Pyro V

Kingdom Hearts: Darkness Reborn

Double said 1. This one is sort of the elephant in the room. At least one will be incorporated in ways I will choose not to reveal for spoilery reasons. But what I'm asking is should the party be allowed to have them. The issue I'm thinking of is that if everyone has one, then that diminishes their overall value, but if only one or two is allowed to have one then it suddenly becomes unfair to everyone else. Should Keyblades simply be banned in terms of player characters?

2. You'll notice that the plot hook kind of goes out of its way to avoid mentioning them. This is because I simply have no idea what to do with them at present. I can imagine they would just kind of fade away since Sora defeating the Organization kind of made them become irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Any thoughts or whatever concerning this? *shrugs*

Keyblades should be limited to one/two people in the group. It should be applied for via PM and accepted that way. Recommend that people have other plans other than being a keyblade wielder, since it is likely they may not be accepted. Otherwise, don't have Keyblades.

So long as there are Heartless, there are Nobodies. However, without powerful Nobodies like Organization XIII, the Nobodies essentially have no purpose, and really wouldn't do much other than attack anything they came across. Heartless are different, as their purpose is to steal Hearts. Nobodies don't even have that. So, unless you have a powerful Nobody, such as on par with an Organization member, then they will essentially be irrelevant.

But yeah, interested.

Mirrored Fate

I like cookies.

Fallout: Rebirth of the Enclave Eagle Point Barracks

Agent Name:

Alexander Callahan

Agent Code Name:

Bear

Age:

Thirty-Five

Gender:

Male

Appearance:

Picture encouraged for the portrait!

Armor:

Collosus Tesla Armor

Clothing:

A thick pair of khaki jeans, a white shirt, and a thick brown coat that reaches to his knees.

Weapons:

Gatling Laser, Plasma Defender, Combat Knife

Miscellaneous items:

Sunglasses when outside and not in his armor.

Forces of habit:

Will normally pace around if forced to stand rather than sit for extended periods of time.

Biography:

"There are stories, you know, of the White Bears. Few years back, 'fore the Enclave got up here, White Bears ran most of the area. Towns 'nd villages were under their control, paying tribute 'nd such. Vaults that were open usually had a few of the Bears in them, to make sure they stayed open to give their food and munitions to the tribe.

The Bears were probably the strongest and most powerful force this side of Canada for the longest time. They went on a bloody path through the eastern snowlands, swooping down from up north, curling around the south, and then coming into the center, forming their new territory around the area. All tribes that didn't submit were destroyed, the men butchered, the women raped, and the children enslaved. Hell, most that did were split in half, some integrating while others were murdered. But, the worst of them all was Magnus, the Beast of the North.

Bastard was one mean son of a bitch. No one really saw his face, knew who he really was. Wore one of the old world gas masks over, as if scared to show his face. Or, perhaps, to scare those who fear the unknown. You always knew when Magnus was there. Had a big ol' laser minigun, probably looted from one of them Vaults, and the black he wore made him stand out in the snow. He really was a bear among men.

But then rolled in the Enclave. The Bears were used to going up against tribals and poorly trained militias. Even the Vaults were childish in their security. The Enclave, there was a trained army. Bears put up a hell of a fight, but they all knew it was a losing battle. Those that didn't die, scattered. Magnus, they never found him. On the field of the last battle of th White Bears, they founded a cracked gas mask and a burnt out minigun. The bloody trail of Magnus ended there. But everyone knows he ain't dead. He's hiding. Scheming. Hating. And we all fear the day he returns, because it will be with a vengeance."

Alexander began his life in a small town on the edge of Enclave territory, making a name for himself as an excellent hunter and probably the toughest son of a bitch around. From drunk brawls to shootouts between enemy towns, Alex would be the one to come out on top. His name only grew as he left the town, moving around to the bigger settlements to take up larger and more dangerous jobs, as if mocking death's inability to grab him.

Having shown to be quite proficient in the art of killing things and his seemingly inability to die, the mayor of one of the larger settlements brought him in as a personal bodyguard, which Alexander generously accepted. This cushy life kept him happy for nearly a year, until the boredom of monotony set in. Quitting that job, and having to shoot his way out of an angry mob of guards while leading his own faction of "Mayor-Haters", Alex made his escape while inadvertently causing an overthrow of the government in that city.

To avoid a repeat of the last job, Alexander, much to his distaste, joined up with the Enclave. After his initial refusal to be among the common troop, and proving his efficiency in most ranged weaponry, he was allowed to become a heavy trooper... Though, even that was too comfortable for him. He needed something more, something exciting, something dangerous. He needed something that would get his blood pumping, and that would drive fear into the hearts of other men.

So, naturally, he'd practically throw himself at anything that proved to be more of a challenge to someone of his talent.

--

The events of Idaho changed Alexander very little. He is still reclusive and quiet among the Enclave, and even to his fellow team members. In fact, some would say that he has become even more distanced than he had been before. This reservation and distance, he feels, will keep him emotionally detached when the rest of his squad dies. And, if asked, he would assure anyone that the rest of the squad would die on one of their missions. Even him.

