SonofJET

The Fireflies Settlement

Butchering is hard work, definitely best left to the professionals, Astor thought to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow as he finished cleaning his blades. Though no butcher would touch one of these things with their blades, if they could help it.

It had been tough, but the man had managed to get some usable cuts of meat from the wolves, though it was far less smooth than an elk or a boar might've been. Hell, even pigeons and hares were easier to prepare. The canines were extremely lean, and the only significant cuts came from the shoulders and ribs. Each wolf gave maybe enough to fill four or five bellies (for the amount of work Astor was willing to put into getting to the meat). The rest would make for valuable compost - eventually going to fertilize some farmer's field.

He'd tasked his mother with setting up his marinade about an hour beforehand, when she'd come out to check on him. A mixture of salt, pepper, herbs, and two different whiskies. It needed to be quite potent to (hopefully) deal with the grease and the smell of the meat.

Once he'd cut the smallish slabs of meat into smaller medallions, he placed them into the marinade, told his mother (who was currently working the bar) not to touch it until he reported back, and headed out again - this time bound for the home of the settlement's resident doctor, Michelle.

After a brief walk, during which time he would nod familiarly to his passing neighbors, Astor found himself at Michelle's door. Quickly brushing his hair back over his head, Astor knocked on the door and waited, stepping back down off the step and patiently looking around.

Sticks And Stones [Post-Apoc/High Fantasy Hybrid]

The Five Senses

Nah. Just trying to put words to the pictures in my head. :)

The Five Senses

Name: Álmos Air-Swimmer
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Asexual
Age: 25
Home Nation: Touch
Appearance:

Bio
Raised in an ascetic order, Álmos has been deprived of human touch for most of his adult life, thanks to his extensive training in sensory focus. He knew his parents, for a time, but his abilities made it difficult to focus when they were in his presence.

So, he continued to live in solitude, until he learned to control his senses. By then, however, they had passed away. His training continued, though it now included a stronger focus on reigning in his emotions.

Consequently, Álmos will seem distant to most. However, he is quite capable of emotion and empathy - he simply doesn't allow them to guide his hand or reveal themselves.

Personality
Álmos is a peaceful man, preferring quiet contemplation and diplomacy to violent action. In fact, even his forms of self-defense and attack involve as little contact with aggressors as he can manage.

He finds many people to be quite agreeable, usually based on the quality of their conversations or thoughts, but he is uneasy when it comes to more personal relationships. As an isolated individual, he finds it difficult to consider forming romantic relationships, and his abilities lend to him finding the concept of a physical relationship to be somewhat disgusting.

Quirks
• Álmos doesn't like to bathe too frequently, and when he does, he tries to do so in tepid water that has had soap dissolved in it beforehand.
• Álmos maintains a liquid diet as strictly as circumstances allow.
• Álmos is almost always heavily clothed. He never goes barefoot, if possible, favoring thick-soled, fur-lined boots, gloves, and face coverings. He becomes visibly agitated when his skin is exposed.
• Álmos avoids physically touching other people, unless they require assistance (first aid, help standing up, etc.) and he is the only one nearby. Whenever accidental contact is made, he recoils from the point of contact.

Skills/Magic
• Anatomy Expertise: Having spent quite some time immersed in medical texts at his relatively isolated monastery, Álmos has a near-encyclopedic knowledge of the human body, as well as various methods that might be used to repair (or inflict) damage to it.
• Meditation: Extremely well-versed in meditative techniques, Álmos can find peace in nearly any circumstance - given enough personal space.
• Kinesthesia: Thanks to his highly-developed sense of touch, Álmos is extremely cognizant of his own physicality. He is acutely aware if there is ever anything amiss, his bodily orientation, and so on.
• Touch Magic - Air Current Divination: The highest achievement of his Touch magic, Álmos can detect and respond to disturbances in the air around him. In much the same way as a fly escapes a swatting hand, he can use this ability to avoid injury or attack, find his way in conditions of darkness or limited visibility, and read the movements of those around him. This ability is troubling to Álmos, and is often too much for him to endure for long periods of time. The pressure of air on his skin often causes him discomfort, and submersion in water or other, denser mediums is almost terrifying to him.
• Self-Defense - "The Dance of Dust and Water": Due to his ability to "read" the atmosphere around him, Álmos is capable of using it to his advantage. His primary method of self defense is through dancing, his hands trailing debilitating poisons (either liquid or powder-based). It is a spectacle to watch, and the agents used somehow always find their way to the intended target (typically eyes, noses, or mouths).

