed along the fingers, fingertips, and palm. Justin actively makes attempts at improving of his invention, hoping to one day be able to generate enough electricity to use in a projective force.

Weaknesses: At the end of the day, Justin's still just a squishy, defenseless human. He's had no real combat training, and he's not all that durable. Not to mention a glass jaw. There's a reason why he's so mouthy. He might be quick witted, but he's not all that quick on his feet. All it takes is a person that person that can shrug off his Awe, and he'll crumple like it was his first day in 6th grade.

He doesn't like to admit it though.

Biography: I could start this at the beginning, talk about how Justin was born and raised in a dull part of Harlem, NY. About how he lived with his father, Joesph Case, who worked as a electrician. Instead, i'll just skip ahead, to the motivation.

School times were strenuous for young Justin. He was one of those cases where a bully and his cronies would find one unfortunate soul, and basically torment him or her with little to no relent. It was doubly bad for Justin, seeing as he had to deal with Cortez and his band of merry men in every class he had, and during every walk home too. And like those with a constant enemy, he began to grow used to the torment. To a point, that is. Cortez's abuse grew as he realized Justin's coping. But, whatever, right? Justin still graduated from his junior high school, top of his class. He might've gotten valedictorian if he weren't so distracted with not being this one guy's personal chew toy.

Then, high school rolled around. The first minutes of his first class, the first thing Justin realized, was his good friend Cortez, giving him a sly smile from across the room. Jesus, was he gonna have to deal with this guy for the rest of his life? Justin couldn't come to terms with that. He tried finding a way to distance himself from this guy, changing his classes, changing his lunch time, changing his school. But, those plans were simply scrapped. His parents wouldn't let him switch schools, and his guidance counselor didn't think it would be beneficial to have him drop out of his AP and Honors classes. He was stuck. And (finally) it made him angry. Granted, he had no thoughts of doing anything too drastic (murder? Why ruin my life over somebody else's faggotry?) but he did want to do something to the boy. Something that would put him away for awhile...or at least get the fucker off his back for a week. One weekend, he found a solution through a bout of web surfing. He found a few links, directions to making what they called a "stun glove". It made him smirk, there were so many variations to the concept, and yet, they were all so simple.

He soon got to work on his very own stun glove. A rough prototype was finished within the hour. A dull buzzing began to inhabit the quiet room, a sign that his creation was a success, or at least, that it could turn on. Without thinking, he tested the glove on himself, hoping to get some sort of shock out of it. To his surprise, (or more specifically, disappointment) the glove inflicted no damage. He tried it again, and again, and again. No result. So, he did the next best thing. If there was no damage being inflicted, then maybe he just need to enhance the voltage. So, Justin discarded the recommended AA battery, and used the battery from his dad's car instead. After a quick transition of reconfiguring a much needed jumper cable, the adjustment was complete. As he turned it on, the previously quiet hum of the device was now more of a loud drone. He rubbed his foil-tipped fingers together, felt the heat of electricity as bluish-white sparks jumped from his tips. He didn't even have to test it now, he could visibly see the results! Even so, there was still one variable he wanted to test out, and it lived right down the block.

With the car battery in tow, Justin made the short trip to the bully's house. Knocking on his door, Justin couldn't believe his luck as he watched Cortez open the door (maybe his parents worked on the weekend? Whatever, don't care). No more words were said on Justin's behalf. His pointer finger protruded, he jabbed straight at Cortez's chest. White-hot lightning exited from the glove, and entered the bully's heart. Call him crazy, but watching that kid jitter and shake as he experienced convulsions made him chuckle. Comeuppance was sweet, and karma was a bitch. He gave his nemesis one good threat before departing, the boy still collapsed over his threshold.

With his mission accomplished, you'd think the stun glove would've been retired to a spot in his closet, only to be reminisced on during a daydream. Instead, it became more of a pet project, Justin beginning to think how this venture of his could be improved on. Maybe extend the force of his electrical burst? Or perhaps make the cumbersome battery easier to carry? With these thoughts, he dubbed his stun glove the "Awe, Mk. I", and began conjuring suggestions for a Mk. II.

