sly13

Just Another Hero

mostly done just gonna touch some things up.

Hasaki Todoroki

_{𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐠𝐨}

Scorch

_{𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧}

Paige

_{𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤}

Emitter -Cleansing flame- A true son and heir of the Todoroki family, Hasaki’s quirk allows him to conjure and control fire.

Moves
1. Jet Burn — Hasaki increases the temperature of his body to the point of causing flames to ignite around them causing his close combat to become a deadly game of dodging or becoming ash.
2. Fireball — similar to the Jet Burn technique as listen before accepting this form focuses the fire into a condensed shape allowing it to be thrown or shot away from the user
3. Fire God Spear — a more precise form of the fireball technique in which the user conjures their flames in the form of a spear to be thrown.
4: Hell Spider — a more complex move in which the user creates small extremely hot streams of fire that spread around like a spiderweb entrapping its victimless they are severely injured attempting to escape.

Of course, as with any powerful quirk, there is always a downside. For Hasaki this comes in two main forms. First is the problem of controlling his emotions. As Hasaki grows angrier and loses focus the flames around him begin to get out of control as his powers are allowed to run wild. There is also the problem of overexertion that plagues all Todoroki members. If Hasaki overdoes it when it comes to using his quirk he runs the risk of raising his core temperature above even the elevated level that he can withstand.

_{𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧}

Hasaki by nature is a very prideful individual that borders on arrogance more often than not. This combined with his birth into one of the most famed clans in Japan and his natural-born talent gives his arrogance weight and validity, often a bad combination. This arrogance not only shows in Hasaki's actions and general attitude often being aloof and above everyone else but it also leaks into his combat. Often viewing fights as just games and only taking a fight seriously if his opponent 'interests him’ as he puts it.

_{𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝}

Being born into the Todoroki family as Hasaki was means two main things. First, you were born with what most people figured was a silver spoon in your mouth, and second, you were destined to be a great hero. Both of these statements were true for the most part. The Todoroki family of quirks were quite strong and made for some fearsome opponents given the proper training. And the fact that they were situated as one of the most powerful and wealthy clans did come with its perks and a rather easy life as far as money was concerned. However, being in the clan also meant that excellence was expected from you as soon as your quirk showed itself. Not your best, Excellence, after all, your best wasn't good enough if it didn't mean you were number one. This was the motto of the clan and a motto Hasaki took to heart and used to shape much of who he is.

Just Another Hero

cool thanks. Ill start working on some ideas. are you guys doing a discord by chance?

Just Another Hero

this seems like a super cool idea. just started watching the show myself and came across this RP thanks to a friend. would my current lack of knowledge be a problem or anything?

The Elder Scrolls: Stormcrown Interregnum

Cainneach Afrant

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Cainneach Afrant

____________________________________________________ Character Information Name -Cainneach Afrant Gender - Male Race - Breton Age -25 , born 13th of Evening Star, Class - Thief Birth Sign - The Thief ____________________________________________________ Skills and Attributes Major: Agility Minor: Luck Expert: Sneak, Lock Picking Adept: Speech, Pickpocketing, Apprentice: One handed, ____________________________________________________ Character Equipment Weapons Daggers- Cainneach’s preferred weapon when he must fight. He keeps several hidden around his uniform all within reach at a moment's notice. Armour Set of leather armor with the symbol of the thieves guild sueded on the inside of the hood. Miscellaneous Lockpicks Waterskin Deck of cards Rations for a few days ____________________________________________________