Weaknesses
• Weak: Álmos does not go out of his way to exercise. His musculature has developed little since he began to master his abilities.
• Pain-Intolerant: His heightened sense of touch makes any discomfort or pain seem amplified. A good slap is often enough to cause full-body recoil.

Equipment/Items
• Coverings: The attire Álmos typically goes around in. This consists of thick boots, gloves, snug-fitting leggings, a face and neck wrap, a hood, and a long-sleeved tunic and cloak. They are all a light tan color, and his monastic symbol is displayed prominently.
• "Dust and Water": Special blends of paralytics, blinding agents, irritants, and nausea inducing compounds, these powders and fluids are intended for very specific circumstances, and only ever for self-defense or the defense of others. His order is somewhat well-known for this aspect of their conditioning, and he thus tends to get little to no harassment over this from the authorities.

The Five Senses

I'm feeling a bit of brain-blockage with this guy. :P

I'll get up some basics for now - and I'll probably have the fluffier bits of his sheet done either later tonight or tomorrow.

Sticks And Stones [Post-Apoc/High Fantasy Hybrid]

I'm always down for forming more character connections.

Sticks And Stones [Post-Apoc/High Fantasy Hybrid]

Blackwall - The Big Scary Bastard

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Blackwall

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Character Summary

Name: Sullivan Blackwall
Aliases: Sully, Blackwall

Gender: Male
Age: 40

Race/Ethnicty: Caucasian (Irish/French-Canadian)
Place of Origin: Delphian Empire (Former New York State)

Occupation: Enforcement, Messenger, Insurance Salesman

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Character Attributes

Height: 6'4"
Weight: 220

Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Blackwall has a band of scars around his right arm in an intricate, flowing pattern. He has no other markings or piercings (nothing visible, at any rate).
Day To Day Attire: Blackwall tends to dress in a somewhat grungy fashion, often favoring blacks and leathers in his attire. Chains and studs are a staple of his accessories, and he tends to show off his impressive musculature whenever the temperature permits.

Strengths:

• Resilience: Blackwall is extremely tough and durable - able to withstand extreme physical punishment with little sign of distress.
• Strength: Along with his tenacity comes ferocious strength. When he is enraged, he is known to put fist-sized dents and holes in wood, brick, and even metal surfaces.
• Cursebringer: His past associations with citizens of the Triumvirate has left him with a special knack for bringing low his foes in combat. Dark magic radiates from Blackwall and infests nearby enemies, heightening their feelings of pain and weakening body and spirit alike.

Weaknesses:

• Blunt: A man in Blackwall's position tends to last longer the more straightforward and brutal he is. This being the case, he has little interest (let alone skill) in intrigue or verbal maneuvering. He says what he means, means what he says, and this can easily land him in hot water.
• Unmotivated: Wanting for little, Blackwall doesn't have any real sort of aspirations. He has urges, certainly, but nothing really drives him to better himself. Thus far, he has succeeded and grown stronger and more capable as a result, but any sort of physical failure is likely to be quite the blow to his self-image.
• Addict: Sully has a love for strong drink, coarse women, and a number of illicit substances. Most notable, however, is his love of violence. He will often purposefully escalate conflicts to the point of blows, and he begins to get agitated after going a period of time without a decent scuffle.

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Magic

Spells: Less of a spellcaster and more of a source of magical energy, Blackwall is aware of a couple magical effects that he has been imbued with.

