If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bs
4
likes
8 mos ago
Driving a sandworm through a pre-school...
1
like
1 yr ago
Remember, punishable by fine means legal for a price.
4
likes
3 yrs ago
♪♫♪ Don't climb up the rope. Dont haul up the mast. And if ya see a sailin' ship it might'n be yer last...♪♫♪
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Bio
Tearstone
Summary
Name: Tearstone Aliases: Tearstone Age: 33 Birthday: March 13th Ethnicity: Caucasian Location: Resides in western Oklahoma Gender: Major/Minor: Associates degree in Occupational Studies - Massage Therapy Occupation: Unemployed/Under-employed Cert. Massage Therapist, freelance writer Languages: Fluent in English, Bad English/Profanity. Knowledgeable of Japanese, Spanish, and Latin. Current Bio Theme: None Years Rping: 20 years Preferred Rp Section: Typically casual or advanced. Rp Level: High casual to advanced. Dedication Level: I don't know what yardstick to measure this with. It all depends on my interest, if I'm enjoying the writing and my partners. Biggest Rp Pet Peeve: If you one-line me and use chatspeak where it doesn't belong, I will CUT you. Pay attention to lore and genre conventions. DO NOT fall silent on me. IF you're bored, say so. If something happens, freaking tell me. I want to get to know my partners out of character too. Teach New Rpers Or Coach New GM's: Yes. Very much so. I love teaching and doing what I can to improve people's skills, and challenge their ability. I love fostering growth.
Appearance
Height: 5' 7" Weight: Overweight Build: Ectomorphic, athletic. Built like a tank... or a tall dwarf Eyes: Hazel-gray, but color shift with light and mood. Hair: Chocolate brown, collar length currently. May grow out again. Skin Tone: Light, tan decently in summer, but I live like basement cat. Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: No tats or piercings. Scar, right wrist (1 cun (3 finger widths), medial from hand crease.) Sits across radial bone on anterior, 45° angle, looks self inflicted, but is actually from fending off an attacker in middle school. Burn scar left knee, the size of a quarter. Stuck knee against hot muffler of lawn mower on accident around 2004. Burn scar torso lower right quadrant inferior to navel and one inch lateral, spilled hot-ass ramen on self last winter. Some of the liquid got lodged in waist band of shorts and caused burn. Personal Style:
Sexuality: Kinsey 2 Relationship Status: Semi-open longterm relationship/domestic partnership Personality: INTJ/P, Turbulent quality. Swings to INFJ/P at times. Born a Pisces, much of Tearston's personality has been altered by their experiences, bu thtey still posses a deep emotional reservoir. Highly creative, great with abstract reasoning and special reasoning, Tear spends much time considering many problems. The overall personality has lead to a life of creative and intellectual pursuits. Habits: Hobbies: Reading, writing/RPing, PC gaming especially MMORPG's, graphic design work. Trained in martial arts from the age of 7. Is a firearms and explosives enthusiast. Is enthusiastic about all things militaria, and has a keep interest in law enforcement as well. Music - listening, spinning records and live mixing, writing music and producing in digital audio workspaces such as FL Studio (Fruity Loops). Tear has been a musician since the sixth grade, and is self-taught on a few instruments not learned in school. Singing is another hobby band while somewhat skilled, they are terribly self-conscious about singing for others. Hiking, bushcraft and survival skills. Cooking is a joy and passion, and is considered to be an art form. Fears: Tearstone has arachnaphobia to a moderate degree. Blame watching the movie by the same name when they were little. Fears physical trauma especially surgery. This gives them the heebie-jeebies. They don't care for needles but will endure some poking and prodding. Tearstone fears leaving behind a negative legacy for their loved ones. Dislikes:
Cards On The Table
Rp's Currently Gming: None on RPG Rp's Currently Enjoying: None on RPG. Play by post Tabletop game on FB for Storm King's Thunder though. Past RP's Enjoyed:
Favorite Posts: Stay tuned. Upcoming Works: The Raptor Company (a fantasy novel), Crucible, (a sci-fi novel)
History
What Brings You To Role Player Guild: Roleplay Life Before You Came To Role Player Guild: Tearstone was a member of several play by post, forum RP's and chat RP's as well as in-game RP groups in various MMO's including World of Warcraft, Eve Online, Neverwinter Nights, Champions Online, and so on. Life Since You Came To Role Player Guild: See above, not much has changed. Tearstone has made it through two major site crashes, but is still confident in Mahz.
Extras
Quotes or Sayings: Theme Song: Really? Advice To The World: Stop. Think about what you're doing. Think about the consequences and repercussions. Love each other. Anything Else: - Nothing right now.
Justine sat against the rear of her car. By now fire trucks had been positioned around the place, along with a number of cop cars, and EMS first responders. One such car had pulled up, spilling an older looking gentleman out of it. He was dressed in riot gear, sans the helmet, shield and some of the other things. He hardly cast a glance about before Justine had rushed into his arms for a moment, hugging him tight. "Heyyyy," he said, hugging her back, only to urge her back to the ground, settling her down some. "Sorry," she said apologetically as their surroundings seemed to sink in. This probably wasn't the place for that, since after all, eh was on duty.
One hand waved her off dismissively. "It's fine. I'd expect nothing less," he said, somehow managing to look relieved and worried. His blue-gray hazel eyes, the same ones she'd inherited regarded her intently. "What happened? You look okay? Did you get hurt or anything?"
Justine shook her head as she shifted back a little to lean against her car once more. "Dad, I'm fine. Some guy broke into the apartment. Well it was two, actually. I was in my room, working on an article. I heard a crash in the living room, like the door busted in. I grabbed my gun, and went out. I found this bozo in a sort of respirator mask in a fight with... I dunno. It was like armor, or a robot or something. You know how these weird people have been popping up, doing things around the city? One of those types. I yelled at them to get out. They didn't, they had kept fighting. I had drawn down on them. At that point the guy int he armor seemed to have stopped for the moment, but the mast guy.. he made a move toward me." She paused a moment, reaching up with one hand to cover her mouth with a shaking hand, just briefly. "I shot him. Just like you taught me. Bullet after bullet. I know hit him. I saw several of the bullets just kind of crumple against his flesh and fall off, leaving little welts behind. Didn't seem to do more than sting, if anything." She shook her head. "I-I think I just made him mad, or madder if anything. He kept coming, but the guy in the armor stopped him. The bozo in the mask grabbed onto the guy and started crushing him or something or so I thought." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "I rushed to go get more ammo. I turned to look back , when these weird coffin or feather looking things about yay big," she held up her hands to show him the size, "Swirled around the two of them. And then everything went white. When I woke up.. I was on the other side of my room. The door had slammed shut. The apartment was a wreck. The whole area looked like a bomb had gone off or an artillery strike had hit it. There was a big hole in several floors, the windows.. well. you see." She shook her head, feeling tears well up in her eyes. Of course she was leaving out the part about Racheli for the moment. It was surprising how easy the lie came. It wasn't exactly a full lie, which is what made any lie successful.
Donaled reached out to pull his daughter into another embrace as she began to try to keep it together. He'd opted to just listen, let her tell the story for now. "And you didn't see any bod-" he was cut off as a different siren tone, this one a warbling alert to get attention. It read HAZARDOUS MATERIALS and Gene Co. on the side. "Ohhh wonderful," the SWAT officer said sarcastically. "What are they doing here," Justine groused. Bozo had mentioned filching the mask off of a Gene Co shipment. Surely they wouldn't be along to collect such a thing so quickly, especially with the riots.
Immediately her mind was suspicious. Pushing off from the car, she reached over to stop her father as he turned to head toward the HazMat team that had just arrived on the scene. "Dad," she said, catching his gaze with her eyes, looking up at him. "I already gave my report and all. I don't think there's anything else I can really add right now. I just wanna go crash." Donald peered at his daughter who looked worn out. She wasn't used to this sort of thing, even though he'd prepped her to handle herself. "Alright. Key is still the same. Stay off of the area around Brickle." She flashed him a weary look then nodded, yawning some. "Sure," she promised as she gave him another tight hug. A few steps took her to the door, which she opened, flouncing down into the driver's seat of her car.
A moment later she had the engine turned over and was backing out. The touch of a button rolled down the window on her car, and she could hear the sergeant and her father questioning the Gene Co team. "Gentlemen, what are you and your team doing here? This is a crime scene, and apparently there was a good sized explosion in the building?"
"Sir, we were notified that there was hazardous Gene Co property in the building. Unfortuantely, it may have come in contact with a level five virus that escaped containment in one of our facilities. Until we know, we can't allow anyone in the building to prevent further contamination."
"This is a crime scene," Sergeant Danvers countered. "We can't just let people walk around in there, contaminating all the evidence."