A P P E A R A N C E Cainneach at first glance doesn't look much different from his fellow Breton male, save the large scar down the left side of his face. He stands at an average height, somewhere between 5’8 and 5’10. Along with the large scar under his eye, Cainneach’s face also sports a short well kept beard of lighter brown hair that hides a small portion of the skin on his face. Atop his head rests a messy mop of dark brown hair that while taken care of, rarely seems to always fall into its place perfectly. Unlike that of a warrior, Cainneach holds a build that holds little in the realm of strength and brute force. Rather he is built for dexterity and speed allowing him to easily maneuver through tight places and balance on precarious positions. Years of sneaking about and remaining undetected have resulted in not only this physical build but also in the way he walks. Not a foot is placed without his thought and consideration less he gives up his element of surprise on others. As for his clothing Cainneach stays in his armor most of the time, rarely taking it off. In the few times he does sport more common clothes he leans more towards simple clothes so as to not draw attention to himself. These clothes also often have some variant of green as either the main color or an accent. P E R S O N A L I T Y Unlike many that follow in Cainneachs profession, he himself is not a greedy man who desires to bathe in mounds of gold, though that would be nice. Rather Cainneach sees stealing as simply a way to support himself through the adventure called life. To him being a thief is no different from another job or profession that a person could pursue. If someone wants something done but doesn't have the skills to do it they get a professional to do it for them. Just as an adventurer orders a sword from a blacksmith or a caravan hires mercenaries, Cainneach is hired to ‘retrieve’ items for a new owner. At a deeper level this also explains Cainneachs view of the world and the people that call it home. That being that people will always do what is best for them and those around them when the time comes. This isn't a cynical view of the world or a belief that everyone is evil simply that people always do what they think is best and rationalize to themselves. Just a mercenary rationalizes killing a bandit because he was hired to protect a merchant. Though most don't share this unique view of the world leaving Cainneach rather at odds with most people comes in contact with, at least those that know of his profession. However, to those that are unprivay to his chosen career path, Cainneach is quite a warm and charming man who is quick to join in on the conversation or down a drink with a friend. After all, what is the point of working in life? You never live to enjoy it all.

_{H I S T O R Y}

Cainneach was born the only son to his two Bretons parents in the great city of Daggerfall. His mother was a simple woman who worked a small shop for most of her life, at least for as long as Cainneach could remember her. His father however had a far different life. His father was one of the higher-ranking members of the thieves guild that was based within the city's walls, which was where Cainneach spent much of his youth.

Even at an early age, Cainneach showed great promise as a future member of the guild. Like a sponge, he absorbed everything not only his father taught him but also the other members as well. They taught him everything he would need to know from how to slip past a guard on duty, to picking the pocket of a person of interest and his favored skill lockpicking. And so Cainneach spent many of his days learning and practicing with the other guild members all of these skills, quickly surpassing even some of the actual members of the guild. This talent alone however did not mean he was a member as was his dream, that came only to those who were invited to take a test.

Finally, though the day came around when he was finally old enough to try and prove his worth for the guild head. It was a simple enough mission, classic infiltrate, and steal some important item locked in a box in some old noble's house. Even from the start however Cainneach could feel something off, it was like the gnawing feeling in your stomach as if your body knows something bad was going to happen. But regardless he had a mission to complete and he was determined to finish it whatever the cost. With the moon high in the sky Cainneach slipped through the shadows approaching ever so closer to the target house. He saw the top window had been left open to allow for the evening breeze to blow out the hot air, a mistake that would cost the man a very expensive ring and would land Cainnneach his spot in the guild. But still, there was that lingering feeling deep in his gut that he couldn't explain.

Regardless of that feeling, he had a job to do so like a cat he made his up and threw the window directly into the old man's room. Slowly moving with only the moonlight to guide him he could see the box in question resting atop a large desk with a random assortment of papers. Just as the lock was clicked open he felt a sharp point in his back, stopping him dead in his tracks. His mind began racing at how he was going to get out of this situation and how he could have awoken the old man. He had not made a sound and the lock wasn't that loud. But as his mind continued to race as the old man began to speak some nonsense about knowing he could trust the elves. But as he continued to rattle on suddenly the voice stopped as the knife hit the ground followed shortly after by a thud. Turing slowly trying his best not to pose a threat to who or whatever else was in the room he saw the old man now lifeless on the floor bleeding from a large cut across his throat. However more pressing was the women that now stood in front of him wearing all black armor which Cainneach immediately recognized as the mark of the assassins guild that also operated within the cities walls.

He had heard about them only in passing between the other guildmates and his father. The little he did know was that they, as the name implied, specialized in killing targets, often political enemies, though feud between commoners could also be a cause, and that their two guilds were not on the best of terms. The exact reason was lost to him though he thought he had heard something about contracts getting stepped on by one side or the other.

Lucky for him however this particular member seemed to not care about the feud if there really was one, instead choosing to look him intently in the eyes before slipping away and exiting through a window on the far side of the room. Thanking the nine for his luck Cainneach quickly grabbed the ring and left to return to the guild where he recounted the mission with the other members who all celebrated his acceptance into the guild proper.

