shivershiver — Roleplayer Guild

Despite all of Oskar’s precautions, the screen door slammed against the wooden door frame before clicking shut, a familiar sound for Max, his three year old Leonberger. The massive dog scrambled up from his bed in the kitchen and ran to the door just in time to see his master walking away. With a sharp bark, however, he quickly gained Oskar’s attention. The man released a deep sigh, slowly turning around and kneeling down to the dog’s level, the screen separating the two. Max scratched eagerly at the mesh with his massive paws, tongue lolling, which provoked a chuckle from Oskar. “**Sorry friend, but I don’t think pubs here let dogs in**,” he spoke to his companion in German, the language he was trained in, as if the animal would understand it more than English. Max cocked his head in confusion. “**No, not even you. Stay here and hold the fort down, I’ll be back soon.**” Oskar turned his back on his furry friend, who let out a brief whimper as he watched his master walk out of sight. Ever since they met beneath the Watzmann, a mountain in Germany, the two were almost inseparable; Oskar took him on all his assignments, and found comfort knowing he had a friend no matter where he went. Now was one of the few occasions he was forced to abandon Max, and it wasn’t very easy for either of them. Oskar reached the small garage adjacent to his brother’s house, where two cars and a covered motorcycle sat in silence. He tore off the oil-stained sheet and tossed it aside, briefly taking a moment to admire the revealed machine. Once Oskar realized he’d be stuck in America for a while, he bought the first thing with a motor and wheels he could find, which ended up to be a rusted black 1970 BMW R75/5. The journalist always wanted a motorcycle, but with his work taking him all over the globe, lugging a vehicle around wasn't very practical; taxis always did the job just fine. In his spare time, which Oskar had a lot of given his almost fugitive status, he worked on the bike with the limited mechanical skills he learned from the internet. It almost seems as if the man had done more harm than good, stripping the motorcycle of all nonessential parts, but it was a style of sorts. Oskar donned his grey leather jacket and strapped his full face black helmet on before firing up the motorcycle. The exhaust didn’t compare to the rumbling Harleys that roamed Haye, but it belted out a pleasant tune. Oskar rolled the bike outside, warming up the old engine, and looked up just in time to notice the tall grass besides the driveway stirring. While Oskar’s brother lived outside of the city limits, it was still uncommon to see wildlife roaming around the property, as they lived in a small community with neighbors close by. That is, it was uncommon until Oskar moved in. He spotted a long snout dusted with white and brown fur emerge from the frost-tipped brush line before quickly retreating. Usually, the family of coyotes greeted him the moment he walked outside, but today they seemed skittish. _Foreshadowing, maybe?_ Oskar thought, but shook his head. _Or maybe they’re just scared of the motorcycle, you idiot._ The morning cold should have sent chills down Oskar’s spine as he drove into town, but his anxiety and fear kept him plenty warm. He tried to convince himself it was just a usual trip to the bar, grab a few drinks and meet some women, and not a clandestine meeting of magical beings that are being hunted by the government. To put himself at ease, Oskar tried to find humor in the situation. He imagined the gathering as almost an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, all of the Emergents shifting awkwardly in their chairs as they confessed their secrets. _Hi, my name’s Oskar, and I’m an Emergent. I woke up this morning and three bears were staring at me through my window._ He used this to block out what very well might actually happen; a platoon of armed soldiers barge through the door and haul him away to be experimented on like an animal. _Funny how history repeats itself so quickly._ Oskar’s grandparents, having lived in Nazi Germany, told him of the horrors that the government committed against its own people. Jews deemed “non-human”, stripped of their basic rights. Their own neighbors dragged onto the streets and beaten. Many were rounded up in the train yards and sent to die in work camps. His grandparents always reminded him of these atrocities so he would never forget, and, God forbid, so he would recognize and help stop genocide. _No, its funny how quickly people forget._ In what felt like mere minutes, Oskar arrived at the bar, The Water of Life. The streets were fairly silent, most of Haye busy at work. A few cars were parked in front of the bar, but it was practically empty. Oskar rode around the area in search of anything suspicious, though he wasn’t sure what