"My people are all in isolation suits," the HazMat team leader was countering behind his rebeather and yellow isolation suit. "We'll preserve it as best we can, Sergeant. We know what we're doing. We know all about the Chain of Custody, and preserving crime scenes. But /if/ this thing gets out, you think the Black Death was bad? You think Ebola is bad? This stuff is a walk in the park. You'll bleed out of every orifice, your insides will fall out through your ass, while your skin blisters and peels. You'll convulse so hard you snap your own spine, but by then it doesn't matter as your bran is melting from the 108 degree fever."
Justine frowned. Was that the same thing Rach had? She resisted the urge to stop to talk to the man. Though suddenly her heart was hammering in her ears. Her father and Sergeant Danvers paled and looked mortified. Both of them turned around and began shouting orders to get everyone out of the building and begin quarantine procedures. By then, she was accelerating away and making a turn onto the street.
With as long as she had been around Rach, she was sure she would be experiencing signs of the same virus. She wasn't though. Maybe she was immune? Perhaps Edgewynd had something to do with that. Best if she wasn't around people right now anyway.
Justine pulled her car to the curb and parked it in front of a ranch style house with an attached two-car garage. It was as familiar as an old pair of shoes that hadn't been worn in a while, and as comfortable and inviting. It was home. The garage was shut of course. It wouldn't have mattered. It's not like she needed a key. Opening the car up, she hauled her basic luggage out, along with her bag, shut the car, locked it, then headed for the door.
Fishing the key she needed, it only took a moment to open the door and slip inside. The kitchen light was on, and sitting at the dining room table to her left was her mother. Two cups of coffee sat on the table and she looked tired while getting to her feet. It was easy to see where Justine got her looks from, in that her mother was as breathtaking as her daughter, both were built around the five foot six mark, with stunning blue-gray eyes, full and pouty lips, and filled-out builds. "Mom," Justine said, her voice breaking a little. "Hi baby," Rebecca said in greeting as she gathered her youngest into her arms. Justine clung to her mother for a moment, taking strength and comfort from that ever-familiar embrace, before slowly sighing and loosening some.
"Sit," Becca directed her daughter firmly, who did as she was told. A mug of steaming nectar of the gods was slid forward, which she quickly snatched up and took an experimental sip. It was doctored up just like she had enjoyed over the years, and made her smile. It was good to be home. In that moment, a stab of longing, of homesickness ripped through her, making tears well up in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, hiding behind another sip of coffee. At the same time, she knew that tone. She was in for it, most likely. "Now, it's late. Your father called and told me you were coming. What happened?"
"Mom, don't you have work in the morning?"
"I do," Rebecca said with a single slow nod, her tone lilting up at the last moment. There were other, more important things to take care of, like a likely rattled twenty-something daughter who was probably more blitzed than she realized. "I've slept about as much as I'm going to for now. And I'm pretty sure you're not ready for bed yet. Spill."
Justine sighed. The story came out slowly at first, but then quicker, easier. she filled her in on the details of what happened, of Racheli... the two supers that broke in and battled it out. She left out her involvement as this alter ego of course.
"And you don't know what happened to your friend," Becca asked.
"I heard that everyone got evacuated. When I was leaving a hazardous materials response team, as well as a bunch of EMS was there. I plan on checking around in a few hours. I shot dad a text to keep an eye out for her when I was on my way over here. If she pops up, he'll let me know," Justine said quietly, frowning. "Maybe that makes me a crappy friend, not going and looking for her directly. I should probably be dead. But I'm not, and if I made it out, I'm sure she did. She's a tough girl, and can handle herself. She probably will pop up shortly."
Becca eyed her daughter, not quite believing it. Years of living with a law enforcement officer, as well as working at a news station had made her a little wary of a story that was too neat. But, then again, Justine was a journalist. It seemed working in law enforcement or journalism or the media in some form was in their blood. "Alright, you're off the hook for now. And I don't think so. I'm pretty sure you were in shock a the time. Hard to have all your ducks in a row at a time like that. Having the presence of mind to gather all your stuff up that you could, and hers... Most people would have just ran. You did okay, sweetheart. I'll poke around too." Both mugs were empty by now. "Reload?"
Justine nodded. "Yes, please," she replied softly, letting her hair fall forward some to hide her face for a few moments. "I don't know what I'm going to do for a place now," she groused. That was one of the big concerns on the list. "And I'm probably going to need money to make a new place happen. You know, people like security deposits and stuff." Lightly drumming her oval nails on the table top for a moment, she accepted the mug her mother brought back. "Thanks. So, while doing the blog and freelancing thing helps. I really need to find something steadier. More stable. You know?"
"Well..." Becca thought for a moment. "You're doing pretty good as a freelancer. I mean really really good. You made like over eighty thousand last year. Most full-time payrolled reporters make an average of around thirty-six grand a year. The higher paid ones make about forty-five." She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head a little. "With that kind of money you could take the year off if you wanted."
"I know mom," she sighed. "I know. Money's not a concern right now, but it will be, I'm sure. Maybe.. I'm just feeling vulnerable right now. I guess that's understandable after having where I live blown up by brawling capes. And one of them mentioned something about Gene Co. I .. " She cut herself off, tapping a nail as she sipped at her coffee. "I should look into that. Really. I'm sure someone will want to know what Gene Co. is doing. But it could be dangerous. They're a powerful umbrella corp."
"I know baby," her mother said. "I'll help if I can. That's one good thing that working for an official media outlet is good for. Research library, archives, and an entire network of contacts, not to mention your own." Justine nodded. "Yeah. I know. That's another reason. And oh yeah, full benefits. I don't have that on my own, twisting in the wind. But... right now I'm my own boss, which is good."
"That is always a bonus. Not many people your age can say that. And not many your age are as successful as you have been. You're twenty-four years old and making as much as I am," she said pride and a small smile.
"Right. Alright," Justine said. "I need to get a shower. I smell like a camp fire. After that I think I'll try to get some sleep." As she finished, she drained the last of her mug. A couple cups of coffee wouldn't be a real problem. She practically lived on the stuff, and with the day she had, Justine was sure she would crash fast. Already she was getting to her feet. Rebecca joined her. "Gimme your clothes and I'll put them in the wash. Doesn't help to job and house hunt, or go hunting a story smelling like a crematorium."
It only took a second to retrieve her luggage and wheel it over to her mother. "My babygirl," Becca said as she regarded her daughter fondly. "I'm proud of you. And I'm happy your home, even if it's only temporary." Justine rolled her eyes a little. "God... Mom, stop." She couldn't keep the embarrassment out of her voice, but there was a small smile there. Justine then murmured, "Love you too." Turning quickly she grabbed her backpack, and headed toward the other side of the house, toward her bedroom. It was on the front side of the house. She drifted past the bathroom, dropped off her bag in her room. Moving quickly she headed for the bathroom and quickly slipped out of her clothes and started up the shower.
Morning would come far too early, even though technically it already was.
Day To Day Attire: Short sleeved tunic, tank half bodice. Either fitted trousers that lace up along outer thighs or a calf or ankle length skirt split up the side high with well made shoes, usually in blues, indigos, and silver or gold trim. When traveling, wears well made traveling clothes that are muted, neutral colors and a full cloak that's reversible. Strengths:
▲ Fast thinking, highly intelligent ▲ In pretty great shape ▲ Draconic Ancestry - Blue Dragons - Gives her several small advantages or edges ▲ Multiple ways of making money ▲ Good at reading and manipulating people ▲ Alcohol tolerance
Weaknesses:
▼ Has a hard time resisting a pretty face ▼ Convinced that she can't be fooled the way she does with others ▼ Tends to like finer things, and is spending money like it's water ▼ Underestimates people at times ▼ Potential alcoholic
Sexuality: Bisexual (Even preference) Relationship Status: Single, currently Personality: Jenphira is a mixture of contrasts, contradictions, or opposites. She wears any number of masks toward the public and switches them as needed. In some ways she exhibits sociopathic behavior. Presenting the faces she needs to get what she wants, possibly muted emotions, and engaging in risky behaviors. This includes being strongly driven towards sex, or emotions such as anger. In some ways this makes her an ideal adventurer. One doesn't stay bored for long, which is a large cause for such patterns.
Of course she would say she just wants to have a little fun. In truth fear and anger are interesting, and are much less muted than other feelings. Part of it stems from a difficult childhood, the death of her mother, and the aftermath of two father figures who were less than wholesome. One was neglectful in his own way. The other was perhaps too 'attentive' though he taught her much of her current skills in trade.
Despite such beginnings and patterns, Jen does take time to donate to charities or charitable causes. She's been on the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. She knows what it's like to scrape for anything and everything she has. In this regard, she tries to give back and alleviate a bit of suffering wherever she goes. One of her biggest charity cases is herself. Having little, but having gotten a taste of better things, she always tries to indulge when she can in some of the pleasures of life, whether it is good clothes, good food, good wine, or other. Of course she is careful about too much of any of it as they all can be personal pitfalls.