• Pain Feeding: Blackwall thrives on the fear and pain he can put into others. Through the magic he has been imbued with, he can bolster his own life force and strength by absorbing the pained and terrified energies of his victims. When he is done with them, they tend to feel drained of all feeling, but the fear quickly returns in his absence.
• Furious Curse: When he craves violence, and focuses his attention on a single target, Blackwall can inflict a curse on them that amplifies the pain, panic, and terror that they feel under the onslaught of his blows. This sometimes feeds into his Pain Feeding effect, driving him into an even greater frenzy.
• Blood of the Pit: The general magical energy that suffuses Blackwall grants him some additional benefits. He can see clearly in dark or dimly lit environments, he is (seemingly) immune to disease, and when he is in a frenzy, he is untouchable by fire. There are also some who say that he can smell fear, though the validity of this claim is unclear.

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Possessions

Items Of Note:

• "The Irons": A pair of tools/weapons that Blackwall carries at all times. One of them ("Hooligan") is a multipurpose tool with a blade and pick at one end, and a claw at the other. The other ("Headache") is a hefty axe.
• The Devil's Own Stogies: A special blend of smokable plants, these cigars are by far the best (and least offensive) way for Blackwall to come down from a frenzy, make friends, and generally maintain his sunny disposition.
• Rebel Leathers: Resembling the raiment of the legendary Gods of Stone and Metal and Hog Riders of antiquity, this black leather attire is resistant to wear and tear, and provides good resistance against the elements.
• Rations: A few days worth of dried meats and fruits, slightly-stale potatoes, and thick loaves of bread.
• "Peace Offering": A fairly large flask kept in a pouch affixed to his belt, Blackwall takes every opportunity to fill this with whatever strong drink he can manage to find.

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History

Born in the Delphian Empire (in what was once New York State), Blackwall grew up in poverty, surrounded by violence, and filled with indignant anger. For as long as he could remember, he hated his father for siring him - for bringing a child into his cesspool of a lifestyle.

So, as soon as he was able, he began down a path that would certainly lead to his own demise. He regularly beat up children his own age for their food or what paltry sums of money they might've been carrying, and built up a reputation for his cruelty. He killed his first man - his own father - at twelve, just so he wouldn't have to share a roof with the man or provide food for the one he blamed for all of his own misery.

While he began to slowly grow in reputation and esteem among the more violent elements of Delphian society, Blackwall only ever considered his own wellbeing. He took up work for one of the larger criminal organizations - breaking fingers and kneecaps for a bit more money, food, and privilege - but never really considered himself a part of their family.

It was only after his tenth year among the syndicate that Blackwall caught wanderlust. He had tired of conditions in the Empire, and wondered if he might have better luck (and payoff) elsewhere. His departure and subsequent wanderings brought him into the territory of the Salyia Triumvirate, and to the attention of some of the unscrupulous wizards who called that territory home.

In exchange for his willing service to their cause (a concept that Blackwall was used to at that point), he was promised comfort and pleasure, as well as the means to ensure his enduring victories and successes. Such an offer was far too appealing for him to pass up, so Blackwall entered service with a small cabal of Salyian wizards.

Another decade passed, and the cabal he served was absorbed into a larger group - one that saw him as unnecessary to their goals. After swearing himself to the Law of No Tongue, and undergoing a Blood Magic ritual to keep himself from betraying the Triumvirate, Blackwall was released from his service and sent on his way.

Now, having wandered and worked his way south, Blackwall does odd jobs for various enterprising organizations. Up-and-coming criminal organizations value him for his willingness to get his hands dirty, his reputation, and his undeniably effective methods. He has yet to give his allegiance to any of these groups, however. They simply don't scare him the way that the Salyian wizards did, and he would never dream of submitting to anyone who didn't either scare the hell out of him, earn his respect, or promise him an ungodly amount of wealth and pleasure.

Sticks And Stones [Post-Apoc/High Fantasy Hybrid]

Blackwall is ready to go!

Sticks And Stones [Post-Apoc/High Fantasy Hybrid]

Working this guy out a bit, just figured I'd throw something up sooner rather than later. :)

The Big Scary Bastard

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Blackwall

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Character Summary

Name: Sullivan Blackwall
Aliases: Sully, Blackwall

Gender: Male
Age: 40

Race/Ethnicty: Caucasian (Irish/French-Canadian)
Place of Origin: Delphian Empire (Former New York State)

Occupation: Enforcement, Messenger, Insurance Salesman

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Character Attributes

Height: 6'4"
Weight: 220

Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Blackwall has a band of scars around his right arm in an intricate, flowing pattern. He has no other markings or piercings (nothing visible, at any rate).
Day To Day Attire: Blackwall tends to dress in a somewhat grungy fashion, often favoring blacks and leathers in his attire. Chains and studs are a staple of his accessories, and he tends to show off his impressive musculature whenever the temperature permits.