Fast forward about five years. Without Cortez's threatening distractions, 18-year-old Justin had graduated high school with ease, a fresh scholarship to the New York Institute of Technology tucked neatly under his belt. By the end of that school year, He had just finished working on his prized possession, the "Awe Mk. IV". He managed to work his custom battery pack into a seemingly inconspicuous bookbag, and found a new likeness for copper wires (luckily in some bountiful supply due to his father's occupation). However, he couldn't find a way to increase the Awe's current level of voltage, at least, not without gaining illegal substances or performing illegal acts. His budget was already lackluster, and with the additional fees that come with college (and his bad additude keeping him from holding on to a job), he couldn't think of a way to keep his project properly financed.

However, he came across an ad during one of his sessions of net surfing. A company of some sort, called Seraphim. They were looking for individuals with extraordinary talents, ones that were willing to to help clean the city of anonymous miscreants, their numbers apparently growing in size, and becoming too much for the local police to handle on their own. Granted, most of the ad didn't get a rise out of him, but the promise of a paycheck did. As he looked down towards his Awe, he began to think of such an opportunity. Could he be so willing to risk his life to make the living conditions safer for he and those around him?

"Ha! Hell no." The idea was quickly dismissed.

Some weeks from then, Justin was traversing his way through late night Manhattan, on his way home from a class. Mostly engrossed in his thoughts, Justin failed to notice what type of neighborhood he was walking through. He also failed to notice the shady looking person that had been trailing him since 125 St. Soon, the assailant was upon Justin, brandishing a knife and yelling about money. As Justin stammered in fear, the robber threw him to the ground. It was becoming harder for Justin to think straight as his heart thumped in his ears, but he did remember one thing: he packed the Awe before leaving for class. It was some stroke of luck, but one gloved palm to the face was all that was needed to subdue the man. Just like that, Justin had come full circle. He had created the first Awe to take care of a bully, and four versions later he had to use it for its original purpose. A moment like that could've been considered significant to someone else...but apparently, not to Justin. Truth be told, he probably didn't even realize it.

Catching his breath, Justin stood up straight. He couldn't stop thinking of how strangely easy that was. Continuing his trek home, he began wondering of how a yearly salary with Seraphim could benefit both his studies, and his projects.

The thoughts of a Mk V on an actual budget came to him lastly, and he wondered if the organization would even consider him if he put in a resume.

There was also Richard, the halberd-toting dragonmorph known better as Soarele Negru, The Black Sun.

The Black Sun

Name: Richard de Bertrand
Alias: The mage that commandeered his mind dubbed him Soarele Negru: The Black Sun.

Gender: Male
Age: 30

Appearance: Augmented by the sorcery relentlessly pumped into him, Richard is a 6'2-inch tall Caucasian male. He's built like a quarterback, with steadily thinning brown hair, steadily graying pale skin, shimming yellow eyes, and a grim disposition. Upon entering the present day, he was wearing the colors of his kingdom. Blackened scale metal armor, sans, helmet, a white cross emblazoned over the breastplate. His altered form, the massive imposing dragon, is covered in rugged, sandpaper-esque, gray scales. A series of ascending sized black horns line his snouted skull, matching his sharp, blackened teeth, and black claws.

Personality: Fiercely loyal to his implemented "mission", unpredictable, impulsive, not in his right mind.

Alignment: Richard finds both sides of the spectrum in need of cleansing, and will not align himself with the filth polluting the world.

Superpowers: Trained from youth to serve his kingdom, Richard has the expert combat skills of the elite branch of knights he operated under. His weapon of choice is a straight-bladed halberd. Once a ordinary spear, it was enchanted by the sorcerer that abducted him. Now called the Whiteraze, the halberd is capable of igniting into white-hot flames with a thought, and can return to him if thrown. Also gifted to him by the wizard, was the Sigillum Dei Aemaeth, the occult diagram charred into his chest and back. With the marking driving his person, Richard is granted an immunity to fire and diseases, as well as the ability to mutate into a 9'6 tall dragon with a ten foot long wingspan. In this form, he can spew flames of varying temperatures, along with a poisonous and extremely flammable black smog, capable of suffocating the unprepared in minutes.

Weaknesses: As formidable as he may be in his human form, he his still human at the end of the day. He could be taken out by modern day weaponry. His dragon form, while impressively durable, isn't indestructible, and could also be subdued and suppressed with enough firepower.

