Avatar of ML
  • Last Seen: 11 mos ago
  • Old Guild Username: Mercenary Lord
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 1361 (0.34 / day)
  • VMs: 2
  • Username history
    1. ML 5 yrs ago
    2. ██████████████ 11 yrs ago
  • Latest 10 profile visitors:

Status

Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
hey can i be a guild mod
7 likes
4 yrs ago
hey can i be a guild mod
13 likes
5 yrs ago
new name, same piss poor time management
2 likes
5 yrs ago
if you have a "craving", write a story on your own, that way when you inevitably lose interest and quit you're only wasting your own time
4 likes
6 yrs ago
factory-engines roar like false lions, blood thunders in the dock-pipes

Most Recent Posts

I have serious plans for my non-serious power, rest assured
I haven't really seen a shift in tone
<Snipped quote by Sep>

@Bork Lazer 's Platypus steals the show. Somehow Bork can make me laugh like no one else on this site, like he did with this drunken masterpiece (also, for funny sheets, I have to mention this from @rocketrobie2). Playtpus is so cool because it takes a genuinely funny joke concept and then goes on to elevate it into a real character that's got a lot of heart to him. This is the sheet that inspired me to join the game. The idea of taking a shitpost idea like that and weaving it into something cool is really appealing to me. If Bork can maintain that mix of comedy and genuine character development in the game (as I'm sure he can), we'll be in for a helluva time.

If I had to pick a character that cannot lay eggs, I'm going with @ML 's Boxbender. The stranger the power the more I tend to like a concept, and this guy's power is certainly out of the box. Add to that the fact that he's more or less a normal joe in a world of cyborgs, aliens, and alien-cyborgs, does a lot to sell the concept for me, he's positioned to be a wonderful straight man.


Thanks chief

We some kinda suicide squad?

No, no. We're the shitpost squad
only 1 magic user allowed ever
man makes a list of characters but gives them his own nicknames classic
they can form cliques
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
B O X B E N D E R (B. B.)


William "Bill" McCreary Male 18 Indianapolis, IN
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:


"Witty quote, haha."

Bill is a fish-out-of-water, having moved across the country to go to University of Washington on scholarship for industrial engineering. A Midwestern boy through-and-through, he's still getting used to rain and rent. After an amicable breakup with his short-term girlfriend from back home, he is taking a bit of time to explore himself as a person. That meant new friends, some one-night-stands, weed...the usual suspects. This was all going quite well until he woke up in a boxcar in Montana. After that, he popped out of a car's gearbox while taking a flight over Minnesota.

After many, many irritating calls to his parents and friends, Bill has succeeded in getting his ability under more control, to disastrous effect. Disastrous to everyone else, naturally. Takeout just doesn't taste the same when a six foot teenager materializes inside the box.

Of course, Bill's professors have yet to understand the incredible gift he's been given, and he still has homework and a social life to maintain. He balances an early college career with experimenting with his newfound powers, as they don't seem to make any sense at all. Why boxes? Why him? There was also that time he was in a cardboard box that was dropped into a fire, and the area around him exploded, extinguished the fire, and left a five foot crater in the pavement. That was weird, too.

A B I L I T I E S:


Bill's ability is specifically the ability to teleport (or 'jump') into any object that is generally agreed to be a box of some variety. The box must be closed to be jumped into, and he will be forcefully ejected to the nearest space which he can fit in if the box is opened. He requires either visual contact with the box, or knowledge of the box's presence to perform the jump. Once he has seen a box or been informed of the box, Bill can sense the box's location for up to twenty feet. This is separate to line-of-sight jumping, which seems to have no limit to range.

Bill's body contorts to perfectly fill the space which he teleports to. He is able to exert force on the box from the inside to open it, but if something like a safe is locked, he will remain trapped in the box. While in the box, Bill feels no pain, maintains a five-sense awareness of the area around him, and imparts a field of invulnerability to the box while it remains in box form (that is, unopened). He can impart force on the box, but not as a telekinetic would, but rather in the way that a hamster rolls its ball. The contents of the box are unharmed by his presence. Small items and clothing will enter the box with him, but any object that can't fit in his pockets normally will be dropped on the floor where he originally started.

There are many facets of this ability that aren't understood. In a life threatening situation, Bill will automatically warp to the nearest box within twenty feet. If a box is dropped into something which would destroy it when the invulnerability ends, the box emits a frightful amount of shockwave energy in a five foot radius until the threat is cleared. If it can't be cleared, Bill is ejected to a safe area within fifty feet of the box. These, and other, facets have left Bill scratching his head as to what the hell his power is, what its limits are, and why the hell it is so obsessed with storage containers.

He's working on an ingredient-structure alignment chart as to what constitutes a box, because a circular plastic tupper-ware container seems to count, but a backpack does not. Does the material count? Does the shape count? Bill doesn't know, but he will find out or get high trying.