The next few years seemed to fly by as he began to make a name for himself within the guild as a dependable member. He seemed to be the spitting image of his father, both of which seemed capable of any job no matter the circumstances. This fame and streak of success however did not last forever and soon the guild went through rough times. Jobs began to get harder to complete, members were getting caught even on the easiest of missions. And as with anything when times become rough people begin to turn on one another. Lines were quickly drawn in the sand between the guild members as calls for new leadership began to be called.

Cainneach did his best to keep his head low and just work on his craft but sadly one can only avoid the fight so long. By that point, the guild had shrunk to a near unrecognizable size with members leaving or not being so lucky as to be able to retire from the guild in time. Cainneachs father was one such member that was too late on his departure. The day his father was found dead in the guild's base was the last day Cainneach was a member of the guild. What became of the guild he doesn't know. Though he imagined that it either destroyed itself or was reduced to a joke of its former self. After the death of his father and the impending fall of the guild Cainneach fled the city both to find better work and of fear that he would be next on the hit list.

His journeys eventually lead him to Cyrodiil, the center of the ever-crumbling empire, the perfect place for a man of his talents. The crumbling empire full of backstabbing nobles all looking for the slightest advantage over their opponent was the perfect breeding ground for thieves and the like. Unfortunately, however, by the time he reached the empire he had burned through the small amount of gold he could scrape together before fleeing Daggerfall leaving him rather broke and desperate which were never the mindset to be in when you accept a job.

Still though that was easy to say when you had gold in your pocket and a place to sleep every night. And so against his better judgment and gut feeling Cainneach accepted the job from a noble within the region though his importance and power were unknown to him at the time. Cainneach would later be proven to be right about not accepting the job once he was backstabbed by the very man who employed him. The old weasel saw fit to kill two birds with one stone but using Cainneachs services. One of which was getting the document Cainneach was sent to grab and the next was offering the thief to the self-proclaimed ruler of the region.

So there Cainneach sat beaten, bruised, and shackled in the back of the cart head to the nine knew where. Cainneach however never gave up as he examined the cart and his current situation always looking for even the slightest slip from one of the guards that would give him the ticket to escape. Lucky for him they had not checked him very thoroughly when they arrested him, allowing him to sneak in a lockpick with him that would easily pop the locking mechanism within the iron shackles. That was if and only if he had the time to work on the lock with one of the guards seeing and stopping him.

After about 3 days on the road, Cainneach found his chance when the caravan became under attack by what he assumed would have been bandits. Mixed with the confusion and chaos of the sudden attack Cainneach made quick work of the old shackles that held him prisoner. Soon enough the shackles hit the floor as he leaped from the cart in a flash as he went for his personal belongings in the main cart. As he made his way to the cart he quickly grabbed his belongings with the hopes of leaving before he was caught by either the guards or the bandits, not wishing to become a prisoner yet again. As soon as his last dagger slipped into its place however he felt the breathing of a large figure behind that given the size of the shadow cast seemed to dwarf him. As it had turned out the ‘bandits’ that attacked were in fact the rebel fighters that Cainneach had heard of when he first came to the region.

After some talking and discussion about his skills and how he ended up the poisons, he was currently in, along with his newfound disdain for the nobles of the region Cainneach agreed to join the bunch in their fight for freedom. This is where Cainneach can currently be found. Though not entirely trusted by everyone at the camp, Cainneach serves as an effective infiltrator and information gatherer for the group and works to help pay the debt he owes in their assistance in his escape.

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The Elder Scrolls: Stormcrown Interregnum

this seems like something I could possibly be into.

Deadlands: Tales o' the Weird West

Currently a Work in progress

James Kelly

"You just gotta know how to stack the deck."

Name: James Kelly

Aliases (if any):

Allegiance (if any):

Occupation: Gambler, smooth talker, Former Railroad worker.

Physical Attributes:
Sex/Gender: Male
Race/Ethnicity: Irish decent
Age: 28
Build: A lean athletic build
Distinguishing Features: Full beard with crystal blue eyes.

Mental Attributes:
Positive Trait*
Smooth talker- Though his mouth and cocky attitude has gotten him into his fair share of trouble, James is known for being able to get out of trouble just as fast as he can.

Negative Trait (choose at least three of each)
Cocky- To most James can come off as a cocky asshole. This is completely true in most cases. Thinking your possibly the greatest thing to step foot in the west can get a man into trouble.
Gambler- In more than just games James is more than willing to risk it all if there is even the slightest chance of success.


