MisterButtons Member
- Last Seen: MIA
- Old Guild Username: MisterButtons
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 47 (0.01 / day)
- VMs: 0
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Username history
- MisterButtons 11 yrs ago
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Most Recent Posts
Roger codger dodger.
Y'know, swearing wise. Alexis is an old character of mine that is best known for making up very elaborate and/or confusing insults. I can tone it down if need be.
Man, I'm actually really excited for this. I've been offline for like a year. S'good to be back.
Also @Otaku95. hat age rating are you going for? Just wanna make sure I don't go too crazy with Alexis.
Also @Otaku95. hat age rating are you going for? Just wanna make sure I don't go too crazy with Alexis.
Name: Simon Capis
Age: 17 (Junior)
Nickname(s): n/a
Clique: Jock, to an extent.
Appearance:
Personality: Reserved.
Crush: TBD
Relationship Status: Single
Hobbies/Interest: Books, exercise, outdoors.
Short Bio: Simon is a bit of an oddity, a microcosm of contradictions. Though athletic, Simon finds little joy on the field, considering cross-country more of a chore than anything. While friendly, he shows reluctance to engage with anyone on a level deeper than small talk, and is quick to excuse himself when the given the chance. And, while there is no shortage of people that would call him a friend, Simon would be hard pressed to name any of them. He seems to go out of his way to avoid his classmates, taking side passages and lower traffic hallways between classes and usually leaving the campus during lunch. As such, no one at Northlane seems to know much about him.
He's new to the school, this being his first year at Northlane after moving from out of state. Although he has no problem making conversation with people, he's hardly ever seen with anyone outside of classes and clubs. Simon usually spends his free time finding a secluded place to read, which is why he finds himself near the school's main entrance so late after school. Not realizing how long he'd spent with his nose in his book, Simon tries to leave for home. Unfortunately, he didn't notice the snow until after he's run into the door, landing hard on his back and swearing loudly.
Other:Simon has a bruise on his forehead from running into the main door.
***
I've always had trouble roleplaying character development, so I wanted to use this as an opportunity to practice, hence the fairly nondescript bio. I wanna give myself plenty of room to play around. Is that alright?
Age: 17 (Junior)
Nickname(s): n/a
Clique: Jock, to an extent.
Appearance:
Personality: Reserved.
Crush: TBD
Relationship Status: Single
Hobbies/Interest: Books, exercise, outdoors.
Short Bio: Simon is a bit of an oddity, a microcosm of contradictions. Though athletic, Simon finds little joy on the field, considering cross-country more of a chore than anything. While friendly, he shows reluctance to engage with anyone on a level deeper than small talk, and is quick to excuse himself when the given the chance. And, while there is no shortage of people that would call him a friend, Simon would be hard pressed to name any of them. He seems to go out of his way to avoid his classmates, taking side passages and lower traffic hallways between classes and usually leaving the campus during lunch. As such, no one at Northlane seems to know much about him.
He's new to the school, this being his first year at Northlane after moving from out of state. Although he has no problem making conversation with people, he's hardly ever seen with anyone outside of classes and clubs. Simon usually spends his free time finding a secluded place to read, which is why he finds himself near the school's main entrance so late after school. Not realizing how long he'd spent with his nose in his book, Simon tries to leave for home. Unfortunately, he didn't notice the snow until after he's run into the door, landing hard on his back and swearing loudly.
Other:Simon has a bruise on his forehead from running into the main door.
***
I've always had trouble roleplaying character development, so I wanted to use this as an opportunity to practice, hence the fairly nondescript bio. I wanna give myself plenty of room to play around. Is that alright?
Fuck yeah. How many people are you hoping for?
Name: Doctor Alexis Masaryk
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Appearance: Standing at 5’11”, Alexis is thin to the point it appears a stiff wind could tip him over. His hair is a light brown, cropped short and just starting to turn grey. Alexis was once a business casual kind of guy (under a labcoat, of course), but the recent apocalypse made him reconsider his wardrobe. He’s taken to wearing a set of brown work pants, some trainers and a ratty grey zipped-up hoodie. He protects himself from fungal spores with a white woodworking facemask, having drawn a smiley face on the front.
