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Ready for a Bizarre Journey?! (JoJo/JJBA-Based game)

One thing I'm noticing about this group so far is that there's not a lot of directly offensive/combat oriented abilities going on here. Two are straight up support-only no combat at all (seeing through eyes and communicating with the dead, no physical stand presence) one relies on the human-level swordsmanship of its user and can barely harm people/stands making it more utility, and the last is actually a traditional punchghost but with very low power, though a good debilitating effect. As it stands right now, the 8 year old narcoleptic is the most immediately dangerous/directly threatening one here. XD Not saying this is a bad trend, just one I wanted to point out. I can imagine the group dynamic becoming something along the lines of holding the line until the kid falls asleep, then just steering whatever nightmare monster emerges toward the enemy while trying not to get eaten themselves. XD

Ready for a Bizarre Journey?! (JoJo/JJBA-Based game)

@ManyThings

Oberon Puck

Name: Oberon Puck
Gender: Male
Age: 8
Appearance:

Image

Oberon is a young boy of white skin tanned from excessive outdoor exposure, covered in bruises and cuts from having to live on the streets from such an early age. His hair, while messy, is kept short and trimmed (albeit unevenly as he does it himself) with a dark black shade. His muscles are well developed for an eight year old through rigorous exercise, but it’s clear that he’s been malnourished. He likes to wear whatever fits that he can find, but always keeps a blue wool winter hat on, as it gets cold at night.

History
Oberon’s home situation was not ideal, to say the least. His parents married only because his mother was pregnant and refused to get an abortion or put him up for adoption, so his father wed her out of a feeling of responsibility. Unfortunately this led to resentment on all sides, as the father wanted nothing to do with his wife or child, but he despised the idea of having to pay child support even more, so he medicaded his situation through the bottle. Now while Oberon’s father was an abusive drunk, his mother could not be any further from this, eternally a loving and doting parent that provided for him the absolute best that she could. The times it looked as though his father was about to turn his abuse toward the young boy, she always jumped in and took the hit herself.

Whenever the two would fight at night, Oberon would get scared in his bed, hiding beneath the covers and taking comfort in his fairy tale story books and stuffed dragon, Pete. Inevitably every time after they had finished fighting, his mother would always come to check in on him, hiding any bleeding beneath the darkness. Sometimes Oberon would pretend to already be asleep, other times he’d tell her how scared he was. Regardless, her reaction was always the same. She would simply caress the young boy, kiss him on the forehead, and whisper, “Hush little baby, don’t say a word, and nevermind those noises you heard. It’s just the beasts in your head.” Then, feeling his relief, she would leave. Oberon would never have bad dreams because he always felt that he was protected from harm, no matter what.

One unfortunate night was especially terrible. The fighting was louder than normal and Oberon could hear them more clearly than ever. Daddy called him a monster, a monster! Daddy was telling mommy that he hurt his daddy in the middle of the night, gave him a bunch of nasty cuts! How could daddy say these things? He loved his dad, as all small children do oblivious to the terrible situation they live in. His mother thought it was ridiculous and demanded he leave them. That’s when Oberon heard something glass break and his mother scream. And then… Silence. She never came in to check on him that night, to whisper softly for him to fall asleep. He trembled in the covers for hours until the fear couldn’t keep him awake any longer. He finally fell asleep…

Oberon woke up that morning all by himself, hours after he should have already been to school. Why didn’t either of his parents come get him? After brushing his teeth and using the potty, the young boy checked his parents’ bedroom where he found his father. Or rather, the remains of his father, torn to shreds and disemboweled. He ran to the kitchen where he found his mother, dead on the floor with a broken glass bottle shoved into her face. Terrified, he grabbed everything he thought that he would need and shoved it in his backpack, running away. He heard stories about kids that got fostered and didn’t want that to happen. He’d have to live on his own, all alone at eight years old.

Personality
On the outside, Oberon is a cheerful, happy go lucky child that seems naive and overly trusting. He is wary around authority figures like the police and whatnot, but to everyone else he’s perfectly friendly and accomodating, wanting to please others and make them happy. His imagination is quite vivid, and he loves stories and fairy tales. Of course, this is all masking a deep trauma and depression. Emotionally Oberon is stunted from an abusing household, having a mentality younger than his actual age would imply. He’s terrified of reality and of what happened in his home, refusing to talk about the incident and changing the subject if it ever comes up. He is completely unaware that he is a stand user, or that stands exist in general, and would be both ashamed and further traumatized if he ever found out that he (albeit indirectly) killed his own father. Side note, Oberon has developed narcolepsy and is liable to fall asleep at any point unprompted for any reason.