Biography: Sometime during the early 1200s, medieval kingdoms were all the rage throughout Europe. And with kingdoms, came kings. And with kings, came the quest for power over the land. And this craving came the force, the tide turners. The armies, the way to police the land you have, while fighting over the land you want. Richard de Bertrand was a knight in one of these armies, happily battling his bordering countries in the name of his greedy, selfish king. And his god, of course. One particular skirmish, however, produced a unique variable. A deranged mage by the name of Emil Metodija separated Richard from his troupe with illusions, before subduing him and retreating to his lair with his prize in tow. See, Emil was in cahoots with one of the bordering countries, one of which Richard's army was besieging their way through at the moment. With this new specimen in his possession, Emil had a potential Trojan horse to use against the ones currently stomping their way through his homeland.

"This pawn could raze his own home in under a day..." The more he thought of a plan, the more spells and enchantments came to mind. Firstly, after laying the unconscious knight upon his operating table, he conjured a large tome, filled with magical incantations and spells. He flipped through a few pages, and homed in on his first charm. One to implant false visions into his mind and alter his sights. One to enchant the knight's favored weapon. Emil felt his task to be complete after that, but then had a thought. "He willn't last long like this. He needs..." He rummaged around his trunk of magical items. One "aha!" of realization later, he produced two artifacts. A medallion made of gold covered in polygons and words, a large polished rune forged from a malachite ore. "The seal of god..." He addressed the medallion as he pressed it into the knight's chest. As Emil muttered incantations, the medallion began to glow red hot, and seared into the unconscious warrior. "This will imbue you with ability to truly obliterate your kingdom. A precaution, however. In time, the beast within you will consume you whole." Removing the medallion left a smoldering burn that left the skin charred. As his skin began to lose pigment, he moved on to the the second artifact.

A second character I created for the RP, one that refused to side with the heroes or the villains, and instead favored destroying both sides.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Morgan was a character that I (admittedly) didn't put a ton of attention and priority into. I dunno, could've been the character, could've been the RP itself, but I just couldn't get committed to him. I didn't drop the RP, naturally, but in retrospect I kinda wish I handled this particular character the same way I did with some of my others.

This was another Pokemon RP, by the way.

Morgan Zakarias

Name: Morgan Zakarias
Age: 21
Sex: Male

Appearance: Of Caucasian decent, Morgan stands at 5'11'', with 155 pounds tacked on to a stocky, athletic frame. His usually low-banged dark brown hair has been cut completely as instructed by the military. Admittedly, it has become easier to see out of his light brown eyes without all the hair obscuring his vision. He suffers from minor astigmatism, causing him to wear a pair a black rimmed glasses. He's dressed in his modern naval working uniform, which consists of a light jacket, short sleeved shirt and pants, and black boots. The uniform is colored in a digital-style camouflage of varying navy blues and grays. Granted, He can't wait to get out of that uniform.

Personality: His time in basic training has hardened him in several ways. He's grown a fairly bitter demeanor, and tends to be loyal to causes he's attached to. Despite these, he's never had a problem with being social or making friends, quite enjoys a night of drinking, and wears the 'curses like a sailor' trope on his sleeve.

Profession: Enlisted Sailor, Petty Officer Third Class. Currently on reserve.

Talents: Of the many skills he's acquired through training, he's found his most prominent talent to be navigation. As he's learned both land and naval variants of the skill, the art stuck out in his mind the furthest.

Starter Pokémon: He was issued a young male Chinchou by the Navy, a stubborn little spitfire he dubbed Chase.
- Its moves are Light Screen, Bubble, and Supersonic

Inventory: He carries a large navy blue duffel bag, issued to him, of course. It is filled with:
Issued:
- 5 Potions
- 5 Antidotes
- First Aid kit
- Basic Camping Equipment
- Tent
- Sleeping Bag
- Multi-Tool (Complete with Flint, Compass, basic tools, and others)
- Camping Knife
- 5 Military MREs of varying flavors
- Extra undergarments
- P$2500
Bought:
- 3 Pokéballs
- Civilian clothing (jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, sweater)

Hometown: Mauville City, in Hoenn. Completed his Basic Training in Slateport.

Biography: Morgan won't pause to tell people how he's been raised by a pro-military family. It's how his parents met, as a matter of fact. Growing up, the only real decision he was able to make was which branch he was able to choose after completing High School. With his fascination with the open sea (and the sole decision to avoid any branch his parents were involved in), he decided on the Hoenn Navy.

He couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief as he departed for Slateport, finally out the grasp of his suffocating parents. He actually found more freedom under the supervision of his many drill sergeants than he did his mom and pop. His 18 weeks of Basic Training passed much faster than he anticipated, and found himself at the mercy of his parents yet again only mere hours of graduating. Combined with some opinions from his fellow peers, and his own volition, he decided that he had to get away from these two. Pulling some strings, he managed to be assigned to a region previously unheard of: Gensia. He didn't care how he got there, just as long as he parents couldn't follow on his coattails.

With a hasty goodbye to his parents, Morgan boarded the only navel vessel en route towards Gensia. He was told that he would arrive in a city called Aquamar, and were to report to a naval base not too far from its port. The fairly simple instructions were just fine to him, and his nervousness towards seeing the new region was about par with his happiness towards some breathing room.

Notes: Just like his fascination with the wide expanses of the ocean, Morgan finds himself to be most fascinated with water-types.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Ah, Charlie. A returning character that was part of a (unfortunately failed) reboot of a Pokemon RP we were transplanting from the Escapist.

Charlie Delacroix

Name: Charles "Charlie" Delacroix
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Hometown: Goldenrod City, Johto Region

Appearance: Charlie stands at 5'11, a fair skinned type of mixed pedigree (Father being French-Canadian, Mother being African-American), with dark brown eyes and abundantly voluminous, puffy brown hair, usually wrapped into a crude ponytail with one of his mom's frilly scrunchies. With a thin build on an averagely athletic frame, Charlie wears a short sleeved blue V-neck, with faded "urban camouflage" cargo shorts, worn blue hi-top sneakers, a pair of long, shin-length blue and white striped socks, and a black C-Gear.

Personality: Charlie likes to consider himself to be a bona fide hardass (as his father likes to say), cold and calculated in his ways. In reality he's a bit of a happy-go-lucky goofball that tends to take value in his friends, as well as headstrong and proud whenever it's necessary. He's also more eager to help then he realizes, and smiles a lot more than he thinks. However, unless initially greeting someone, he usually won't be one to start up a conversation (usually this is even harder for him if the person in question's in his age group). It's a trait he's working on changing.

Profession: Trainer

Talents: Between a mix of the things his father taught him and the things he's figured out on his own, Charlie has found himself to be a fairly experienced survivalist, knowing many tricks to living off of the land. He's yet to have a problem with making his own fires, finding civilization, locating fresh water, making makeshift shelters, and hunting for food. He's also pretty good at climbing trees.

Inventory:
-5 Pokeballs (3 used; 3 bought)
-3 potions (originally had 5; 2 already used)
-Town Map
-$700 in cash, which he usually keeps in an old leather wallet
-Another outfit for colder climates (a grey knit sweater picked out and bought by his mother and a baggy, holey pair of faded blue jeans)
-An extra pair of underwear
-A multi-purpose knife/tool
-A sleeping bag
-Assorted toiletries (also packed by his mother, yet he rarely uses)
-Carried in a medium sized duffel bag that doubles as his pillow.

Starter Pokemon:
-A timid, female Cyndaquil, named Quinn.

Biography: A native to Goldenrod City, Charlie spent his whole life growing up there. He spent the entirety of his younger years waiting to be the appropriate age to be a trainer, and as he reached the optimum age of ten, he excitedly packed his things and rushed out the door...only to be promptly stopped by his overprotective mother, Dalia, and his stern, stoic, father, Samuel. Not quite ready to let their son go, they decided that he'd embark on his journey at an older age.

After school, he'd watch in envy as budding trainers entered hopefully into Whitney's gym, sometimes sneaking inside to catch a battle. If he didn't do that, he'd go outside the city, visiting the Day Care, admiring the pokemon left by their trainers (slightly happier whenever someone dropped off a Ponyta or a Mareep). While his mother worked as a manager at the Goldenrod Department Store, his father was one of the City's firefighters. Once he eventually (albeit reluctantly) completed school, his parents finally deemed him worthy (and old enough) to begin his journey as a pokemon trainer.