suspicious was. He pictured men in black suits idling around with their hands occasionally touching their ear and talking, but was sure the government was much more competent than shown in Hollywood films. Satisfied with his search, Oskar rode his bike into the alley behind The Water of Life, leaving his helmet with the motorcycle. If he had to make a quick escape, Oskar figured he could dart to the back and ride off into the sunset. That was the plan, anyway. _If it looks like a trap, feels like a trap, and smells like a trap, you don’t have to walk through the door to know it’s a trap._ He wasn’t entirely sure why he stood in front of the bar doors. Oskar didn’t need friends. He had plenty back home, and even a few in town. Oskar didn’t believe there was strength in numbers, certainly in this situation; with his limited hunting experience, he knew that a pack was always easier to hunt than a single animal. A pack left more tracks, were easier to spot, and traveled much slower. Still, his curiosity had gotten the best of him though. When he was checking out a book on local wildlife at the local bookstore, the book keeper promptly pulled him to the custodial room. Oskar thought he was about to fulfill some unwanted fantasy of his involving a librarian gone wild until she said she knew he was an Emergent like her. The young girl, Emelina, explained she was organizing a meeting of Emergents at The Water of Life, and he was to come. It was the prospect of finding answers that brought him here really, and though he would deny it, maybe a way to fight back. Against his better instinct, Oskar pushed his way through the doors and into the bar. He’d been there on several occasions with his brother, and was fairly acquainted with the staff and patrons. The bar itself was, in Oskar’s opinion, very American. It looked like a puzzle, but with pieces from eight different sets. It seemed to embody what he thought of the country; hard-working hardy people coming from all over the world, bringing their own ideals and ways of life with them. It was a far cry from the uniform nature of beer halls in Germany, but they shared a similar sense of place. Inside, he only recognized two people, Emelina and the bartender, Brian. The journalist took a seat at the bar near Emelina, whose eyes were concealed by dark sunglasses. _Hung over and already at the bar? Impressive._ After attending to the other customers, Brian made his way towards Oskar. “**Good morning Brian. Shit, it is morning, isn’t it? I’ll take an Irish coffee in that case**,” he said with a forced grin. Although his German accent was quite thick, it was still easy to understand. He glanced over at Emelina occasionally, wondering how this meeting would occur with Brian present.

**Name:** Oskar Hartmann **Age: **28 **Gender:** Male **Physical Description:** Oskar stands at 6’3 and weighs 190 pounds, with broad shoulders and long arms. Little fat is present on his frame, mostly sinewy muscle mass, though Oskar is far from a body builder’s physique. He earned his build through purely functional tasks, like swimming, running, and climbing, so he possesses no bulging forearms or beefy thighs. Oskar’s hands and feet are both extremely callused from years of gripping coarse rock. His skin, perhaps a little weather-beaten, is nicked with a scar or two here and there, but none very large. Oskar’s lean body type is reflected in his facial structure. His head is long and narrow, with a sharp jawline and defined cheekbones, though these features are slightly distorted by a stubbly beard that he maintains. Two scars mar Oskar’s left cheek; one mirrors the shape of his lower eyelid in a wide arc about an inch below his eye, and his second is half an inch below the other, extending two inches down before tapering off. Neither are very deep or ugly, but they are certainly unique. His chestnut-colored hair is cut in a long fade, swept upwards and to the side. Oskar’s hair does a good job of concealing the antlers that persistently grow from his head. The antlers are the same color and texture as bone, though much thicker and stronger than any in the human body save for the femur. When they grow, the antlers begin as a single spike, but gradually branch out into numerous points. Unlike deer or elk, Oskar’s antlers don’t have a velvet coating in early stages, and they grow quite rapidly. He cuts them down to the pedicle every morning, a fairly painless procure, to keep them hidden beneath his hair. **Mundane Skills:** -Graduated from the University of Munich with a major in journalism and minor in photography -Avid hiker, mountain climber, swimmer, and rock climber -Overall good physical condition -Knowledgeable of basic survival skills (ex. Finding/making shelter, starting fires, foraging, navigational techniques) ** Supernatural:** Oskar has always felt a special