Abilities
Vivid imagination, very artistic, has learned some decent survival skills on the street including scrounging for odds and ends as well as basic first aid.

Stand
Name: Enter Sandman
Namesake: Enter Sandman by Metallica
Appearance: Enter Sandman has a different appearance every time it manifests due to the nature of its ability and how it functions. However, it always has the symbol of a coiled snake somewhere on its body as the telltale sign that these different creatures are in fact the same stand.
Personality: While Enter Sandman is a stand that operates independently of its user’s will (or even knowledge) its level of sapient intelligence is not refined enough to display a human-like personality, behaving much more like an animal than a person. That said, it is instinctively highly intelligent, showing great aptitude with strategy and the abilities granted by whatever form it happens to be taking at the time. It possesses basic knowledge, such as “if prey is on high tower, break tower base and they fall,” or “chase down this way and they are cornered,” and things of that nature. Occasionally it even shows higher level thinking such as “fire will set off the sprinklers” and will use that to its advantage. However it is incapable of communicating with humans or other stands in any way, and it is intensely aggressive to anybody or anything that isn’t its user. In this way it behaves like a wild animal mother protecting its young, and what it deems to be a “threat” to Oberon is a very large umbrella indeed.
Type: Automatic

Destructive Power: B
Speed: B
Range: C (Keeping in mind that the range stats for long distance/automatic stands do not operate under the same principles as close range power stands)
Durability: C
Precision: D
Developmental Potential: A

Ability: Enter Sandman is a stand fueled by the imagination and dreams of its user. It manifests only while Oberon is asleep and takes form based on whatever the boy is dreaming of in that instance. Robots to dragons to unicorns and so on, as Oberon’s imagination is truly a cast and colorful one. What it’s capable of is dependant on the form it has. Thus if it is a dragon then it might be able to breathe fire and smash with its claws, or as a robot shoot lasers from a raygun. Enter Sandman uses these abilities solely for the protection of its user and to eliminate any and all perceived threats. It is also the guardian of Oberon’s dreams and “polices” the boy’s mind in a way, destroying any nightmares to ensure that he only has pleasant, sweet dreams. While this ensures that Enter Sandman always has powerful abilities to work with, it also prevents Oberon from properly dealing with his trauma and growing as a person, stunting both the boy and the stand’s development in the long run.

Ready for a Bizarre Journey?! (JoJo/JJBA-Based game)

Stand Name: Enter Sandman

Power - B
Speed - B
Range - C
Durability - C
Precision - D
Potential - A

Description: Variable
Ability: Enter Sandman is a stand that can only manifest while its user is asleep. The user does not even know they are a stand user or that Enter Sandman exists. It acts as an automatic defense against any potential threats toward its user, attacking viciously like a guard dog. Its perception and reasoning as to what constitutes a “threat” however can be grossly misguided. Its form varies depending on what the user is dreaming of, usually some sort of fantasy or fairy tale creature befitting the imagination of a child.

The idea being that they would be a tagalong kid with a situational power that could be beneficial or detrimental depending on the situation. Also, the kid has narcolepsy.

Ready for a Bizarre Journey?! (JoJo/JJBA-Based game)

@ManyThings screw it. How do you feel about a little kid who isn’t aware of stands in general, but has an automatic stand that only works while he’s asleep?

World of Light

Courier 6 and Ratchet

Level 4 - (34/40) EXP (+3), Level 4 - (4/40)
Location: Castle Garden, Castle Kitchen
Word Count: 1327

Courier Six nodded as Din agreed to simply refer to him as “Courier.” It was all anybody could really call him since that asshole Benny shot him in the head. God what a prick. Well, the Legion liked to call him “profligate” but he didn’t figure that counted as a name. Plus they were all brainwashed tribals anyway. It was Caesar that was the problem there. Heh, ex-problem at any rate. He and Boone got Caesar but good right in the heart of his own camp. What an asshole.

Oh yeah, something was supposed to be happening, right? Right. The dancer was using magic. Oh wow, that worked fast. Dang, that was niiiice. The Courier had to stop himself from drooling over the sight of the barrel cactus sprouting fruit, and the banana peel growing a full yucca complete with more bananas. It was so… Beautiful. A tear fell from the Courier’s eye. Not even the plant experimentations in that vault were this amazing, and Din came with the extra benefit of being friendly, not deadly.