Strengths:

• Resilience: Blackwall is extremely tough and durable - able to withstand extreme physical punishment with little sign of distress.
• Strength: Along with his tenacity comes ferocious strength. When he is enraged, he is known to put fist-sized dents and holes in wood, brick, and even metal surfaces.
• Cursebringer: His past associations with citizens of the Triumvirate has left him with a special knack for bringing low his foes in combat. Dark magic radiates from Blackwall and infests nearby enemies, heightening their feelings of pain and weakening body and spirit alike.

Weaknesses:

• Blunt: A man in Blackwall's position tends to last longer the more straightforward and brutal he is. This being the case, he has little interest (let alone skill) in intrigue or verbal maneuvering. He says what he means, means what he says, and this can easily land him in hot water.
• Unmotivated: Wanting for little, Blackwall doesn't have any real sort of aspirations. He has urges, certainly, but nothing really drives him to better himself. Thus far, he has succeeded and grown stronger and more capable as a result, but any sort of physical failure is likely to be quite the blow to his self-image.
• Addict: Sully has a love for strong drink, coarse women, and a number of illicit substances. Most notable, however, is his love of violence. He will often purposefully escalate conflicts to the point of blows, and he begins to get agitated after going a period of time without a decent scuffle.

---

---

Magic

Spells: Less of a spellcaster and more of a source of magical energy, Blackwall is aware of a couple magical effects that he has been imbued with.

• Pain Feeding: Blackwall thrives on the fear and pain he can put into others. Through the magic he has been imbued with, he can bolster his own life force and strength by absorbing the pained and terrified energies of his victims. When he is done with them, they tend to feel drained of all feeling, but the fear quickly returns in his absence.
• Furious Curse: When he craves violence, and focuses his attention on a single target, Blackwall can inflict a curse on them that amplifies the pain, panic, and terror that they feel under the onslaught of his blows. This sometimes feeds into his Pain Feeding effect, driving him into an even greater frenzy.
• Blood of the Pit: The general magical energy that suffuses Blackwall grants him some additional benefits. He can see clearly in dark or dimly lit environments, he is (seemingly) immune to disease, and when he is in a frenzy, he is untouchable by fire. There are also some who say that he can smell fear, though the validity of this claim is unclear.

---

---

Possessions

Items Of Note:

• "The Irons": A pair of tools/weapons that Blackwall carries at all times. One of them ("Hooligan") is a multipurpose tool with a blade and pick at one end, and a claw at the other. The other ("Headache") is a hefty axe.
• The Devil's Own Stogies: A special blend of smokable plants, these cigars are by far the best (and least offensive) way for Blackwall to come down from a frenzy, make friends, and generally maintain his sunny disposition.
• Rebel Leathers: Resembling the raiment of the legendary Gods of Stone and Metal and Hog Riders of antiquity, this black leather attire is resistant to wear and tear, and provides good resistance against the elements.
• Rations: A few days worth of dried meats and fruits, slightly-stale potatoes, and thick loaves of bread.
• "Peace Offering": A fairly large flask kept in a pouch affixed to his belt, Blackwall takes every opportunity to fill this with whatever strong drink he can manage to find.

---

---

History

Born in the Delphian Empire (in what was once New York State), Blackwall grew up in poverty, surrounded by violence, and filled with indignant anger. For as long as he could remember, he hated his father for siring him - for bringing a child into his cesspool of a lifestyle.

So, as soon as he was able, he began down a path that would certainly lead to his own demise. He regularly beat up children his own age for their food or what paltry sums of money they might've been carrying, and built up a reputation for his cruelty. He killed his first man - his own father - at twelve, just so he wouldn't have to share a roof with the man or provide food for the one he blamed for all of his own misery.