Upon giving him his duffel bag, multi-tool, C-Gear (he in return subsequently freaking out over how expensive it must've been to have it imported from the Unova region), and money as graduation gifts, they told him to work his way towards New Bark Town first, to talk to Professor Elm about his first pokemon. With one last hug from the both of them (and a plea to call often from his mother), Charlie excitedly began his trek, eager to start the long road ahead as a pokemon trainer. The trip was starting to form into a bit of downer, due to his lack of a companion (and all those poor youngsters he had to turn down when they found out he possessed no pokemon).

But despite the shortcomings, Charlie safely reached New Bark Town, where he obtained his first Pokemon, Pokedex, and Pokeballs from Professor Elm, re-re-deciding that his adventure starts here. However, Elm stopped him at the door (Charlie snidely remarking on how this happens way too much to him). He told him of one of his colleagues from the Kanto region, and how he was looking for trainers from regions other than his own for survey and how they'd match up against the Kanto League Challenge. Charlie frowned initially, seeing as he was looking more towards a gym battle with Whitney in his hometown, but quickly saw the positives in this rare offer, with new Pokemon and a whole different experience. He agreed finally, and with Elm's Lapras, the two began towards the region.

Bypassing Route 26 (Elm telling the budding trainer how he'd be able to come back here when he was much more experienced), the two successfully arrived in Pallet Town, where Charlie was shown and introduced to Oak. After the two Professors caught up, Oak told the trainer of the Kanto League Challenge, and of how they'd be much different than the gym leaders he's come to know in Johto. After which, Elm gave him a few last words of encouragement before departing.

Notes/Other: His father despises Fire-types and Electric-types due to his occupation (as he prefers and works with Water-types), and just doesn't know what his son sees in them. And despite their outputs on pokemon, neither parents ever owned one.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Next is ol' Jason. He currently holds the record for the character with the most fleshed out about him. The Society of Justice was a three-part superhero RP in which he was a main staple of the cast.

Jason J. Rojas

Name: Jason Jaime (pronounced Hy-me) Rojas

Hero Alias: Erebus.
- Formally Keyholder #238967

Age: 17 yrs. old

Powers: (w/ The Key's power enabled) Enhanced speed, agility, and strength. Limited Invulnerability and an Increased jump ability.

Weaknesses: The armor dissipates after taking to much damage (noted by the amount of cracks shown on it) and The Key would have to recharge it for me to use it again. I'm completely vulnerable without the armor.

Weapons: I don't really need one when my armor is enabled, but I've had multi-weapon training when I was still with The Key Corps., and can use one whenever the armor dissipates.

Appearance (both civilian and hero costume):
- My Civilian Wear: A black sleeveless hoodie over a black dress shirt (with sleeves usually rolled up, not pictured) with a blue tie casually knotted, black skinnys, and black and blue high-tops.

- My Hero Costume: The armor is mostly black, and somewhat skintight. Blue spikes are sprouted from my forearms and four long spikes stretch out in different directions from my faceless black head. My hands are clawed with the tips being streaked blue. When I take damage, blue cracks appear in the spot where the damage was inflicted.

- Or, you could just look at this.

Personality: I'm consider myself to be an easy going and happy guy; even though most people say that I always look and act like I'm about to murder someone. It's...a family trait.

Biography: Oh boy, where do I begin? Um okay. I was born into a cultist, elitist, extremist vigilante group called The Key Corps, named after an energy signature (The Key, of course) that's present in a small amount of humans. The Key itself can be a really small and insignificant, but when concentrated upon, and used to its full potential, it can create full suits of armor, weapons, and even modes of flight for the body. The people that have harnessed The Key's full potential are called Keyholders. If you haven't figured it out by now, I am a Keyholder.
...Anywho, Sometime last year, someone has unleashed some type of new energy signature into innocent civilians, a signature that's similar to The Key. The news has been spread amongst the ranks of the Corps, and we've been sent out to exterminate those with the "False Key", most of which, were just ordinary people, some even kids and old people. I couldn't bear to watch anymore of the meaningless slaughter, so I secretly disbanded from the Corps, in hopes to find this person (or people) and to expose and destroy them. In the process of bettering the world, someone found out my secret, and the Corps labeled me as a "betrayer to my people". Now they search for me with a hit on my head. Now with nowhere to go I decided to join with the S.o.J in hopes to lay low, and to put The Key's power to good use while finding the person that's unleashed the "False Key" virus upon the world. That...and I'd figured I could use some pay since I'm on my own and only have a 12th grade education.

Notes: ...You guys do pay right? Right?!