connection to wildlife growing up in German’s countryside. After the reemergence of magic, this relationship took a strange turn. At first, it was barely noticeable. On his regular hiking trips, animals on the side of the trail seemed to linger a few seconds longer. Crickets and songbirds didn’t stop chirping as he walked right next to them. These irregularities, Oskar barely noticed. The connection slowly increased, although it was still hard to tell one was even present. When in nature, animals were more docile towards him, allowing themselves to be photographed before wandering off. Animals also appeared in higher frequency to Oskar while he wandered the woods, as they no longer actively avoided him. While Oskar found this strange, he figured that after spending so much time in nature, he was very relaxed when among animals, and the creatures could almost sense that he meant no harm. Then wildlife began approaching _him_. The curious creatures, from ferocious carnivores to skittish herbivores, would slowly walk up to him, even allowing Oskar to touch them. He knew that, while it was rare, some animals who had never seen humans before didn’t see them as a threat, and therefore had no fear of them. However, these creatures had certainly seen man in the past. This was the first red flag for Oskar. Soon after, animals started actively following him. Both predator and prey could often be found following his footsteps in the wild, with wolves peacefully trotting alongside deer. When he went inside, a small flock of birds sitting on the telephone wires would often greet him once he walked outside. Some days when waking up, he could see a grey wolf from his window, almost as if the animal was guarding him while he slept. At this point, Oskar knew something was wrong, but he didn’t know how serious it was until two small bumps formed on his head. These bumps grew at a rapid speed, becoming full-fledged antlers in a matter of days. During this period, his bond to nature seemed the stronger, but Oskar quickly cut the antlers off when returning to civilization. **Character History:** The Hartmann family can trace its origins back to the very first tribes that occupied modern-day Germany. His grandparents were both children during WWII, but saw little of the fighting that took place since they lived in a small town nestled beneath the Alps. The impact of the war, however, was quite harsh on them, and they grew up poor. Oskar’s grandparents worked hard to make sure their children, including Oskar’s mother and father, could attend school. His parents both lived in the same little town they grew up in, fell in love, an opened a lumber company together. Then, Oskar’s older brother, Dierter, was born, and Oskar followed five years after. Oskar’s youth was largely shaped by his grandparents, a kind, working-class couple who acted as a second set of parents for him. His grandmother, in particular, had a large impact on his life. The elder was always eager to tell her grandson old folktales, from Washington Irving to the Brothers Grimm, giving Oskar quite the knack for story-telling. She also told him of the Hartmann family history, some fact, with plenty of fiction to grab the attention of a young boy. Oskar’s grandmother told him stories of his ancestors living in Germany’s Black Forest, living in harmony with the nature around them and protecting the beasts of the woods from invaders. These tales stuck with Oskar, and he spent many hours playing in the forests with his older brother, making legends of their own. Oskar’s teenage years were spent in a very similar fashion to his childhood. He spent a large amount of time outdoors hiking, rock climbing, and swimming to the point that his parents joked he was a feral child. When not running around like a wild man, Oskar was usually engulfed in a novel or newspaper, though he still enjoyed the occasional tall tale. Unsurprisingly, he decided to pursue a career in journalism, where he could enjoy both of his passions; writing and traveling. Following his brother, Oskar attended the University of Munich and graduated with a major in journalism and a minor in photography. Dierter, having met and fallen in love with an American girl at school, moved back with the woman and shortly after married her. Oskar took the complete opposite path, working as a freelance journalist and traveling the globe. His stories were never anything groundbreaking, generally restricted to cultural studies and wildlife examinations, but he managed to etch out a living and forge a decent reputation for himself. Oskar travelled extensively in South America, Africa, and South Asia, greatly maturing in this period. Oskar hardly noticed the Emergence at first, his powers being so mundane they could be passed off as nothing. Animals were much friendlier to him, but that was about it. His brother