She is obsessive about being prepared physically and mentally. To this regard, she makes sure to exercise regularly, and train with her weapons and keep in touch with her power. When not training physically, she puts herself through mental exercises meant to keep her sharp and aware with such frequently she doesn't even realize she's doing them anymore. It's become ingrained.
Habits: Often clinks her tongue piercing against her teeth when bored, thinking, or nervous. Is known to chew her bottom lip when uncertain, nervous, aroused, or possibly when wishing to draw one's attention to them. Hobbies: Collecting gossip, collecting stories, hustling items or wares, stargazing, sunbathing, magic, playing flute Fears: 3 real fears that make your character unhinged Likes:
✔ Sex ✔ Good food and good company ✔ Magic, showing off with it ✔ Dancing & Singing ✔ ✔
Dislikes: ✘ Rudeness or mean people ✘ Bringing up her history ✘ Disrespect to her personal boundaries. (There aren't many) ✘ Her 'father/daddy' ✘ ✘
Motivations/Goals
Skills & Abilities
A listing of skills, such as horseback riding, and natural abilities, such as night vision - this also includes any racial edges
Darkvision: Thanks to your elven blood, you have superior vision in dark and dim conditions. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can't discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.
Fey Ancestry: You have advantage on saving throws against being charmed, and magic can't put you to sleep.
Weapons Training: Jenphira is trained in the use of a number of weapons. These include daggers, darts, slings, staves, and light crossbows. As part of her heritage in homage to elves she was trained in swordplay with short swords and long swords. Archery with short and long bows was also part of her training. Archery also helped sharpen her focus when necessary.
Draconic Origins: Having dragon blood in her lineage, she finds she has some understanding of how to deal with them. (Charisma check, proficiency bonus is doubled if it applies). Some of this heritage is evident in her skin as there are patches of sapphire scales here and there, making her tougher overall, and these can even help deflect attack. It remains to be seen if her magic is enhanced by her heritage.
Arcana:
Intelligence (Arcana) measures your ability to recall lore about spells, magic items, e1dritch symbols, magical traditions, the planes of existence, and the inhabitants of those planes.
The world around this sorceress is steeped in magic, as are many stories. She's seen, heard, read, and experienced much, giving her a mental encyclopedia of knowledge around all things magical and arcane.
Deception:
Charisma determines whether you can convincingly hide the truth, either verbally or through your actions. This deception can encompass everything fram misleading others through ambiguity to telling outright lies. Typical situations include trying to fast-talk a guard, con a merchant, earn money through gambling, pass yourself off in a disguise, dull someone's suspicions with false assurances, or maintain a straight face while telling a blatant lie.
When persuasion doesn't work, enticements and deception are often suitable tools to a young grifter and con artist such as Jenphira.
Performance:
Charisma (Performance) check determines how well you can delight an audience with music, dance, acting, storytelling, or some other form of entertainment.
Jen is a skilled entertainer, mxing music, magic, dance, and story for audiences.
Persuasion:
When you attempt to influence someone or a group of people with tact, social graces, or good nature, the DM might ask you to make a Charisma (Persuasion) check. Typically, you use persuasion when acting in good faith, to foster friendships, make cordial requests, or exhibit proper etiquette. Examples of persuading others include convincing a chamberlain to let your party see the king, negotiating peace between warring tribes, or inspiring a crowd of townsfolk.
Jen is naturally charismatic and persuasive. She has used this over much time to get what she wants and to bring others to see things her way.
Sleight of Hand:
Whenever you attempt an act of legerdemain or manual trickery, such as planting something on someone else or concealing an object on your person, make a Dexterity (Sleight of Hand) check. The DM might also call for a Dexterity (Sleight of Hand) check to determine whether you can lift a coin purse off another person or slip something out of another person's pocket.
Jenphira has spent much time before crowds working with illusions and magic tricks, and even some pickpocketing (for entertainment) giving her a notable ability with such things.
Skill: Description
Magic
A listing of spells, their descriptions - casting times, elements needed to cast, expected damage, any drawbacks to casting
Cantrips
Spell: Light - Instant - None - None - None - Creates bright light equivalent to a torch either in a small object or gives a held object the ability to shed bright light.
Spell: Prestidigitation - Casting Time: Instant - Duration: Variable - Components: None - Damage: None - Drawbacks: None - Creates small magical effects of various types, to illusions to bits of material, or even going so far as to allow the character clean themselves up or apply cosmetics.
Spell: Ray of Frost - A frigid beam of blue-white light streaks toward a creature within range. Make a ranged spell Attack against the target. On a hit, it takes 1d8 cold damage, and its speed is reduced by 10 feet until the start of your next turn. - Verbal, Somatic, 1 action, instant, 60' range - Cold
1st Circle Spells
Spell: Magic Missile - You create three glowing darts of magical force. Each dart hits a creature of your choice that you can see within range. A dart deals 1d4+1 force damage to its target. The darts all strike simultaneously and you can direct them to hit one creature or several. - 3d4+3 damage, 120' range - Magical force
Spell: Shield - An Invisible barrier of magical force appears and protects you. Until the start of your next turn, you have a +5 bonus to AC, including against the triggering Attack, and you take no damage from Magic Missile. - Casting Time: 1 reaction - Range: Self
Witch Bolt: Create a continual lightning arc that extends no more than 30' to a target. Can deal 1d12 damage per round. Concentration up to 10 minutes. No saves. Ranged spell attack.
Spell: Description
Possessions
Possessions Generally On Person: Clothing, coin purse, money, etc
Fine Clothes: Jenphira tends to buy high quality fine clothing, or have it bought for her. These can be well made dresses to simply high quality but more casual attire. When wearing her traveling clothes, these are still of high quality stitching, lightweight, tough material made for the purpose, and are designed to last.
Daggers (2): See Weapons
Arcane Focus - Crystals: See Magical Items
Item: Description
Item: Description
Item: Description
Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items
Dagger: On her belt, worn almost as clothing, is a tool more than weapon.
Dagger: She carries a thin, slender dagger on her person concealed
Light Crossbow: Jen has slung over one shoulder when on the road, a light crossbow with a quiver containing twenty bolts she uses for self defense. This is used to concerve spells, or when spells just aren't worth it, or aren't working for some reason. Or it is not safe to use them.
Staff: A glorified walking stick, she usually has one when on the road
Item: Description
Item: Description
Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items
Item: Description
Item: Description
Item: Description
Item: Description
Item: Description
Item: Description
Animals:
Sapphie: A spunky blue pseudodragon Jen encountered on the way to Horgith Veil, which she saved from a flock of angry ravens chasing the little bugger. Spending a few hours feeding and bonding with the wee one, they parted ways, only for it to turn out that Sapphie was following the new friend she made and that night saved Jen from a group of stirges. Or... well one. Jen killed the other. It seemed that sealed the bond.
Explorer's Pack Contents: What do you carry in you pack when traveling
Spellbook/Grimoire: While Sorcerers don't need to study to cast spells, and learn magic differently, such a practical book is often useful and helps reaffirm her understandings. This also is used to scribe spells, and more, with her skill in Arcana.
Trinket: An ancient arrow of Elvish design - Little is known about this item.
Set of Traveling Clothes: Light weight, high quality, tough materials, comfortable to wear, many pockets. Includes reversible cloak.
Tinderbox: This small container holds flint, fire steel, and tinder (usually dry cloth soaked in light oil) used to kindle a fire. Using it to light a torch - or anything else with abundant, exposed fuel - takes an action. Lighting any other fire takes 1 minute.
Rations: 10 days of rations - Quith Pa - Iron rations, dried fruit mostly
Waterskin: flexible container for water, made of leather, durable.
Rope: 50 feet of hempen rope - attached to outside of pack, useful for climbing and pulling, and tying/binding
Forger's Kit: This small box contains a variety of papers and parchments, pens and inks, seals and sealing wax, gold and silver leaf, and other supplies necessary to create convincing forgeries of physical documents. Proficiency with this kit lets you add your proficiency bonus to any ability checks you make to create a physical forgery of a document.
Disguise Kit: This pouch of cosmetics, hair dye, and small props lets you create disguises that change your physical appearance. Proficiency with this kit lets you add your proficiency bonus to any ability checks you make to create a visual disguise.
Wooden Flute: A simple musical instrument played for entertainment purposes, solo or for an audience
Journal: A leather-bound book designed for one to chronicle one's life events, keep notes, draw or sketch, and more.
Item: Description
Attuned Magical Items: Limit 3
Item: Description & Details
Item: Description & Details
Item: Description & Details
Magical Items (Not attuned):
Arcane Focus - Ball: A Metallic shimmering orb made from various materials to supplement spellcasting and replacing spell components. About the size of a hand ball.
Arcane Focus - Crystals: Set into jewelry at the wrists, ears, throat, or forehead, she has a set of sapphire colored crystals that swirl with an inner light. They are arcane foci and replace or are made of common casting components. They leave her hands free to cast as needed.