”That settles it,” he began. ”When all this is over, if we find a way to fix our worlds, I’m inviting you back to the Mojave, if’n you’ll take it. The sharecroppers are used to trying to make crops out of irradiated desert soil. They do their best, but a lot a folks go hungry every day.”

He approached the plants and began to harvest the more plentiful ones first, pulling off the banana yucca and the cactus fruit first in order to give the fungus, broc flowers, and xander root more time to spread and multiply. That’s when he heard Din question him in a rather confused tone. Without looking up he answered. ”In a manner of speaking, but not as they are. People like me gotta know how to live off the land. How to find the right ingredients for the right mixture. I can make somethin’ outta anything, I reckon. Bit of a savant that way. For example…”

He pointed to the broc flowers and xander root. ”Crushing the petals of that flower with this root makes a potent healing powder, but it also dizzies the senses. But if’n you can inject it directly in a liquid form…” he continued by pulling out a used stimpack syringe for Din to see. ”It increases in potency and also mitigates the side effects.” He held up the fruit from the barrel cactus. ”On its own, this fruit is just a tasty treat. But mix the fruit juice with some of this fungus and some spore pods, and you get what the Zion tribals call ‘Blood Shield.’ It heals, but not as potently as the healing powder, but also protects you from poisons and venoms. I can make all kinds of chems that boost mental and physical abilities too. I’m still running on my last pill of buffout, a super steroid. I can make you faster, stronger, resistant to damage, think smarter, all manner of things. Even this-” he pulled out the jar of ash he collected from Megadragonbowser’s corpse, ”-I can make into a chem that’ll resist hot temperatures. I can’t exactly explain how it works or how I know that, I just feel and understand what goes together with what to do what I want.”

He put it away, along with all the ingredients he had collected, satisfied with Din’s abilities. Of course, there were a number of amazing plants, and fauna, in this garden to look over as well. Who knows what he could put together with all of it? ”Hell, I could just make you feel really really good, too. Just one downside. A lot of the chems I make are rather addictive, and uh… Well I gotta keep my flow goin’ or I get withdraw somethin’ fierce.”

It was about then that the growing of fruits and plants attracted some attention to the duo. First approached a green dinosaur, cartoonish in proportions, a perfect fit to the castle, Mario, Peach, and Bowser, a strong indicator that it was a native of the area. “Yoshi!” It exclaimed happily, eyeing the barrel cactus growing fruits.

The second to approach was a large bipedal beetle of some kind, with a hard blue shell and impressively large horn. It too gazed upon the fruits of Din’s labors with a clear hunger in its eyes. “Cross. Cross. Heracross!”

The Courier tilted his head at the new arrivals. Something about them seemed intelligent. ”Uh… Hungry boys?”

“Yoshi!”

“Cross!”

”Well then, go at it, I guess?” the Courier shrugged, and both animals sprang into action, needing no further encouragement. The beetle latched itself onto the banana yucca plant, devouring the fruit while facing the ground. The dinosaur let loose a long, sticky tongue onto the barrel cactus. The entire plant tore right out of the ground, completely uprooted, and was summarily swallowed whole. The fact that it was completely covered in needles didn’t deter the dinosaur from its lunch one bit. It’s digestive tract had to be made of iron or something!

“Yoshi!” it cheered with a little happy dance.

“Cross, cross!” the beetle exclaimed, still happily munching on the yucca.

”Alright then, y’all have fun with your food. I’m gonna rustle me up some more ingredients from this garden. Grab some fertilizer, see what other plants are around, that sort of thing. Then I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

---

Ratchet was patiently awaiting some instructions from one of the chefs, the woman hard at work or the princess herself, when a task came from an unlikely source for a completely unrelated matter: Blazermate. The robot approached Ratchet while setting up some sort of structure probably related to that mechanic spirit she had absorbed. The lombax listened to her query: see if he could help make a one way teleporter into a two way teleporter. With a bit of flourish Ratchet pulled out his omniwrench and spun it around a bit, letting the tool come to a rest on his shoulder.