While he began to slowly grow in reputation and esteem among the more violent elements of Delphian society, Blackwall only ever considered his own wellbeing. He took up work for one of the larger criminal organizations - breaking fingers and kneecaps for a bit more money, food, and privilege - but never really considered himself a part of their family.

It was only after his tenth year among the syndicate that Blackwall caught wanderlust. He had tired of conditions in the Empire, and wondered if he might have better luck (and payoff) elsewhere. His departure and subsequent wanderings brought him into the territory of the Salyia Triumvirate, and to the attention of some of the unscrupulous wizards who called that territory home.

In exchange for his willing service to their cause (a concept that Blackwall was used to at that point), he was promised comfort and pleasure, as well as the means to ensure his enduring victories and successes. Such an offer was far too appealing for him to pass up, so Blackwall entered service with a small cabal of Salyian wizards.

Another decade passed, and the cabal he served was absorbed into a larger group - one that saw him as unnecessary to their goals. After swearing himself to the Law of No Tongue, and undergoing a Blood Magic ritual to keep himself from betraying the Triumvirate, Blackwall was released from his service and sent on his way.

Now, having wandered and worked his way south, Blackwall does odd jobs for various enterprising organizations. Up-and-coming criminal organizations value him for his willingness to get his hands dirty, his reputation, and his undeniably effective methods. He has yet to give his allegiance to any of these groups, however. They simply don't scare him the way that the Salyian wizards did, and he would never dream of submitting to anyone who didn't either scare the hell out of him, earn his respect, or promise him an ungodly amount of wealth and pleasure.

Alrighty, I think this guy is ready to go. Definitely gave him a bit of a Brütal Legend flavor, and his abilities were slightly influenced by the D&D Fiend Pact Warlock and the Zealot Barbarian.

The Fireflies Settlement

Clean of the morning hunt, Astor sat on the edge of his bed with a thick quilt over his shoulders, fighting the mild shock of his frigid shower as he planned out his day.

First thing’s first; I’ve got to drag those carcasses to the mayor’s office to collect their bounties. After that, I’ll get to work skinning ‘em, then see if I can get started on a marinade strong enough to work with their scent, and if so, get started on that. Maybe talk with someone before I give it a try. If Michelle’s free, maybe she’ll be willing to make sure I don’t keel over right away.

As he consciously went over his to-do list, Astor shrugged off the quilt and walked over to the door, stepped into a clean pair of boots, and grabbed a light jacket from the rack by the door.

Again, Astor found the process of hauling the carcasses to be much less strenuous thanks to the relatively smooth streets and paths that led to the home of the mayoral councilor who’d posted the bounty in the first place. Dealing with the woman was easy enough as well, and she quickly filled out an entry in her ledger that reflected the nature of Astor’s visit. After she had finished with that, she promised that a notice of credit would be drafted in his name, which he could bring to a farmer or a woodsman in exchange for goods (as those two professions were in the most distinct danger of wolf attacks, aside from the hunters themselves).

Thanking the councilor for her time, Astor turned around and dragged the carcasses towards The Damn Pub. Again.

Once he had reached the pub once more, the hunter began to arrange his tools for the task of butchering the wolves. He doubted any reputable butchers within the settlement would willingly risk contaminating their shops, so he had to make due with his own survival kit.

Ropes were used to bind the wolves in spread out areangements on a wooden rack, and he made quick work of gutting them. The smell of their organs was as foul as he’d suspected - the consequence of an entirely carnivorous diet, he’d once read - and he quickly disposed of the viscera in a bucket, where they would be stored and eventually used as more bait.

Skinning was a bit tough. The wolves, despite their size, were fairly bony, and it was hard to find a good pattern with his knife that didn’t inevitably run up against bone and halt his progress.

Nonetheless, Astor persisted. He eventually had a pair of decent pelts laid out next to the carcasses, and he figured a craftsperson would have an easy enough time turning them into useful attire (or, in Lee’s case, a rug).

“Well, now that the easy part’s over... I guess it’s time to see if I can stomach eating some of these greasy cuts.” He said, washing his hands in a basin as he readied his knife yet again.