Spellbook/Grimoire: A book for recording spells, incantations, and other notations in regards to magic. - See Explorer's Pack contents.
Bag of Holding: A magical container that is bigger on the inside than the outside. It can hold up to five hundred pounds of weight, and 64 feet of cubic feet of material. (4' x 4' x 4') Bag will weigh no more or less than 12 lbs. More details avilable.
Potions: Premade or prepurchased potions - limit 5
Potion of Healing: A bronze serum, contained in a fragile jar etched with holy symbols. This potion restores 2d4+2 hit points.
Potion of Healing: A bronze serum, contained in a fragile jar etched with holy symbols. This potion restores 2d4+2 hit points.
Item: Description
Item: Description
Item: Description
Creation Materials: Anything used to brew potions or for alchemy
Item: Description
Item: Description
Item: Description
Item: Description
Item: Description
Item: Description
History
Parents: Alive/Dead/Known/Relationship With? Birth Order: Last born Siblings: None by blood Childhood: Being the daughter of two cultures, Jenphira never quite fully fit within either. To humans she appears too much like an elf, and was mistaken for being younger than she was, and wasn't taken as seriously, or seen as an equal playmate, and so on. Among Elves, she would often be treated as though she wasn't old enough to know, and was always treated with a cool aloofness. Adulthood: Being a misfit of cultures and generally less socially acceptable and conservative in many regards has pushed Jen into life on the road, going place to place. She has found something of a slightly dysfunctional family with a traveling troupe of entertainers and ruffians of sorts. Special Moments: Things that stick out in you characters mind most often, minimal 2 Current Events: What brings you here? What were you most recently up to? What's a character like you doing in an rp like this?
Relations
⚜ High Ranking * ☯ Neutral * ☮ Friends * ♥ Crush * ⚤ Significant Other * ☠ Enemy
You may work out several predone relations as NPCs you control. Limit one high ranking character, minimal of one sworn enemy - all npcs are limited to base information and items within the Rp. Relations can be worked out between player character before start of Rp if you wish and added to during the Rp
☮ Kriv Noxisair: Male Copper Dragonborn, traveling companion. Considers him a friend, and is taking him under her wing some. May have some romantic entanglements with, but does not consider herself to have any sort of 'relationship' with anyone at this time.
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Extras
Character Quote: It is often better to ask forgiveness, than permission. Theme Song: Still looking There are other themes provided Aura Color: Crackling electric blue. Scent: Dragon's Blood incense, a hint of ozone, something soft, floral, intoxicating Anything Else:
Why did Jenphira become an adventurer? “You say that like I had a choice. This isn’t something I particularly chose, in the beginning. I spent my younger years after I was puleld away from my mother living among strangers. My father thought he was trying to do the right thing, I suppose. Give me an education and a life of sorts. Except the rest of the elves that he spent his time with never really accepted a halfbreed like me. Mixed blood really shouldn’t be a detriment, but they often saw it as such. My weak father kept silent on the matter, until eventually I won over the arguement to return home and be away from a place that scorned me, even as a youth. On the way home, my escort was ambushed by a roving band of brigands. In the weeks and months prior, I’d felt a browing force inside of me. And at this time it seemed to come spilling out. The campfire that we had lit billowed up, doubling in size in response to my fright, and when one of them tried to lay hands on me, they got a nasty shock. You could hear the crack and there was a bright flash from the contact, and he staggered away holding his hand. That night they took me with them, leaving behind my father’s paid guards. Among the rovers I was treated badly, tortured even. That is until Dellin. He fed me, gave me water, and looked after me. He took care of me, and kept the rest at bay. I didn’t know it at first but he was their leader, and he’d claimed me as ‘spoils’. At first I was grateful just to be alive. There were other kids with the group, and I got to join them. I wasn’t looked at in the same light. For a time I got to be a child. But Dellin told me I would have to learn new things. Manipulating people, charming them, and as I began to blossom into a woman, how to use my charms and body to my advantage, my looks. Or rather to Dellin’s advantage. He taught me the art of the con. He was a real bastard. And that was the good side of it. I won’t get into what he did to me personally. My magic showed it’s flares in starts and fits now and again, which only served to isolate me from my peers. They were afraid of this mysterious power that showed up now and again. Dellin started teaching me how to use my ability to read and write to forge documents, papers. Little did he know, he was giving me all the skills to get away from him too. I’d planned my escape for a long time without telling a soul. I’d also practiced more of my magic in secret than he’d guessed. So it was on a night when both moons were dark that I lie with him. For a long time. My best work, seeking to exhaust him. It worked and after he fell into a deep sleep, I roused. It was well after midnight. I dressed, and I fled using some filched dusts that the group kept on hand. One made me invisible, the other untrackable. I got free of the camp. Little did I know, that night… something had taken root. For weeks, even months I ran. Until I fell in with a traveling troupe. I’ve since moved with them, blending in, performing, lending my skills to a much better and more deserving lot though we still live in a gray area of the law. I would settle down, but a moving target is harder to hit. And I don’t want Dellin or his band ever getting scent of my trail again. I cannot rest or sit still for too long.
Who or what is most important to Jenphira? Tayoral, my daughter. My mother Malorai. My friends in the troupe, and maybe Kriv. Remaining free of Dellin’s clutches perhaps is the most important thing.
Who is their worst enemy, and what did they do to Jen? Dellin - He took me from both of my parents, held me hostage, tortured and starved me. I was abused in all the ways you could imagine, beaten and sexually assaulted. He took my choices from me.
What is one place that Jen never wants to visit again?
What would make her the happiest they’ve ever been? To know that she could stop running. To be permanently free of Dellin and not have to fear what might happen to her, or her daughter, or friends. To be able to settle in one spot and raise her daughter, reunite with her mother. Maybe to focus on having a real family. Maybe work as an entertainer, or even just to have a normal life.
All areas not completed or filled in will develop during play
Cape Name Here
Name: Katelynn Hawkes Alias: Their cape name. Yes, I want it twice. Age: 26 Alignment: Hero? Villain? Anti-hero? Other? Loyalty: Unknown/Undecided Appearance: Pictures are fine and dandy, but I want you to be able to describe them in words. Include their costume design here as well. Remember to be realistic. A 14-year-old kid off the street isn't going to be able to make a high-end costume without funding or resources outside what's normally available, and most materials can be tracked.
Sex: Female Ethnicity: Caucasian Age: 26 Height: 5'6" Weight: 130 Build: Built Meas: 38DD,27, 36-37 Specialties: A O Natural Eye Color: Green Natural Hair Color: Brown Blood Type: AB- Allergies: None DOB: 3/6 SSN: 212-75-3496 Nationality: Australian or New Zealander
History:
How has their life gone up until now? Be sure to cover all the major events, including their trigger. Remember that you're a relatively new cape to the scene. You don't have to have triggered just yesterday, but it's only within the last year or so that you've decided to start using your powers. And yes, you can have bought your powers from Cauldron, just remember that it's a tremendous secret you should never attempt to reveal, lest you draw the attention of "The Bogeyman."
Katelynn was born the second child of the Hawkes family. Her father, Steven, and mother Elaina, were well to do relatively. Her father was a consulting engineer making a significant amount of money. Some suspected that he was a tinker, though it was never really confirmed. Mother was an advertiser and worked with numerous businesses and groups across the region. They had moved to Ash City when Eliot, the oldest of the children was only a few years old. There had been the promise of work, and indeed there was as the city was experiencing quite a bit of growth. The move took them from New Zealand to the United States, where a good portion of the Hawkes family resides.
It wasn’t before long that the youngest of the three children they would have would be conceived after the move. It would have been a hectic time, were it not for the fact that the Hawkes family was numerous in its members. There was plenty of support for this small portion of the tribe moving into Ash City. Her uncle and aunt were a point of stability that allowed this to happen. When the time came, Selina was born. Eliot had seemed to resent the attention that the young Katie had been garnering from their parents, but now they seemed to dote on their youngest. In both of the older siblings mind, this was a slight that only continued to grow as they got older. Being the middle child, Kate felt often ignored, compared to the attention that Eliot, the oldest received, or the youngest often had.
Over the years, Kate found herself stuck between the wild, almost rebellious nature of her older brother, while having to watch out for her younger sister, and often taking the blame for both of them, or often being blamed for their actions. During this time, Selina’s scholastic achievements were often praised, and she took it as a sign of being more intelligent. All three of the Hawkes children proved to be of equal intelligence, though Kate’s grades suffered. This was due more to a general dissatisfaction with her home life and the difficulty of her siblings. As she neared middle school, she found herself driven anew as her mind seemed to experience a shift in focus. In only a few short years she began to make up for the ground that had been ‘lost’, or rather ignored. It seemed that as puberty began to set in she become much more competitive and less willing to simply let her siblings roll over her.