C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:


Bill's most obvious goal is to maintain his scholarship. It's not a particularly difficult task, but eighty percent of his friends are wannabe stoners, and he has a hundred more interesting things to do with his time now.

He's as good a person as anyone, and now with his oddly specific abilities, he figures he might be able to do some good with it. Maybe he can't fight crime directly, but he can sit inside the boombox of someone's room and change the channel to distract those inside from the police about to break down the door. Or maybe he breaks into the personal penthouse of a rich guy and redistributes some of the wealth. He's still figuring out how teleporting between boxes is a useful skill for a superhero.

Of particular interest to Bill is his ability's self-defense trigger. If it was just jumping between boxes, he would chalk it up to being just a weird space-manipulation ability. But the drastic countermeasures to physical danger leave him wondering a little bit more about the limits of his abilities. Okay, a lotta bit more. He's not obsessed or anything, but he definitely has thrown himself into a nonzero number of suicidal situations to see what the outcome would be. In that sense, he is a thrill-seeker.

The most obvious role for Bill is espionage. If a box-like object exists in an area within his range, he is the perfect spy. His other role is tactical micronuke. Step 1: put him in a small, weak box. Step 2: throw him at something which is sure to destroy the box upon his leaving it. Step 3: enjoy the invisible eradication of a small chunk of reality. This is somewhat of a problem if one is trying to be nonlethal.


C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

Bill is meant to be a sort of straight-man in a world of powered people. I would be shooting for creative implementations of the core concept, but also reveal a little more of the boxbending lore I've constructed for this power.

Technically a small, hollow cube would be considered his 'equipment', since it gives him latitude in movement. One very strong one and one very weak one covers his bases.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S:


---
what say you to a very shy girl with deadly venom

... and she's a ginger.


sounds familiar
poly's idea of heaven was to be brought back to life using the power of computer simulations to spearpoint the expansion of humanity into interstellar space

I think we might be able to pull that off someday
Peterson's mouth had been open to reply when the Tower cut in. The man looked slightly peeved to be interrupted, but when the interrupter was a titan of a man with superbones and superstrength, minor irritation was all that was safe. "Ahem." He smoothed the ruffled look back to neutral. "I have full faith in your competency. When the job is completed, our rendezvous will be on the outskirts of Denver. There's a Bed and Breakfast at 112 Wood street, Deck two."

At the blank expression from ET, Peterson sighed. "Denver has three levels of buildings in the downtown, with corresponding road networks. Deck two is the middle one. Your phone can get you there, but make sure you're using encrypted satellites. Otherwise we won't be there when you arrive, and you won't get your information." The man stood, waving to the pretty waitress. "Gotta run. Leila will show you to the truck, and whatever else you might need. Good luck."


CURRENT DATE -- 24/05/2047, 10:00PM
.// Carolex Industrial Complex //.


"This is stupid," ET said for the fifth time. His voice came out of Gabby the supersuit, mangled, pitched-shift, and robotic. He, Stardust, and Void were riding in the back of the truck, while Tower drove. He gave off the most "truck-driver"-y aura of the four of them.

Void glanced at him in what could only be described as amused annoyance. "And?"

ET just shook his head. Nothing else to say, and they were slowing down anyway. Finally. He reached out to the electronics around him, and froze.

Unidentified truck on approach.

Copy that, Batra. Orders from Nawar are to stop any incoming threats. I think this counts?

Yes, sir. Setting up the rail now.

ET's heart suddenly felt three sizes too small. He desperately reached out to the railgun platform converging on their position. Hey there, friend. You don't want to fire on that truck. Lots of little baby railguns inside. What would your mother say?

After a few minutes, ET heard the first security officer again. Weird. The gun's having some targeting issues. Keeps saying the truck is one of our own.

Couldn't be, Batra. The boss specifically said to stop ANYONE coming in. They're taking this tip seriously. Switch to manual.

Yes, sir. Switching now.

"Fuck," ET hissed. He jumped into the local channel that had been provided to them. In a small fit of genius, ET had managed to set himself up as the primary interface between a series of dumb headsets. His powers couldn't be hacked or intercepted, so it was the safest way to communicate. "Okay, so this was a shitty plan, and we've got a railgun incoming. Get out of the truck now!"


CURRENT DATE -- 24/05/2047, ~10 PM
.// Carolex Experimental, Southwest Wing //.


In the blink of an eye, a new window appeared in the four-foot structural wall. Behind it, five forms in unmarked black armor held guns, outstretched fingers, and a variety of objects floating in the air. "Snake, clear the room," said the front-most form.

One of the forms vanished, returning in a moment with a struggling man, eyes wide with terror. "Not quite clear, Owl."

Owl tilted his head, then shook it. "Civilian. No powers. No threat. Fox, restrain him and put him down safely."

The figure surrounded by floating rocks nodded, pointing a hand at the civilian. Bands of rebar snapped from the hole in the wall, bending around the man and securing him firmly to the wall.

The group moved out of the room, ignoring the suddenly blaring sirens.
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