”You’ve come to the right lombax for the job! I’m used to working with ships and other vehicles mostly, but I’ve used more teleporters than I can count. I wouldn’t mind taking a crack at it!” With that he crossed the distance over to the corner of the kitchen where Blazermate had set up her new feat of engineering. Safety first, of course. You want to observe a device before working on it to insure you don’t cause an accident. That’s why Ratchet jumped into it to make sure it was working!

In a bright flash Ratchet reappeared in the receiving end, about four feet away, none the worse for wear. Yup, it was totally operational alright. Time to get down to the nuts and bolts of the machine to gauge its function. He took a good whack at the thing with his wrench, popping open a side panel to inspect the internal wiring. After a good few minutes of looking around he sealed it up again. ”Well, it’s definitely different from any teleporter I’ve ever used. The ones back in my universe operate by disassembling the package, then reassembling on the other end. This seems to operate on the wormhole principle, which means it bends and tears space to eject you to the targeted destination. Thing is, wormholes are only ever a one way trip, so we won’t be getting this into a two way street without completely rebuilding how it works from a foundational level.”

Ready for a Bizarre Journey?! (JoJo/JJBA-Based game)

Not much activity here in the last few days. @ManyThings you might get your players more driven in making those CSes if you post up the OOC or at least a summary of the specifics of how the base story is supposed to go. It can be hard to think of a character background if you don't know what event you're supposed to steer them toward. Also I'd ping them individually to make sure they're still ready to join in.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

The Battle for Denver

Behemoth was taking more punishment than in most of his attacks. That fancy lightshow put on by Tulpa even hurt a bit. When the smoke and dust cleared though, Behemoth was still standing, unimpeded. Considerably smaller, no longer forty-five feet but a more modest twenty-eight, and thinner to match. A huge amount of its body had been taken off in the assault, but ultimately the Endbringer didn't seem to care. More attacks thrust into the monster's body, attacks that only minutes before were showing some damage. Only now they didn't seem to so much as scratch Behemoth, much less cause significant damage. To the experienced in Endbringer battles this was an understood phenomenon, but to the first timers it could be a jarring experience: the more damage dealt to them, the more durable they became. It was this simple fact above all others that made them so terrifying. Behemoth would never stop. No matter what they threw at him, eventually it stopped mattering while the beast was free to continue its rampage. Only one hero in the world could put a stop to the Endbringers permanently.

"Where is Scion?" Alexandria asked into the comms, pounding Behemoth with another two punches before dodging his counterattack.

"Reports indicate Scion was spotted putting out a forest fire in China two minutes ago," Dragon reported back. Behemoth launched another lightning bolt at Alexandria, which was summarily canceled out by a forcefield generated from nowhere. Nearby a woman naked save for a psychedelic pattern of colored force fields and a long horn generated from the same power landed on a rooftop near Alexandria.

"Good to see you got here, Narwhal," Alexandria commented, flying back in for another punch to Behemoth's face.

Once again the sound of thunder cracked against the backdrop of the battle, but something felt off about it. It was not as loud as Behemoth's usual thunderclaps, and the resulting bolt not nearly as large. The energy bolt shot from the ground straight up toward Behemoth's face, striking against the endbringer for a brief moment before dissipating, replaced by a man. Xolotl, lieutenant of the Community, had charged in head first and found his assault completely ineffective. With another thunderclap the self-styled Aztec god transformed and dashed away, landing on a rooftop. When he reformed, he was cradling a stump in the place of his left arm. A reminder of what would happen by attacking the most powerful, complete dynakinetic in the world would do when you were made of electricity.

---

Not too far from the battle, the android Celia was braving the most dangerous rescue environment possible, right near Behemoth where radiation flooded outward. The automaton did not worry for her own safety, lacking the biological components to receive radiation poisoning. If she could rescue any civilians before they took a lethal dose of rads, all the better. With relative ease she lifted up the end of a car, allowing a balding man to crawl away to safety. "Hurry," she ordered. "You're being poisoned."

He picked up the pace, now making a mad dash away. Celia turned her head to observe the Behemoth situation. It had actually wandered back, closer to her position. Dangerously close. She lacked any organic components and thus could survive the ambient radiation, but that kill aura would snuff out her systems as easily as any organic person. Self preservation coding took over and the android dropped the car, taking a leap back. Her launch was interrupted as she collided with...

"Oof!" cried a young woman, both of them bowling over one another. Chris Lange fell back a few feet while Celia simply halted momentum. "Watch where you're going!"