Staying with other family members, especially during the summer, taking trips, and hanging with her cousins alleviated much of the pressures, especially as she worked through middle school. Those were happy days for Kate, and during the summer between 8th grade and her freshman year she’d seemed to change much physically. High school would, of course, bring its own set of challenges. Social dynamics shifted, friendships rearranged, and things began to get more complicated with raging hormones and out of control biology.
High school provided a refuge since her brother had left home to join the military, feeling that he would be out from under controlling influences. Obviously, this was not well thought out. Mostly this was to get away from his parental controls, not realizing just how strict military life would be. Of course, Kate knew better. Her brother had never been the most popular in school, so there wasn’t much of a shadow to worry about with his departure. Clean slate. She was also old enough that she wouldn’t be attending the same school as Selina, which separated her from the constant comparisons. With a few family members in ths same school system Kate would be automatically more popular. This helped with joining the girls athletics program, and trying out for Cheer. She, of course, made the team. She also began to take gymnastics and kickboxing, keeping her quite busy.
Being so busy kept her plugged into the social situation of Ash City, and her grades were required to stay sufficient to participate in team and cheer events. By virtue of her martial arts and gymnastics classes they focused on academic excellence as well. Popular, excelling student, and in the best shape of her life, Kate seemed to have it all going for her. Having a strong sense of right and wrong, and disliking bullies, she opted to take courses in law and debate, was exposed to photography and journalism, and of course basic computer literacy and computer sciences. By the time she graduated, she’d made up her mind that she wanted to pursue a career with the PRT. It was semi-prestigious. It would put her near some of the most recognizable capes. It was an opportunity to rub elbows with powerful people, socio-politically as well as literally. The job was also challenging and appealed to the competitive side of her. And it was potentially dangerous at times, appealing to the thrill seeker and partial adrenaline junky that was within. Her skillsets and abilities would lend well to the job.
Unfortunately, her parents didn’t seem to support the decision whole-heartedly. They couldn’t see the correlation between the image or concept they had of their daughter, and what she was seeking to do. They had even gone so far as to question why she thoguth she would even be good enough or would succeed at all. Like a slap in the face, it served only to drive her harder. The very next day she submitted her application. A short time later, she was given the opportunity to train, make it through the program and learn all she could.
Katelynn graduated and became a PRT member. While not the greatest to come through the traiing, she was by no means the worst. The program had been grueling, and many came from military or law enforcement backgrounds, providing stiff competition. However, she adapted and excelled, often going as hard as any of the guys on the teams, if not a bit harder, having to make up for the difference.
Personality
Motivations: What is it that they want? What are they working toward as a larger goal? Feel free to get as creative or as simple as you like. Sexuality: Bisexual
Favorites:
Season: Spring
Color(s): Black, Navy, Gold, Red
Pet: Dogs, Horses
TV Show (Types): SitComs, Dramas, Home Improvement, Documentaries
Movie Types: Fantasy, Animated, Thriller, Action, Comedy, Drama, Other
Book Types: Sci-Fi, Graphic Novels, Humor, Technical, Horror
Music Types: Reggae, Rock, R&B/Soul, Jazz/Swing- Electro-Swing, ElectronicDance Music
Derangement: A side effect of your powers affecting your personality or thought process. Thinking like a different animal, losing your sense of direction, increased aggression, so on and so forth. It's not a required field, but it is encouraged, and does not have to be major.
Parahumanism
Skills:
Hand to Hand: Martial Arts - Kali
Kickboxing
Combat Driving
Athletics & Gymnastics
Photography
Dancing
Running
Military Etiquette
Military Sign
Radio: Basic
Demolitions & Demo Disposal
Tracking
WP Handguns, Rifles, Shotguns, Blunt (Batons, etc), Heavy Military Weapons, PRT Special Weapons
Detect Ambush
Streetwise
Pilot: Automobiles & Motorcycles
Cooking (Basic)
These are main skills but not exhaustive.
Classification: Mover? Shifter? Tinker? Blaster? Mix and match? Details: Get into the details of your power and how it works. The general overview, if you will, goes right here. Limitations: All powers have some sort of limitations built in, no exceptions. And you are not to just put down "Manton Effect" as your only limit, everyone is subjected to that. Equipment: What sort of goodies do you have on you when you're in costume? If you are a Ward, you automatically start with a Protectorate Communication Earpiece and your costume will get to incorporate a holographic computer interfacing tool, courtesy of Decoy.
Assets:
A job - generally 40 hours a week, allowing one to maintain everything below when the next month rolls around. Leaves you unhappy or stressed, doesn’t earn much or takes a great deal of time.
Transportation: New - Sedan; 2 Door - Less than 1 year old and still making monthly payments of $300/mo.
Decent Clothes
Current Residence: 2 bedroom apartment - lived there about 3 years
Good health, money for food.
A cell phone, perhaps not entirely up to date.
Laptop/Desktop computer and an internet connection
Stuff for one not-too expensive hobby (tools, a bike, art materials, camera/darkroom, camping stuff, etc.)
Insurance - covering your ass if another asset gets destroyed/stolen/ruined. Can be literal insurance or just having a replacement on hand, somehow.
Inheritance: House Property: Value is $300,000 but to get the full value will take 10 months. A quick sale will reduce the asking price of the property by 30%.
Life Savings: $30,000
Pocket Money: $3,000 (prepaid debit)
Credit Card: $5,000 limit (unused... mostly)
You worked so hard to get here, a prestigious school. You got the grades, you studied until you thought you'd lose your mind. Then you finally earned admission. You're surrounded by others of your caliber, suddenly a small fish in a very crowded pond, and it starts to eat at you. It starts with stomach cramps. Two teeth crack because you're grinding them so viciously, awake and in your sleep. The study drugs aren't helping, amping you up, making your heart race, but they let you function without sleep. Then you start shitting blood. You're destroying your body in your desperate attempt to make headway. Weeks into this miserable exercise, you stare at your paper - a C-, graded on the bell curve. Something in you snaps and you double down on the drugs, hoping they either give you the fuel to keep going or kill you. As you stare at the screen, seeing you're only writing gibberish, and your stomach starts cramping like a giant has wrapped his hand around your guts and is twisting, you trigger.
It was supposed to be a simple week at a cabin that belonged to your friend's parents. The five of you carpooled, joking around and having a good time the whole way. It was pretty late when you arrived, so you all hit the sack, figuring anything that needed to be taken care of could wait until morning. Bad call. The cabin had gas heating and sometime during the night something broke, flooding the cabin with gas. You wake up unable to breathe, panicking and thrashing in your bed. You're barely conscious when you and two of your friends trigger.
It was supposed to be your night, and you haven't had many nights. Your parents paid for your older siblings to go to school and they didn't have funds left over to pay your way, so you worked your way through. They shared a car through their teens, moved out, and took the car with, while you took the bus. But a work colleague became a boyfriend and then after three years became a fiance. The night of your wedding arrives (paid for by you and the fiance, of course), and lo and behold, your older sister shows up in a white dress. You're scandalized, but you bite your tongue, and you cross your fingers that people will see it as the blatant and gross faux pas that it is. In the midst of your evening, soured by the specter of your sister in her white dress here and there, always in your peripheral vision, you overhear people commenting on her. You edge closer, eavesdropping, in hopes of hearing some gossip at her expense, but all they talk about is how beautiful she is. You saved for this night, your night for two damn years, for this. You trigger.
There's a little bit of forest you used to go to all the time when you were young, and you still go there when you want a break from the dash of city life. Like all things from your childhood, it seems so much smaller now, and safer. Except not anymore - it turns out a gang's hiding in there, and now you're running madly through the woods as they chase after you, firing their guns whenever they catch sight of you. You daren't go out in the open where you're an easy target, but they're closing in on your position... You trigger as one of them breaks through the brush and fires at you.
It started with you going online during a sleepover with your school friends. Anonymous, no face shown, flashing people and running an ongoing auction so that your audience could bid on the things they wanted you and your friends to do. You and your friends split the cash, but the online transaction left a trail, and one of the perverts who were watching sent you an email. They listed your contacts on social media, your mom, your dad, your -school-, and showed you some of the video they'd recorded, where you let a glimpse of your face appear. Do as they say, and they won't send the video out to everyone you know. They tell you if you try to get them arrested, a dead man's switch will ensure the video goes live. They send you a list of instructions - stuff that involves more videos, giving them even more ammo. Your friend's boyfriend gets hit by a car, dying, and the blackmailer goes utterly silent. Faced with a deadline you can't hope to meet, vividly imagining the disappointment and humiliation that will affect every last part of your life, you trigger.