Jason J. Rojas in Society of Justice 2: Race for the Prize

Name: Jason Jaime (pronounced Hy-me) Rojas

Hero Alias: Erebus

Age: Turned 18 last spring
- D.O.B: May 28th

Powers: (w/ The Key's power enabled) Enhanced speed, agility, and strength. Limited Invulnerability and an Increased jump ability. With my time on the SoJ, I also learned how to generate and eject spikes from my armor.

Weaknesses: Through a scuffle with the illusion of my brother (...It's a long story...) I've learned that the armor is useless when facing other Keyholders. That, and the armor dissipates after taking too much damage (noted by the amount of cracks shown on it) and The Key would have to recharge it for me to use it again.

Weapons: The only weapons I use are the black spikes that occasionally sprout of my arms, wrists, or the ground. When I was still in the Corps, I was trained to used several different types of weapons. My favorite weapon was the Bo Staff. So sometimes I'll use a long spike as a makeshift staff.

Appearance (both civilian and hero costume):

- Civilian Wear: Most of the time I wear simple hoodies, t-shirts, jeans, and other casual clothes. Though, my favorite outfit consists of a black and blue striped hoodie (plain black T-shirt underneath), black skinnys, and black and blue high-tops. And sometimes I'll wear a pair of clear-lensed, black Wayfarers. Also, on an unrelated note, I also grew facial hair over the year!

- Hero Costume: The armor is mostly black, and somewhat skintight. Blue spikes are sprouted from my forearms and four long spikes stretch out in different directions from my faceless black head. My hands are clawed with the tips being streaked blue. When I take damage, blue cracks appear in the spot where the damage was inflicted (with one, un-recovering crack spreading across the mouth of my face mask. I...won't go into details about its significance here...)

Personality: Still the same easy-going and laid back Jason. I respect my elders, and I know my place.

Biography: So...what, you want me to put what I had before? Eh, whatevs.
A long time ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the fire nation attacked I was born into a cultist, elitist, extremist vigilante group called The Key Corps, named after an energy signature (The Key, of course) that's present in a small amount of humans. The Key itself can be a really small and insignificant, but when concentrated upon, and used to its full potential, it can create full suits of armor, weapons, and even modes of flight for the body. The people that have harnessed The Key's full potential are called Keyholders. If you haven't figured it out by now, I am a Keyholder.

Notes: I've taken some time (a lot of time) to retreat to my room for deep mediation and solitude. Please do not disturb.

Jason Rojas in SoJ 3: Crisis on the Earth

Umm...you guys want me to make another file? Seems kind of redundant, but whatevs...

Name: Jason Jaime (pronounced Hy-me) Rojas

Hero Alias: Erebus

Age: Just turned 19
- D.O.B: May 28th

Powers: (w/ The Key's power enabled) Enhanced speed, agility, and strength. Limited Invulnerability and an Increased jump ability. With my time on the SoJ, I also learned how to generate and eject spikes from my armor.

Weaknesses: The armor is useless when facing other Keyholders. That, and the armor dissipates after taking too much damage (noted by the amount of cracks shown on it) and The Key would have to recharge it for me to use it again.

Weapons: The only weapons I use are the black spikes that occasionally sprout of my arms, wrists, or the ground. When I was still in the Corps, I was trained to used several different types of weapons. My favorite weapon was the Bo Staff. So sometimes I'll use a long spike as a makeshift staff. And speaking of Bo Staffs, Tommy got me one last Christmas. I use that one for training.

Appearance (both civilian and hero costume):

- Civilian Wear: Most of the time I wear simple hoodies, t-shirts, jeans, and other casual clothes. Though, my favorite outfit consists of a black and blue striped hoodie (plain black T-shirt underneath), black skinnys, and black and blue high-tops. And sometimes I'll wear a pair of clear-lensed, black Wayfarers. Also, on an unrelated note, I also grew facial hair over the year! It's like a really thin chinstrap goatee. I'll get rid of it if it becomes a problem.

- Hero Costume: The armor is mostly black, and somewhat skintight. Blue spikes are sprouted from my forearms and four long spikes stretch out in different directions from my faceless black head. My hands are clawed with the tips being streaked blue. When I take damage, blue cracks appear in the spot where the damage was inflicted (with one, un-recovering crack spreading across the mouth of my face mask. I...won't go into details about its significance here...)