Education (if any): Very minor formal education. Most of what he has learned he learned on
the road or on the run.

Likes:
Gambleing- every since James was a young boy he grew up around gamiling in one form or another
Cards- Not just for his magic but also just by themselves James finds the simple playing card as a tool with which one knows how to use it.

Dislikes:

Notes:
Important Life Moments:
Special/Supernatural Abilities (if any): Huckster
Supporting Characters (if any):
Signature Weapons/Items:
Playing cards- Obviously his favored option if he can get away with it and not get hung for being one of those witches.
2x custom Colt .45 revolvers- always found on his hip, James makes sure to keep them pristine and ready for a fight should they need to be drawn.

Deadlands: Tales o' the Weird West

ill start working on a character

Deadlands: Tales o' the Weird West

this seems cool. Always a fan of Westerns

Tales from the Spider-Verse: Spidroin

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September 7th

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The sounds of metal meeting ice filled the empty arena as Arthur skated back and forth across the rink guiding the puck as he went. It wasn't uncommon to see him like this. It was quite often that he would be practicing when others slept, and he was usually the first one to practice anyway. But today was different, far different than your average day. Not just because he seemed to be stronger and faster than before but because he had just survived some sort of a bombing and was up and better in a matter of days. Just 5 days ago Arthur was laying in a hospital bed drifting between unconsciousness and pure pain. And today he felt not just healthy but better than before the attack. Arthur was always an athletic kid but this felt like weights had been taken off his body just before a game like his lungs were just full of air. His senses felt more in tune as well, all around he felt amazing. Which is probably why he was so eager to get back to training even if his team had canceled practice until things settled down a bit. The whole rink was even supposed to be closed off to everyone, especially him, But it always pays to be friends with the janitor of the building.

Arthurs mind then drifted to that day and what had happened. It was like any other day he supposed. The sun was out on a rather unsuspectingly beautiful day leaving a great run ahead of him before he had classes that day. Well, that was how the day was supposed to go until an explosion ruined that plan. One minute Arthur was running around the campus as many of the athletes did when there was a sudden rumble across the ground. The next thing Arthur knew he went from running to being flat on his back seizing from the gas that now surrounded him. The pain in those moments had been almost unbearable for the young man as he laid there writhing in pain. Lucky however it didn't take long for him to get excused from the hospital though which was a positive. It was probably something he should have questioned a bit more than just accepting the fact that the doctors said he was fine now and could leave. But he wasn't exactly complaining about an excuse to leave the hospital early and get back to the ice. This brought him back to his current position standing on center ice having already completed most of his training for the day without breaking a sweat. “That's enough ice work for today. I guess I work on the bag.”

After changing out of his pads and skates Arthur found himself in front of a heavy bag dancing around it as he let loose a few punches in quick combos. Left-right left-left Right. He said in his head as his punches slammed into the bag with more and more force. If he was honest this was some of his favorite work during practice. As his coach had said in the past, Arthur enjoyed fighting a little too much when it came to game time. Though that did have the added effect of giving the team that bit of energy they needed and was always a good show for fans. But as Arthur kept punching he felt a burning sensation in his back that kept heating up. Finally, however, he felt the burning subside as he heard a tearing sound. As his head turned he was met with the truly terrifying sight of a giant spider-like leg stabbed into the bag just above his fist.

“Oh fuck!” he yelled immediately, falling to the floor and trying his best to scoot away from the leg that kept following him back. Finally stopping Arthur looked in the mirror he had stopped just beside. Tilting his head in disbelief Arthur looked in a mix of shock and confusion as there wasn't just one but four legs sticking out of his back. As he moved to get up he was surprised to see the legs stab into the ground and bring him to his feet rather than needing to use his hands. Pausing for a second focusing on not moving a single muscle he noticed the legs did the same. Looking over at the punching bag that was now pouring sand out in a small trickle. Tilting his head slightly Arthur moved in front of the bag raising his hands in a boxing stance and began to envision himself or rather the legs punching for him. Just as his mind would command his arms the legs began to launch forward in the same combo his punches had used earlier. Stepping back for a moment Arthur admired his work of the bag now riddled with holes. Looking between the four legs Arthur let out a small laugh thinking of everything this meant. “Now how do I put you back?”

Relics of the First Age.

this seems like it could be cool.