You're at the bar, you're having a good time. Everyone's laughing, looking good, and the place is lively. You take a sip of your drink, nothing seeming amiss. A few minutes later the room starts to spin, your limbs feel weak, everything going blurry. "Whoopsie," a blurry figure says near you. "Looks like my friend here's had too much to drink." That was your first drink of the night! You can't even muster the energy to get up out of your chair, and your "friend" says "I'll make sure they get home safe and sound," waving off the concerns of the other patrons. You've never seen this person in your life, you're sure of it, as they lift your arm up over their shoulders and drag you out of the bar, and a thought works it's way through your murky mind - you've been drugged. No! No! You attempt to struggle, raise a shout, but all you manage to do is trip a bit and moan. You're not getting away under your own power. You think you hear the person carrying you chuckle, and you trigger.
Female Caucasian Age: Mid 20's Height: 5'6" Weight: 130 Build: Built Meas: 38DD,27, 36-37 Specialties: A O Natural Eye Color: Green Natural Hair Color: Brown Blood Type: AB- Allergies: None SSN: 212-75-3496 Nationality: Australian or New Zealander Birth Order: 3rd out of 5? (older brother, older sister, twin sisters (younger) ) DOB: 3/6
Disposition: TBD Personality: TBD
Marital Status: TBD Children: None
Family History (Possibles) 96-00: Mysterious Background II: The character was raised by what appeared to be a loving normal family. However the character has just recently discovered that they were adopted and all traces of your true identity have disappeared or have been covered up by some unknown source.
Family Political Background: Independent Personal Political View: Independent
Adult Background History
PERSONALITY INFO Personal Bias: Bullies (hate 'em) Darkest Fear: Water (deep/open) <Snipped quote>
Name: Milton Brandt Aliases: Thomas Pennington, Sergei Cherpovka Callsign: Ringo/Beetle/BeetleBoy Age: 30 Rank/Title(Dependent on position): Appearance:
Role: Rifleman| Intelligence, Interpreter (backup), Jack of All Trades Nationality: United States Biography: Milton went into the armed services just after graduation. Coming from a dysfunctional family, his father was an abusive drunkard, and his mother was a hypochondriac that left him with some near prescription grade issues. The entry into the military was an effort to get away from home life. As a result of his background he was used to rough-and-tumble situations, taking a beating, and thinking on his feet. It also meant that he didn't miss home much. He worked his way into the Green Berets after plenty of letter writing and petitioning. Once in, he did well, but some of the selection course that year was brutal enough it nearly killed half the class during the survival phases. Milton, or Mills did well enough though and came out pretty hardened on the other side.
Inside the military his training was focused on intelligence gathering, interrogation, and interpretation or linguistics. Using military metrics and language key activation systems, he picked up highly conversational skills in a couple languages and competency in close to half dozen more. With his mind focused on these abilities, he can pick up new languages rapidly and be competent with them, quickly able to sound like a native speaker. Besides being a translator, Milton was trained in a wide variety of skills from basic engineering and construction to electrician skills, surveying advanced land navigation and mapping. He was trained how to survive and thrive in tough environments and teach others to do the same, to whip up rag-tag ratty would be indigenous rebels into skilled gureillas and warfighters.
While on a stint in the Phillipenes he spent some time in the jungles and along side Filipino marines studying Kali/Arnis/Escrima (depending on who you talk to), a local martial art that is less art and is more of a way to kill quickly, efficiently. It is based off of the main directions of attack a person can make, along with the defenses for them. Training is focused on stick and knife techniques before unarmed which uses the same system.
His unit did a turn in Israel helping with cross training with IDF, as well as providing some disaster relief and humanitarian aide. Did not see a lot of action, but took some things away from there in his time.
NID picked him up soon after, refocusing his skills he'd picked up in the military, and adding to them, playing on his charisma and natural desire to match wits against others, along with his patriotism. By age twenty-eight he had heard rumors of a Project Stargate, and when it was discovered that he was researching into it, his superiors had a choice... either make him look like a looney, or they could read him in, and bring him into the program. Being such a useful asset, they decided for the latter.
It was for these reasons that he was chosen to begin to work with the SGC as part of an international SG team. When the Langford began to need crew, he wasn't passed over more than once, as the mission for the ship was to be exploration, not intelligence or combat assignment. It seemed that the military minded naval folks aboard, along with those running security felt that a person that could fall between full military and civilian, could pick up languages fast, adapt to new situations and environments and more would be useful, and could be able to deescalate situations rapidly and glean information faster, process intelligence more quickly than relying on analysts back aboard ship or back at base, or or by relying on allies like the Tok'ra or the Asgard. With having an asset like that on the ground, they could follow up on things much faster, and get to know the locals better, put a friendly face to military forces and so on.
When he was selected for the Langford, Milton decided to take on the challenge. The idea of seeing what was out there agreed with him.
Personality: INTJ - Focused, likes to pit his wits against others, favors social engineering. Brains over brawn, duct tape over guns. Generally nice, decent guy, creative thinker, can be charming. Both mission and team-oriented, and good to strong protective instincts. Critical thinker, strategic, assimilates information quickly. Constantly evaluating and/or analyzing people, things, and situations. May be passive-aggressive at times. Respects intelligence and respect, expects it in those higher than himself in the chain of command. If he does not feel he has respect, or that his leadership does not have the proper intelligence, Milton will have no respect for them. Note, that doesn't mean they have to be of genius level intelligence, but he expects those around him as well as above him to use the brain between their ears, to have some common sense and to use it.
Milton is also known to be an epic smart-ass.
Flaws - (included specifically in its own category since enough fuss was made about it) Bullet wound lower back/upper gluteal region - scar tissue puts pressure on the sciatic nerve on one side, causing everything from mild tingling to full on bouts of paralysis, parasthesia, numbness, and pain. Flares up occasionally either under stress, cold conditions, sometimes when struck, or for seemingly no reason at all.
Disciplinary record - Several infractions have occurred in his history, due to mouthing off to a superior, or for poor interpersonal dealings with others he felt were displaying a lack of good decision making skills. Some would argue that mouthing off to a superior is not the best decision, but Milton has been known to form strong opinions of right/wrong, honor, integrity, and while sometimes passive-aggressive, that passiveness is known to disappear. Some people may be gunning to have him drummed out of the military. Others may see see
Soft spot: Kids, usually in bad situations. Milton is known to have a grudging soft spot for those in need and will usually take some time out to visit with them and help them.
Trivia: Callsign Ringo - Some people have noted that he looks kind of like a younger Ringo from the Beatles, hence the name Beetle or Beetleboy or Ringo
Nickname(s): Danny, DJ Age: 27 Height: 5' 9" Build: Athletic
Arsenal: Slingbow with 15 arrows. Shotgun - w/ military steel ammo box (100 shells) Kimber handgun - Springfield 1911 model .45 cal - 50 rounds.
Equipment - some gear is on person, some is in the duffel bag, some in the knapsack, it looks like a lot, but when distributed across person and a couple storage items, it's not. Two sets of clothes, good boots, running shoes, gloves (leather), sunglasses, baseball cap, Leatherman, binoculars, machete, a few Bic lighters, a firesteel, pocket knife, box cutter, survival/field/bushcraft knife, backup knife, e-tool, hobo stove, vaseballs, duct tape, bank line, tarp, bed roll, couple sets of eating utensils, a few stale power/protein bars, crowbar (for B&E), small tool kit, backpack, knapsack, duffel bag. mirror (old CD), chap stick, small jar of vaseline, storm matches, canteen
Transportation - bicycle w/ small trailer
Bio/Narrative: They say you never really realize what you have until it’s gone. God that’s so damn true, isn’t it? Let me introduce myself, dear reader. My name is Daniel Johnson. I tend to go by Danny or DJ a lot among my friends, when I had them. I figure it’s a good idea to talk to you like this instead of talking to myself. That’s not healthy, right? I mean sometimes it’s the only intelligent conversation you can have, even before … the Turn. Anyway, Daniel Johnson, you might or might not recognize the name. I used to be an entertainer. I started out doing set construction stage as well as big and small screen companies. One day they needed a stand-in for somebody I looked like. It went well, I was invited back to help. Soon after, I was working on getting my certification in stunt work through the stunt actors guild, basically. I picked up stage fighting, driving, falling, all sorts of things. It was fun, and I enjoyed the adrenaline rush. I’ve always been a jack-of-all-trades kind of person, so when I wasn’t doing stunt work, I was doing production work. Training in Kali through Guru Inosanto and Kuya Marcaida. They thought I was a natural, and maybe I was. I picked it all up. Never thought I’d have to use it for real.
So if you know my face, that’s great. If not, that was part of the job too. I got to do some cool stuff in the day. Least I got paid for crazy stuff. These days I don’t work for money, I work for my life. Thirty foot fall into a raging river? Yeah I don’t have divers to pull me out now, or give me air from a scuba tank. Better know how to swim, and you better be able to put your own shoulder back in if you pop it out.