Personality: Still the same easy-going and laid back Jason. I respect my elders, and I know my place.

Biography: So...what, you want me to put what I had before? Again? Geez.
I was born into a cultist, elitist, extremist vigilante group called The Key Corps, named after an energy signature (The Key, of course) that's present in a small amount of humans. The Key itself can be a really small and insignificant, but when concentrated upon, and used to its full potential, it can create full suits of armor, weapons, and even modes of flight for the body. The people that have harnessed The Key's full potential are called Keyholders. If you haven't figured it out by now, I am a Keyholder.

Relevant Family Members

Takashi Jinrou

My older brother. Jealous of our father's affection, and tries to take his anger out on me. He has red armor (his cracks are black), can teleport, and can grow shields to opposite my spikes. Approach with caution.

Marrissa Kerrigan

My younger sister. She was strong for her age, but that's all I remember from that last I saw her. With the Key Corps' strict training regimen, god knows how good she's gotten...

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Skipping an entry for Phil, my first character. Avatar Adventures was very open, and played very fast and loose with character entries, and as such, one wasn't made for him.

Moving on to JD, a character of my very first (and currently most successful) RP, "Zombie High!"

James Damaris

Name: James Damaris Sparda

Age: 17

Occupation: Student

Favorite Subject: Technology, Engineering

Items in Bookbag: Doesn't have a bookbag; Usually leaves books and equipment in school

Personality: Has an Active, somewhat Happy personality, but is sometimes quick to change emotions.

Backstory: He came to Sly High because the subjects at his school were too easy, and they didn't interest him. But then he got a letter concerning the entrance exams for the specialized school. He couldn't miss this chance. But the thought of being in a school where only 7% of 3000+ students were African American (he was one of them) scared him a bit. But as his years there progressed, he coped with it, and eventually became one of the more popular kids of the school.

When heard about the spreading infection he thought ground zero would never be near his school, and brushed off the fact as nothing. Boy, was he wrong.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Inspired by a friend, I got bored and decided to put up a page displaying most (excluding unaccepted characters) of the individuals I've crafted since I made my RPing start on The Escapist, waayyyy back in 2009. This page'll also fill up with the characters of new or currently existing RPs that I've applied in.

Phil ✯ The Escapist Avatar Adventures (Debut: July 2009)
James Damaris "JD" Sparda ✯ Zombie High! (Debut: December 2009)
Jason J. Rojas ✯ The Society of Justice (Debut(s): March 2010, September 2010, November 2010)
Charles Delacroix ✯ The Road to Indigo (Debut(s): May 2012, March 2015)
Morgan Zacharias ✯ Battlegrounds (Debut: July 2012)
Justin Case ✯ Order and Chaos (Debut: August 2012)
Gabriel E. Aeckerd ✯ Demigods (Debut: November 2012)
Dominic Salazar-Tate ✯ The Goldmar Incident (Debut: January 2013)
Adrian Lieber ✯ Master of Puppets (Debut: August 2013)
Richard de Bertrand ✯ Order and Chaos (Debut: November 2013)
Horatio "Joey" Dunst ✯ Journey of the Elementals (Debut(s): April 2014, July 2015)
Deegan James "Deej" Morrison ✯ Welcome to Billboardsville! (Debut: May 2014)
"Granny" Shirley Sinclaire ✯ Welcome to Billboardsville! (Debut: May 2014)
Sonia Sinclaire ✯ Welcome to Billboardsville! (Debut: May 2014)
Ja'Ysr Sivir ✯ Star Wars: Warlords of the Sith (Debut: July 2014)
Lian Wei-Na ✯ Avatar: The Dark Age (Debut: December 2014)
Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle ✯ Forgotten Realms: The Viscount Crusade, Ravenloft: Torches in the Night (Debut(s): January 2015, September 2015)
Ezra G. Daly ✯ Warriors of Segun (Debut: August 2015)
Adrian Nicholson ✯ Refuge of the Forgotten (Debut: September 2015)
Quincy J. Odell ✯ Dragons of Caerel (Debut: November 2015)

Dragons of Caerel [accepting!]

You mean multiple consecutive posts of Quincy only cooing and baby-talking Alejandra? I'm in!

Dragons of Caerel [accepting!]

So, I'm guessing everyone's being dragged through hell for finals week, yeah?