Celia had no time to waste processing power on why this woman was here in ground zero when she seemed to lack any brute defenses. Her stupidity would be her own downfall. Celia instead took off without a word, but not before Behemoth wandered in close enough for his kill aura to intersect her limbs. Power instantly drained from several processors and power sources. For the first time in her short life, Celia experienced fear and that fear focused her remaining processing power into a single action: run!

Chris Lange was not so lucky. Lacking the speed and reaction time of a mechanized android, she failed to so much as get up on one knee before Behemoth's kill aura enveloped her. In an instant all energy was drained from the poor girl's body, snuffing out life like a candle.

---

Sheila's ex boyfriend, now the villain Pester, had kept to the search and rescue team exclusively. His minion summoning meant that he could get in and rescue people without having to put himself in any direct danger, which was especially great in the areas Behemoth had already irradiated. He stood on the outside of a building, sides falling apart since the Endbringer had just walked straight through it, a safe distance away. He could sense that a number of civilians had been trapped in an elevator blocked off by rubble. Child's play, really. Concentrating, he projected his minion into existence and ordered it through the big hole in the wall. Satisfied, he sat back and waited for the results.

"Hehehehehe," came a rather childish chuckle from behind. "I told you we'd fine a good cape here, daddy. Can I fuck him up?"

"Not yet, child," replied another voice. "Remember the truce." Pester snapped around to see who was there. He met eye to eye with none other than Troll and Patriarch. Here? Now? What were they up to? Nothing good, he'd wager.

"What are you doing?" he asked cautiously.

"The same as you," Patriarch replied. "Search and rescue. And I imagine we're a great deal more effective as I command huge swaths of this city, while my daughter here can locate virtually anybody. We, well, I mean no harm. Here's an offer of my goodwill."

He held out an open hand, offering to shake. Pester eyed it warily for a moment, ultimately deciding not to take the risk. Patriarch had tipped just how his powers worked in that broadcast, and he wasn't going to get brainwashed. "I'm good, thanks. But there's a bunch of people trapped in an elevator in there if you want to help."

"So rude," Patriarch shrugged, pulling out a walkie talkie. He barked a few commands into it, and soon enough a whole crew of normal looking citizens came into view from around the corner riding ATVs. The sight distracted Pester from the villains standing behind him, so he never saw the nod Patriarch gave to Troll.

"Sheila's dead, you know. Crushed under Behemoth's foot. Splat! Stuck there like a gum wrapper, hehehehehe!"

Pester gave pause. He didn't turn around, he didn't look back. Was that true? She died? His heart broke in an instant, all sound melting away. All sound, that was, except for the crunch of gravel, the telltale signs of footsteps. He spun around just in time to see Patriarch's outstretched hand mere centimeters from his face. No longer robbed of his senses, Pester had to make a split-second decision. Would he demanifest his minion in order to resummon it for protection, thus abandoning the civilians? Or take his chances kicking Patriarch's ass himself?

Leaving those people in danger wasn't an option. One foot swept up fast and hard as he could, aiming straight for Patriarch's sensitive tool. BANG! Pester fell to the ground, his kick incomplete, blood draining from his chest. Troll giggled, haphazardly waving her gun around. "Looks like the cum rag forgot about me! Now you can do whatever you want with him, daddy."

Patriarch turned slowly to stare down his lieutenant, eyes piercing through the mask. He held his cane out as if to strike her, and she cowered appropriately, whole body trembling. "He is of no use like this. He'll probably die before he can be made useful... But he did make us aware of several people just inside the building. Get up, girl. We're refocusing."

---

Behemoth continued to carve a bloody swath through the city of Denver. More capes attacked, trying to knock him down or hurt him, and few even made it long enough to land a hit. Fewer still managed to deal any sort of measurable damage. Even with the extra weapons provided by Muramasa, distributed by Margrave, most of them couldn't even deal scratch damage to Behemoth. Meanwhile, absolutely nothing indicated that he would stop his rampage anytime soon. Nothing indicated his powers were even slightly fatigued. Sinkholes from below, arrows from afar, tornado vortexes, it didn't matter. Behemoth let out another bloodcurdling roar, the force of which was so powerful that two nearby capes were killed from their bones splintering.

The Endbringer made its way toward an office building, pushing through a series of forcefields erected by the Canadian hero Narwhal. The attack was not tactical, nor planned by the monstrous creature, but the building it attacked was of some importance to a specific group within Denver: the mafia. As reports came through the comms, Purge sighed in resignation. There was nothing he could do except to continue cleaning up the debris blocking the way to civilians. But Vanish had other plans.