So, skills. I mentioned some. I can cook, decently. I’ve several years in Filipino Martial Arts and stage fighting, and some kickboxing, but since then I’ve had to make use of it for real. I can handle most firearms pretty well. My armorers on set saw to that. I can build and wire a house, repair most mechanical things. I can do general repair and maintenence and jury-rig a lot of stuff. I can drive and handle a radio. Set work and the training made me strong, but I’m not a bodybuilder. I’ve got some mobility training for doing stuff like parkour but.. I’m nowhere near some of the people on Youtube, even after all this time. I play guitar, and can sing decently. It helps from time to time. Beatbox as well as just general impressions and impersonations. Sometimes it’s good to talk my way past people, other time it gets a smile or a laugh. So what first aid I picked up on the set, I’ve had to live by and it’s gotten better. I had to learn survival out here in the wild, scrounged up some books, but I’ve run into a few good ol’ boys. Jason Raynes was one of them. Former Army CavScout/Sniper, was running with a motorcycle gang for a while. Film crews sometimes have to make good out there, and you pick up stuff, but he took what I knew and built on it a ton. I heard he’s alive in Colorado somewhere. Might have to track him down.
I guess being able to do a lot is the advantage of above average intelligence. It sounds like I’m some sort of war machine, but I’m not. The injuries catch up to you, especially on the cold days sometimes. I don’t fight unless I gotta. Running is usually a better option. Ammo is scarce, even in Tennessee.. you know the patron state of shootin’ stuff. I’ve had to learn how to use a bow in the process. I had some training, but these days you have to live by it. Jason introduced me to ‘em. Most of the time I carry a sling-bow. Small, compact, folds up, easy to find the parts for, can take down a deer or a man no problem. Undead too with a clean shot. Ammo is cheap for hunting small game. Rocks will usually do just fine. When you need something meatier taken down, a quick conversion and it’s ready. Arrows can be hard to come by. Most department stores were out of them after hunting season when the Turn happened. I have to make my own. I’ve got a few things to help, but I can make do with just a pocket knife in a pinch.
Most of the time you’ll find me wearing at least a leather jacket. It rubs less than cloth, cuts the wind, and oh yeah… the undead can't scratch or bite through it most of the time. I’ve got a couple old t-shirts I wear. Ripstop cargo pants, olive drab are usually what you can find me wearing, with a pair of broken-in hiking boots, or a pair of running shoes sometimes. I usually have gloves, shades, cap and hoodie. Been having to scrounge warmer clothes lately, heading up north.
Extras
Character Quote: Something they say a lot or live by Theme Song: What would be playing when they walk up if we were in a movie? Aura Color: Are they a fiery red that burns everything around them or a soft soothing blue? Or any other color for that matter. Scent: Hound just sniffed your clothing to track you, what would it smell like? Anything Else:
Name: Alexandra LeFores Age:40 Race:Human Rank: Captain Skills: Statistical analysis, land navigation, navigation, astronavigation, zero-g combat, survival, EVA, EVA combat, oxygen conservation (pretty much standard to most military pilots) Navy History (ground and space), Naval & Aerospace combat tactics and strategy, gambling (cardsharp), combat sports (boxing/kickboxing), hand to hand: advanced (Navy combatives, supplemental civilian training)
Away Mission Equipment: (In the unlikely event) Standard Aliance Combat Hardsuit Standard Alliance Battle Rifle Multispectrum handheld scanner vibro-knife any other equipment necessary for the mission
Appearance:
Quick-Bio: Alexandria, or Alex to friends, or those that know her well joined the Alliance Navy, originally as a candidate for combat flight school, and officer candidate training. Soon after she made the decision to be a career officer. She's worked her way through the ranks over the decades of service, distinguishing herself as a fighter jock, before being 'grounded' as she put it, after several years as CAG. She was brought into the position of an apprentice command officer, where her expertise was useful, but often was expected to watch and learn. Being something of a gambler, and with the killer instinct of a fighter, she was able to offer insight into opponents now and again, when to bluff, when to call the other's bluff. With a good head for statistical analysis, reading people, being something of a gambler, understanding chance and probability, and having the mentality of a street fighter, she was able to roll these all together, becoming a young commander with a solid head for strategy and tactics, and while tough in discipline, has often proved to be amenable to crew, viewing them as family. As such she is often well liked by her subordinates, and this has followed her into the later years of her command, now a seasoned captain.
Name: Gabriel "Icebox" Danvers Age:27 Race:Human Rank: Lieutenant Skills: Away Mission Equipment: pilot soft suit, pilot sidearm, comlink, survival pack and ejection pod (in the case of actually ejecting) Appearance:
Quick-Bio: Joined the military just out of primary education, to get away from home. Wanted to be a pilot, and entered into flight officers school as a Marine, transferred to the navy, and is now CAG and Squadron Leader for Angel Squadron.
The Delphi Battleship was designed to fill the gap between cruiser and dreadnought. It is meant to be nimble (for it's size), with the ability to handle a good amount of punishment and deal out withering amounts of firepower against single or multiple targets. It was given enough interceptors to keep it from being too weak against lighter craft. The designers favored the use of energy weapons, as the cost for their operation would be minimal, and would require less support crew, reducing operations cost overall. The Delphi class protects itself at short and midrange with Gatling railguns and particle beams against fighters and torpedos. Particle beam may be used at much longer ranges and in an anti-ship capacity, due to their variable power output. With a matter/anti-mater reaction system, it produces plenty of power for the ship in heavy combat operations, while needing little fuel space. There have been some talks about putting magnetic ramscoups on some designs to harvest matter and anti-matter while on long cruises to supplement fuel resources. This is still being discussed in committee.
These ships are relatively simple in design, allowing them to be built quickly, as capital ships go. They are often built at one of three shipyards, Terra-Luna Drive Yards, a floating space assembly near Earth and it's moon, Olympus Station, near Jupiter and it's moons, and Ares Drydock, near the asteroid belt, making use of the materials mined from the nearby belt and :Mars. Others may be in production elsewhere, but currently there are a few in the works in the Sol system.
Ship Designation: ANS Typhoon Ship Registry - NS 2187 Class: Delphi Class Battleship Role: Multiple roles
Propulsion Matter/Anti-Matter reactor Top Speed: Classified Sublight: Impulse Thrust Armaments: Particle Batteries (phaser strips) - (9) - Arranged along the long axis of the ship, fore, mid, aft, three strips each section, 120 degrees apart, like points of a triangle, creating 360 degree coverage on all sides with converging fields of fire. Typically favors muon particles, largest, heaviest, which provide optimal materials destruction as well as 50% pass-through in many cases. Range: 500 kilometers +/- 50
LBX Gatlin Railguns - (27) Type: Hybrid Turret RoF: Cyclic (2500-4200 rounds per minute, variable) Range: 10-20 km Primary Purpose: Anti-Interceptor Secondary: Anti-missile Payload: 2000 (Combat mix - explosive and armor piercing) Operation: Central Fire Control, Bridge Fire Control, manual backup, One gunner per weapon, or may operate fire-linked and in clusters, overlapping interlinked fields of fire Location, Covering hangar bays, nose section, engines, and along central axis to supplement particle batteries.
Name: Photon/Particle Lance (1) Location: Axial mounted Purpose: Anti-ship, anti-planetary Range: 2000 km+ Operation: Bridge Firecontrol and Engineering Payload: NA Rate of Fire: Slow, (may fire at most 1 shot every fifteen seconds, but risks serious damage and overheating, or even catastrophic explosion. Optimally 1 shot per minute, still runs 'hot' but not dangerously so) Operation: MARA (Matter/Anti-Matter Reactor Assembly) begins to ramp up power as if preparing to transfer to FTL travel, but instead focuses the energy through magnetic constrictors, creating a release of a mixture of photons and subatomic particles. The beam is roughly one-hundred feet wide in the core, and travels two thousand or more kilometers. Is unlikely to hit anything less than capital ships, due to time required to fire, The weapon does have a secondary corona along the main beam, and is likely to also distort and ionize electronics. Near misses may still destroy armor and damage materials. The discharge lasts a few moments, up to fifteen seconds. A common tactic that might be used for such a weapon is to sweep an area, using attitude/reaction thrusters. Damage to each target is reduced, but may still be significant. Often used as a scare tactic, or to try to catch smaller targets off-guard, boil off armor and weapons, sensors, and blind enemy ships. Maneuver is difficult and requires precise timing between navigation, fire-control, engineering, and of course commanding officer. Takes a bit of prep. Recovery from such maneuver can take a minute or more between main engines and RCS. Armor & Defense Systems Armor: 2000 MM nano ferro ceramics, covering main hull Turrets: 40 mm carbon-ceramic nanoweave composite (light, tough, strong)
Magnetic Shields - Designed to deflect micrometeorites, space dust, and may offer some protection against kinetic/ballistic weaponry. More effective against ion, plasma, and some particle weaponry, but not terribly so against particle weapons.