Weapons: TZ-75, chambered in .40 S&W and carried in a hip holster, and a collection of wickedly sharp medical instruments held in handmade holsters on his person. These include an irresponsibly large amount of scalpels, a set of rib spreaders, and a bone saw.
Supplies: Foregoing more common survival supplies, Alexis packs around what he lovingly refers to as his “Portable Hospital”; a large tan molle pack stuffed to the brim with a massive assortment of medical supplies. From bandages and splints to surgical implements, and legally questionable amounts of various medications, Alexis considers himself a walking emergency room. Of course, he hasn't completely ignored other necessities such as food and water, but anything not medically related is crammed into a small butt pouch laced into the bottom of his backpack.
Personality: Alexis’ coping method for dealing with the end of the world is to largely ignore it, appearing cheerful and outgoing to the point of blatant denial.
Backstory: Alexis’ history is hard to gather, largely because of his tendency to make up ridiculous stories about how he’s learned certain things. If everything he’s stated is true, Alexis was raised in Canada, acquired two doctorates from Devry University and the University of Jamaica, was a medical officer in the Canadian armed forces, has had 4 wives, bummed around Europe for several years as a circus performer, and was an Olympic table tennis player.
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Appearance: Standing at 5’11”, Alexis is thin to the point it appears a stiff wind could tip him over. His hair is a light brown, cropped short and just starting to turn grey. Alexis was once a business casual kind of guy (under a labcoat, of course), but the recent apocalypse made him reconsider his wardrobe. He’s taken to wearing a set of brown work pants, some trainers and a ratty grey zipped-up hoodie. He protects himself from fungal spores with a white woodworking facemask, having drawn a smiley face on the front.
Weapons: TZ-75, chambered in .40 S&W and carried in a hip holster, and a collection of wickedly sharp medical instruments held in handmade holsters on his person. These include an irresponsibly large amount of scalpels, a set of rib spreaders, and a bone saw.
Supplies: Foregoing more common survival supplies, Alexis packs around what he lovingly refers to as his “Portable Hospital”; a large tan molle pack stuffed to the brim with a massive assortment of medical supplies. From bandages and splints to surgical implements, and legally questionable amounts of various medications, Alexis considers himself a walking emergency room. Of course, he hasn't completely ignored other necessities such as food and water, but anything not medically related is crammed into a small butt pouch laced into the bottom of his backpack.
Personality: Alexis’ coping method for dealing with the end of the world is to largely ignore it, appearing cheerful and outgoing to the point of blatant denial.
Backstory: Alexis’ history is hard to gather, largely because of his tendency to make up ridiculous stories about how he’s learned certain things. If everything he’s stated is true, Alexis was raised in Canada, acquired two doctorates from Devry University and the University of Jamaica, was a medical officer in the Canadian armed forces, has had 4 wives, bummed around Europe for several years as a circus performer, and was an Olympic table tennis player.
Put me down for #2.
@thatguy Y'know, I was thinking about making a Hulkbuster before I decided on Shades. Were you planning on making a Modular suit Hulkbuster, or a dedicated platform? Either way'll be sexy as hell.
Yes, James has named his crowbar Gordon. Fuck yeah Half-Life.
James follows the large man; Bishop, he thinks, into the Maze in silence. He pulls his crowbar from the strap on his back and idly twirls it between his fingers as the group congregates inside the doors. When Bishop tries to start conversation again, James presses the prying end of his crowbar against the wall and scrapes it down the concrete. He quickly goes back to twirling the crowbar, smiling. 'Gordon's been with me since I was, what, 15?' He thinks, the crowbar turning to a blur as he twirls it faster and faster. 'Hell, I haven't used another weapon other than my knife since....' The smiled is wiped from his face, replaced by a frown. 'Since before.' James tosses the still spinning crowbar lightly into the air, catching it with his off hand. He was eager to get this over with; no point lollygagging. James turned to the group.
"Ready?"
"Ready?"
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