Directly after Idaho, he began to spend even more time with Dimitri, which was saying something. The time he spent there, however, was not idle. Modifications, upgrades, were made to his right arm. Steel and copper were woven into his flesh and around his bones, augmenting his steadiness, his strength, even the speed at which he could draw. Skin was regrown around the improved arm, and other than a few laceration scars, none could tell the difference. And none were told, other than those that needed to be. To the Enclave, the improvements in his arm were simply implants, standard for most of the veterans. Not even Andrew was told about the cybernetics. And the Bear intended to keep it that way.

Extra:

Fallout: Rebirth of the Enclave

CS edited into last post. Probably could've just made it a new one, but whatever.

Just need to find an image eventually.

Fallout: Rebirth of the Enclave

Agent Name:

Alexander Callahan

Agent Code Name:

Bear

Age:

Thirty-Five

Gender:

Male

Armor:

Collosus Tesla Armor

Clothing:

A thick pair of khaki jeans, a white shirt, and a thick brown coat that reaches to his knees.

Weapons:

Gatling Laser, Plasma Defender, Combat Knife

Miscellaneous items:

Sunglasses when outside and not in his armor.

Forces of habit:

Will normally pace around if forced to stand rather than sit for extended periods of time.

Biography:

"There are stories, you know, of the White Bears. Few years back, 'fore the Enclave got up here, White Bears ran most of the area. Towns 'nd villages were under their control, paying tribute 'nd such. Vaults that were open usually had a few of the Bears in them, to make sure they stayed open to give their food and munitions to the tribe.

The Bears were probably the strongest and most powerful force this side of Canada for the longest time. They went on a bloody path through the eastern snowlands, swooping down from up north, curling around the south, and then coming into the center, forming their new territory around the area. All tribes that didn't submit were destroyed, the men butchered, the women raped, and the children enslaved. Hell, most that did were split in half, some integrating while others were murdered. But, the worst of them all was Magnus, the Beast of the North.

Bastard was one mean son of a bitch. No one really saw his face, knew who he really was. Wore one of the old world gas masks over, as if scared to show his face. Or, perhaps, to scare those who fear the unknown. You always knew when Magnus was there. Had a big ol' laser minigun, probably looted from one of them Vaults, and the black he wore made him stand out in the snow. He really was a bear among men.

But then rolled in the Enclave. The Bears were used to going up against tribals and poorly trained militias. Even the Vaults were childish in their security. The Enclave, there was a trained army. Bears put up a hell of a fight, but they all knew it was a losing battle. Those that didn't die, scattered. Magnus, they never found him. On the field of the last battle of th White Bears, they founded a cracked gas mask and a burnt out minigun. The bloody trail of Magnus ended there. But everyone knows he ain't dead. He's hiding. Scheming. Hating. And we all fear the day he returns, because it will be with a vengeance."

Alexander began his life in a small town on the edge of Enclave territory, making a name for himself as an excellent hunter and probably the toughest son of a bitch around. From drunk brawls to shootouts between enemy towns, Alex would be the one to come out on top. His name only grew as he left the town, moving around to the bigger settlements to take up larger and more dangerous jobs, as if mocking death's inability to grab him.

Having shown to be quite proficient in the art of killing things and his seemingly inability to die, the mayor of one of the larger settlements brought him in as a personal bodyguard, which Alexander generously accepted. This cushy life kept him happy for nearly a year, until the boredom of monotony set in. Quitting that job, and having to shoot his way out of an angry mob of guards while leading his own faction of "Mayor-Haters", Alex made his escape while inadvertently causing an overthrow of the government in that city.

To avoid a repeat of the last job, Alexander, much to his distaste, joined up with the Enclave. After his initial refusal to be among the common troop, and proving his efficiency in most ranged weaponry, he was allowed to become a heavy trooper... Though, even that was too comfortable for him. He needed something more, something exciting, something dangerous. He needed something that would get his blood pumping, and that would drive fear into the hearts of other men.

So, naturally, he'd practically throw himself at anything that proved to be more of a challenge to someone of his talent.

Extra:

Despite his appearance and what you might have heard of Alexander, he seems to be quite the upbeat guy. Just don't bring up the White Bears.

Mirrored Fate

IVIasterJay said
Meanwhile, in a dark tower above the... peaceful?... city, a dark presence watches our group of heroes, through a three-sizes-too-big telescope.

While maliciously rubbing their hands together and chuckling darkly while the camera angle hides their face.

Exoria: A Galaxy on the Verge of Corruption

Vash said
Good point.And no spider people. I'll kill them on sight.

What about stripper-clowns?

Fallout: Rebirth of the Enclave

Alright, can we come from different walks of life, or are we all Vault Rats?

Worthington's Academy for the Supernatural (Now with More Bats!)

Sora1297 said Also, violence is allowed, but please don't rip out a guys entrails and hold them above his head while he slowly dies. We're not monsters (:3)

How dare you limit my freedom to rip out a man's entrails and hold them above his head while he slowly dies! I have rights!

But yeah, CS will be on the way soon.

EDIT: Another Pyro. Must fight for dominance.

Fallout: Rebirth of the Enclave Intchk

Fallout RP not centered around survival? I like it! I want in.