"Boss," he said, speaking into a private communication device linked directly to Purge. "I'm going to stop it."

"You know you can't stop it, Vanish! Cut our losses, get out of there!" Purge yelled back.

"I haven't had these powers long enough to know what I can and can't do. All know is that your plans are worth my life."

"Get the fuck out of there Benito! Get ou-" He was cut off as Vanish turned off the signal, then dropped it to his feet. With a crunch it was crushed beneath his boot, immediately followed by another crunch as Behemoth stepped onto a nearby car. Vanish looked up at the approaching Endbringer, resigned to his fate.

"Hope this works." He placed both hands against the building, commanding his power to work. Slowly but surely the concrete and bricks began to disappear in a radial effect spreading out from the epicenter of his touch. Fast at first, the effect slowed significantly the more and more it spread to cover the large building. "Come on... Come... Ooooon~!" The Italian man forced his power harder than he'd ever done before when something clicked. Suddenly the process sped back up, quickly enveloping the entire structure. All that remained was a vacant lot with a single villain standing at the edge.

"Heh... Heh..." he panted. "I did it..."

The sound of thunder punctuated the man's relief, lightning putting a swift end to his joy. All that remained of Vanish was a charred skeleton next to a large building which sprang back up into existence. As if to mock the dead man's efforts and determination, Behemoth released a wave of blazing flames, enveloping the structure in a raging inferno. No longer interested, the endbringer turned its attention back to the capes engaging it in battle.

Boom! A rocket exploded right in Behemoth's face. The monstrosity didn't even flinch, but that certainly got its attention.

"I've been away, but Denver is still my home!" A man dressed up in a cowboy getup stood tall and proud a few hundred feet away from Behemoth. His arms, clearly mechanical, had split into no less than six smaller arms, each one wielding a deadly weapon. "And I've made meself some upgrades, pardner."

Arsenal had returned to face down Behemoth in his own personal standoff. The nearby Triumvirate, Alexandria, Eidolon, and Legend each looked upon the young man with fear or disappointment. Legend even cried out to Arsenal, knowing all too well how this would turn out. But Arsenal chose not to back down. Bullets and lasers blazed a path of glory straight to the Endbringer's chest, pounding into Behemoth like an entire army. More rockets launched, locked onto Behemoth's energy signature. The arms constantly rotated, switching out the weapons being fired while automatically reloading the empty ones. The whole time Behemoth simply stood there, taking every single bullet, every single laser, every explosive, almost like it was making a statement. That statement was "your attacks are useless."

After a solid minute of hitting Behemoth with every single thing he had, Arsenal finally ran out of ammo. Even the laser guns had run out of power, cells drained of energy. Behemoth looked down at the cowboy cyborg with no emotion. It was only then that Arsenal had realized what a horrible mistake he had made. He turned tail and ran.

Lightning struck. Arsenal was no more.

---

In the main medical camp not too far away from the PRT headquarters, Director Kens let out a groggy moan. A nurse immediately rushed to his side. "Uuugh. My everything hurts." he moaned, eyes still closed.

"Director, you need to rest. You pushed yourself with this injury far too much already."

The director nodded, still keeping his eyes closed. "Yeah. I understand." Suddenly, the boom of thunder jolted his eyes open. The director attempted to sit up, but was kept restained by the nurse. He glanced around quickly, trying to take note of the situation. This wasn't the PRT medical bay. So then where was... ?

"Report the situation," he ordered, the man's normal "authority" voice kicking in. The nurse nodded weakly.

"It's Behemoth, sir. While you were out, Behemoth launched an attack."

"Jesus Christ. How long has this been going on?"

"About forty minutes now, sir."

Forty minutes. The death toll would already be high, no doubt. And Behemoth was the most durable of the three. He could keep going and going. "What about Scion?"

"Sir, last reports about Scion's location came in three minutes ago. He was last seen in Brazil, stopping the flooding of a small village."