contacted him and told Oskar of a family of albino white-tailed deer in the White Mountains near his home, suggesting it could make for an interesting story. Oskar agreed, seeing it as a chance to visit Dierter, and flew to New Hampshire. He tracked the family of deer for a week before finally finding them. During this period, a pair of antlers grew from his head, and when he returned home, Oskar promptly cut them off. Both he and his brother were reminded of the stories their grandmother told of their ancestors, the forest guardians, but knew his strange abilities were caused by the Emergence. Oskar desperately wanted to return to Germany, but his brother warned him that the government was actively hunting Emergents, and he would be rooted out in the airport and taken away. Dierter allowed Oskar to stay with him and his wife until it was safe. **Psychological Profile: **The Emergence has Oskar rather scared, not just because of his powers, but the government’s reaction to the event. It is startlingly similar to his grandparent’s stories of their Jewish neighbors being rounded up like cattle and sent to the work camps. Although the US government says that no harm will become of them, Oskar has a feeling that the captured Emergents are subjected to either death or experimentation. He hasn’t heard word of any other government’s reaction, but only prays that he might be able to seek refuge in Germany. Oskar’s abilities aren’t overly obvious, so he hopes he can conceal them for as long as possible. Out of all the abilities that Oskar heard about on the TV, like inhuman strength and energy manipulation, he is quite pleased with his ability, although he would rather have none if possible. His power helps immensely with his work, as Oskar is now able to get shots of nature no photographer would ever dream of. He used to occasionally hunt wild game with his father and brother, but stopped after the Emergence, as the animals would walk up to him with absolute trust. Oskar eats much less meat than he used to as well. For a man who spends most of his time alone, Oskar is a surprisingly social guy. He enjoys going out on the weekends, spending time with his friends, and meeting new people. What makes him almost introverted is that he doesn’t crave human interaction like most do; Oskar could spend a year isolated from the rest of the world just as easily as he could live in a large city, surrounded by people. In general, he is a laid-back individual who is very easy to talk to. He has a good heart, always trying to do right by the world, and this trait has caused him significant stress in recent days. As a journalist, Oskar knows he could bring the story of the Emergents to the world, exposing their strife, but this would undoubtedly result in his capture by the government. Besides, he is accustomed to writing stories about rare animals, adventures, and unique locations, not the oppression of an entire people. **Possessions:** 1970 BMW R75/5 motorcycle Assorted camping, climbing, and photography equipment Savage model 110 hunting rifle **Occupation:** Freelance journalist/photographer **Relationships: **Max - His three year old Leonberger, Oskar takes his faithful companion with him everywhere. He was given to Oskar by an Austrian trapper he wrote a story on; the man was so entertained by Oskar’s company that he gave him one of his pups that he bred. Max is a very loyal dog, but not overly aggressive. He’s quite large, although considered average in Leonberger standards, weighing 145 pounds and 30 inches tall at his withers. Dierter Hartmann – Oskar’s brother and friend, the two have never grown apart despite the distance between them. Although Dierter is much more serious than his brother, when Oskar is around the two are extremely playful. Oskar is currently living with his brother until it is safe to return home. Amanda Hartmann – His brother’s wife, almost as stern as her husband. She is pregnant, and already has a mother’s overprotective nature, particularly to Oskar. Albert and Clara Hartmann – Oskar’s parents in Germany. He is close to both of them, but his work doesn’t allow him to visit much, so he is usually restricted to calling or skyping them. Although they both have blue-collar jobs at the family’s lumber yard, they are glad that both of their sons are better off than they are, just as they are better off than their own parents. Irma Hartmann – Oskar’s only living grandparent. She is the biggest influence in Oskar’s life, embedding in him an interest in nature and story-telling. He talks to her almost every day on the phone, telling her of his adventures and exploits. Irma has a deep wanderlust, but having grown up in post-war Germany, she never had a chance to travel until she was old, so she lives vicariously through her grandsons.

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