---

Injured: Xolotl, Celia, Pester
Dead: Chris Lange, Vanish, Arsenal

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Maxwell York (A.K.A Southpaw)

Southpaw

Name: Maxwell York
Alias: Southpaw
Age: 17
Alignment: Rogue
Loyalty: Currently Independent
Appearance: Average height and build (5’8” 135 lbs), olive brown skin, brown eyes, dark hair. Usually wears outfits that are comfortable and loose, such as a tank top and basketball shorts. His costume consists of a simple cowl mask that shows off his hair, a pair of black gloves with bands of metal across the knuckles to enhance non powered up punches, and a pair of shorts. While out in costume he is usually shirtless and bristling with scales across his chest.
History: Maxwell was not born into money, his parents loving but poor and his father a gambler by nature, something that he picked up in his younger years. He and his younger sister were raised on the concept that the only reliable thing in life was the luck that you made, putting in the effort to push themselves forward was the only way they were going to get anywhere. His father keeping him close while he worked so that he could pick up his trade as an electrician, and by fifteen he had picked up enough knowledge that he could understand how to set up and maintain wiring and repair some forms of electronics. But he knew that being an electrician wasn't something he wanted to spend his entire life stuck doing, so it was that when Maxwell saw the flyer in the school hallway for an after school boxing club he took the chance and signed up. And after a few months of training and some rather impressive bouts for someone so young he found that he had a knack for taking a beating. He continued boxing all the way into his senior year of high school, where unbeknownst to him his father had made a bet with his boss that his boy would make it to the national level. Not knowing that in early spring, a week and a half before the qualifiers an accident would befall Maxwell that would leave him nearly dead and lying in the hospital, swollen and unconscious after accidentally provoking a swarm of bees.

Trigger: Entomophobia your sister had told you, and with your allergies it made sense. Though admitting that you couldn't handle a stray house spider wasn't exactly easy. You were cautious, that was all. But not cautious enough it seemed... all it took was a misplaced step, tripping over a root in the path and you stumbled into the tree, your head colliding with something soft that crunched like paper. And less than a second later you could hear them. The buzzing of hundreds of angry bees, you'd smashed your head against a low hanging hive and now, well it wasn't going to be pretty. The first sting was near your elbow, and you yelped out in pain and swatted at the spot, your hand coming away smeared with the squashed remains of the bee. And then it was open season, like an army they swarmed down upon you, crawling across your skin until they could find a place to bury their killer stings. You'd never been one to panic, always able to stay on top of your emotions, but you could feel the fear welling in you. "Don't let them sting near your throat, your eyes, if you swell to much you will suffocate, protect with one hand crush with the other." You set to the task of crushing each and every insect as it stabbed you, you could hear your blood rushing in your ears. "It hurts. IT HURTS!" you yell, "STOP YOU LITTLE BASTARDS" but the little soldiers continued, their order was to protect the queen or die trying. One by one you killed them, rasping through a throat that wouldn't give you the oxygen you need. Fighting until with a sudden flash, you trigger.

Now worried what his boss might do when he couldn't pay up Maxwell's father sent his children to Denver to live with their aunt in her apartment. Just until he was able to find the money.

Personality

Motivations: Money, comfort, keeping his family safe. He's a pretty simple guy when it comes to what keeps him going.
Sexuality: Closeted Bisexual
Likes:

• His family
• Big paychecks
• Painting miniatures/making models
• Bubblegum (Always has some on him)
• Boxing
• Betting

Dislikes:

• Insects, spiders, creepy crawly things
• Being in someone's debt
• Cars (Gets carsick easily)
• Forced Drama

Derangement: Has a debilitating fear of insects, to the point where even the mention of them will make his skin crawl and push up goosebumps as his body reflexively attempts to push out scales. His skin also gets incredibly itchy when the scales have been extended for to long in a single place, feeding into that paranoia that there are insects crawling on him.

Parahumanism

Skills: Electrical Experience, Trained Boxer, CPR certified
Classification: Brute
Details: An armadillo brute who can reflexively grow black iron scales across roughly half his body at a single moment. These scales are densely packed and nearly impervious to physical damage while at the same time work to enhance the strength of whatever part of his body they cover, offering him the strength to shatter concrete or tank hits that would pulp flesh. The scales themselves can take some heavy punishment, able to take hits from Endbringer level super strength without breaking, not to say the rest of his body would survive that sort of strain.
Limitations: Scales cannot cover the entirety of his body and make him invulnerable, only able to grow across roughly half his body at once. And while his enhanced strength does absorb a lot of shock from impacts it cannot stop unprotected areas from suffering strain, meaning he has to be careful how he supports and distributes them when fighting against opponents who outclass his super strength.
Equipment: A pair of homemade hard knuckle gloves, finger-less with metal built into the knuckles at the base of his fingers.

Character being submitted for GM approval. @ProPro

@De

Apologies I didn't get to this yesterday like I said that I had hoped I'd be able to. In any case, this character is approved, though I hope you have some ideas on what you'll plan to do with him since he seems a bit listless and without any direction. You can have him join the current Behemoth fight, or you can wait until the aftermath. It's your choice.

Ready for a Bizarre Journey?! (JoJo/JJBA-Based game)

Close range, yeah.

Ready for a Bizarre Journey?! (JoJo/JJBA-Based game)

If you want me to add, delete, specify, or otherwise change this, hit me up.

'Cuz I'm a Dragon Slayer, girl!

Name: Daniel Traube
Gender: Male
Age:19
Appearance:
Standing in at Five feet eleven inches, Daniel has a pretty average body shape, and isn't super athletic. He doesn't go outside much resulting in pretty pale skin. He usually takes his Beanie off indoors, as well as his jacket.

History
Born to a single Father, who ran and owned a History Museum, Daniel always found the place exciting, especially the weaponry. Cannons, Sabers, Bows and Arrows, all were fascinating to him. Rather than seeing them as weapons of war, Daniel saw them as a form of art. The ingenuity, mechanics, and inventiveness of them was often astounding. Not to mention each person usually poured their heart and soul into them for older weapons.

It was when Daniel turned 16 that the power of the Stand awakened to him. A new exhibit had appeared overnight, according to Daniel. His father and his friends told him he was a little to old to be playing pretend. He even tried taking pictures and showing them, but to no avail. To Daniel, a beautiful swords with a platinum sheen hung on the wall seemingly on its own. Pulling the sword off of the wall, he noticed an inscription along the hilt. "DRAGON SLAYER" it read. Setting the sword down, it immediately dissipated. Daniel stood in confusion, before getting the idea to call out to it. Calling out "Dragon Slayer" and holding his hand out, the sword appeared back in his hand.

Daniel would spend the next three years figuring out the sword, and its seemingly magical properties.

Personality
While a keen interest in weaponry may raise a red flag or two, Daniel knows he would never hurt another person unless his life depended on it. While somewhat introverted, Daniel is always game for meeting new friends, and learning something new.

Abilities
History buff- Being the son of a history museum owner generally gives you a keen understanding of history.
Sword proficiency- Wielding Dragon Slayer for 3 years, Daniel has taught himself how to use it.
Charismatic- Talking to people nearly every day, Daniel has learned what to say and when to say it to get people interested in what he has to say.

Stand
Name: Dragon Slayer
Namesake: The song "Dragon Slayer" by NSP
Appearance:
The whole Sword is about 5 feet long. The blade appears to be made of some sort of stainless steel, with gold ornaments and blue leather-like wrappings around the hilt. The sword is almost weightless, and can be wielded with one hand, but the hilt is big enough for two hands.

Personality: N/A
Type: Bound (Think Emperor, or Thoth)

Destructive Power: "A" on nonliving things "D" on living things.

Speed: Null. Dragon Slayer is on object, and cannot move on its own.

Range: "E" as Dragon Slayer is a Sword, and is only about 5 feet long.

Durability: "B" Dragon Slayer has a higher durability than steel, like that of titanium, and does not reflect damage to it's user. If Dragon Slayer is broken, it dissipates, and Daniel must wait a short while before he is able to re-summon it

Precision: Null. The precision is entirely reliant on the user. Daniel would probably have a "C"

Developmental Potential: "D" there might be a thing or two Daniel could learn to do with his Stand, but not a whole lot.

Ability: Dragon Slayer has the Ability to slice through almost any nonliving thing. Cars, buildings, and boulders can be cut through like a hot knife through butter. Against living things however, he might as well be using a lead pipe. Stands are counted as living things.

@Lord Orgasmo

Small note about bound stands, if it's not overstepping. I'm not the GM by a long shot, but I'm filled with encyclopedic-like knowledge that I enjoy sharing. Emperor isn't a bound stand, it's a stand that looks like a gun. A bound stand is one that inhabits a real physical object, like Thoth and Supafly. Emperor (and by extension as it looks to be your Dragon Slayer) is a summonable stand that happens to look like an object. If this were a sword-bound stand, it'd be more like Anubis: A physical sword anybody can see and touch and interact with.