Gravitonic Shields - Using a shell of gravitons, will deflect objects, and will disperse the energy of incoming directed energy weapons into space and along the surface of the shield. Some pass-through is possible.
Shield Maximum Graviton Load (Continuous) 1865 MegaWatts Shield Maximum Energy Dissipation Rate 3.5x10^4 kilowatts
Electronics Warfare Package - Provides electronic countermeasures against enemy combatants, namely against missile locks, and helping to prevent electronic/digital intrusions. Not impossible, but just more difficult. Sensors, Systems, Computers & Programs Basic Operations - All the typical needs to operate a ship of the class, including a 100,000 km comms system Advanced Sensor Package - A full suite of optics and sensors in all common spectrums, includes laser and radio telescopes, able to survey out to roughly four lightyears. Roughly 90% of ship is covered with cameras Motion Perimeter & Collision Warning System - Primarily used for docking, and port maneuvers, tight spaces. Military Sensor Array & Combat Computer - Pretty self explanatory, includes analysis and coordination, allowing a single communications officer to coordinate multiple combat elements, May not be used if working with Con-Com ship, but is a ready-backup. Targeting & Combat Computer - Can track 120 targets at 1000 kilometers, and can ident an additional 80 at roughly, 1400 kilometers. SARA - Stastical Analysis & Reactive Assistant. Ship's AI - Designed to help with tactical analysis, navigation, coordination, and more. Personality develops individually to each ship, captain, and crew. Auxiliary & Support Systems Crew Quarters - Several barracks style quarters in place, a number of two or four person dorms. Officers have individual quarters. Crew Recreation Facilities - Weight room, exercise room (open space, gymnastics, self defense, dance, and so on), mess hall, officers mess, running track, gaming/recreation room. Dining facilities have access to 'replicators' and protein resequences, but a small staff is on hand in the officers mess for the 'real deal'. Armory & Shooting Range Hangars:- 2 - Each hangar contains 2 shuttles and twelve interceptors, giving limited but decent intercept capability. (Angel Squadron and Wraith Squadron) Hard Suits & Soft Suits available on every deck, combat protocol all crew or as many crew as possible are expected to be suited up. Hull Breach Sealing System - Activates in the event of most breaches, but everyone is to be suited up, just in case they get sucked out. Atmosphere recyclers/scrubbers - self explanatory Atmosphere tanks - enough to last a few days in an emergency for the entire crew, most often used for helping cycle airlocks and refill suit tanks and the like FTL Accellerators - Allow rapid deployment into FTL travel, usually used for combat/emergency jumps. Escape pods and lifeboats - pretty self explanatory, short range, not meant for long term, varies based on how many are crammed into each. Self Destruct - Just overload the engines already... or have a containment failure on the antimatter bottles
Ship/Craft: SA-43 "Hammerhead" Type: Endo-Exo Trans-atmospheric Attack Jet Primary Function : Deployment in combat missions (Combat Space Patrol), interception, Close Air Support (CAS) and Colonial Defense, but can also be adapted for SAR (Search and Rescue). Manufacturer: AeroTech Space Division Length : 11.5 m Height : 1.7 m Wingspan : 12.5 m
Ferry range: Over 2,000 mega statue kilometres (1.242 million miles, roughly) Combat radius: N/A Fighter mission: N/A Attack mission: N/A Maneuverability: Propulsion : He3 fueled SCRAMjet (Supersonic Combustion RAMjet) Engines : SCRAMjet - enabling the SA-43 to fly from inside an atmosperic envelope to a transorbital fase right into ACM (Air Combat Manoevring, i.e. dogfighting), in the (almost complete) vacuum of space
Armament : 1 x frontal, sub-nose gimbal-mounted electro-magnetic railgun (capable of covering a 50° kill-zone) 1 x dual-barrel aft-mounted railgun, mounted in a turret, capable of auto-target seeking and tracking Existing hardpoint configuration : 6 x hardpoints, capable of carrying: - a. Missiles : Spartan space-to-space missile - b. Bombs - c. Pods : for carrying special electronic Eqt or instrument modules
Features: The SA-43 has various modular components, easily replaced in case of malfunction. The canopies are detachable, enabling the craft not only to dock on board carriers, but also on various types of space stations. The cockpit usually is lifted up to the flightdeck (hence smaller decks are possible). It also doubles as an escape pod in case of midair emergency. LIDAR : Laser Infrared Detection And Ranging. Long Range, configurable. Can track and engage up to 100 independent targets. HUD : Heads-Up Display. Mainly used for displaying flight parameters, navigational information and overall combat intelligence. ODP : Optical Disk Playback. Used for mission data recordings. Can be used lateron for mission evaluation. Crew: 1 Introduction date: N/A Unit Replacement Cost: N/A
Mission: Specific SA-43 tasks include: - Intercept and destroy enemy craft in conjunction with ground or airborne fighter control under all-endo/exo conditions. - Conduct day and night close air support. - Conduct day and night deep air support. Deep air support consists of LIDAR search and attack, interdiction, and strikes against enemy installations using all types of weapons compatible with assigned craft. - Conduct armed escort of friendly craft. - Be able to operate from spacecraft carriers, advanced bases, and expeditionary airfields. - Be able to deploy or conduct extended range operations employing aerial refueling. Ship Appearance:
Name:Lincoln David Myles Aliases:Linc/Link Age: 29 Gender: Occupation Before The Outbreak: Miami Metro Fire Rescue/Firefighter/Fire Investigator Group: None, yet.
Appearance
Height: 5’ 10” Build: Athletic, lean. Eyes: Hair: Skin Tone: Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Only put what is visible with their current clothing on
Psychology
Trait * Trait
Personality: Personality: TBR - sorry.. think his history and other things say a lot about him though.
History
History:
Extras
Character Quote: Something they say a lot or live by
Family: Linc is not aware of most of his family and their condition. He would like to think they are out there, surviving. Father - Wayne Myles - Unknown Mother - Felicia Myles - Unknown Spouse - None - Divorced - Karen Myles/Davenport - Unknown Children - None Grandmother - Irene Billings - Unknown Grandfather - Lawrence Billings - Deceased (pre-turn complications due to age) Grandmother - Brenda Myles - Deceased (pre-turn complications due to age) Grandfather - William Myles - (pre-turn complications cardiac arrest) Aunts/Uncles - None
Notable skills: ((Anything you're particularly good at? Anything you suck at too might need to know...)) Firefighting/Rescue - As a professional firefighter, Linc has spent thousands of hours fighting fires. He has also helped investigate fires and arsons, which gives him a very wide working knowledge of firemaking as well as fire fighting, and perception of fire in general. As a rescue operator he is skilled in climbing, rigging systems, breaking down barricades, evaluating burning structures for relative safety (compared to the situation). He is trained in CPR, first aid, and other life-saving techniques.
Emergency Responder - Linc has been on the front lines of emergency situations and keeps a cool head, and evaluates the danger of situations quickly. Being calm but urgent is critical to saving lives, and seeing how best to help quickly. Most emergency services personnel are also the type to rush toward danger to help others and Linc is no exception. This has also included excavation techniques to dig people out of collapsed structures, and prevent caveins where possible.
EMS Training - Many firefighters are trained as Emergency Medical Technicians, and even paramedics. They are often able to administer advanced first aid and tend to physical trauma wounds with a measure of skill and professionalism, as well as transporting injured and sick to places where they can receive better treatment, and will work tirelessly to keep their patients alive when in their care.
Combat Driving - Firefighters often spend their time driving on the road in bad traffic conditions in high pressure, time-sensitive situations. Handling a multi-ton vehicle in tight residential streets, whether a full fire engine or simply a rescue tool truck, or even rescue ambulance, makes them skilled drivers, and can handle most vehicles with above average skill. They may also have to know how to muscle their way through wrecked out cars left over from disaster scenarios like hurricanes, tornados, and floods.
Soldier Skills - Linc was a soldier in the military and has learned the basics of weapons handling and qualifying with those weapons. Hand to hand training, navigation, and other skills were required that he learn. Retired from the military for seven years now, he has kept up on some of those skills, and worked to keep others even sharper as firefighters sometimes have to go into dangerous neighborhoods. In some places it is not unheard of or entirely uncommon for emergency services to come under gunfire from locals. Occasionally, they have had to defend themselves bodily, but this is a rarity.
Lincoln was born Dec 12 in Boca Raton. HIs father was a police officer and his mother was in retail. Lincoln was an only child, like his mother and father before him. He had more than a few friends growing up in school. School itself was relatively easy, and he found he didn’t have to study much. For the most part, Linc didn’t seem to have much direction in what he wanted to do. He did know that he wanted to help people, much like his father. When he graduated, he enlisted in the military. After basic, he became a damage control officer, learning the techniques to firefighting, safety, prevention, thinking outside the box. He found that he liked the work, and applying brain to bad situations. When his term was up in the military, he returned to Florida, moving to Miami. There, he was able to quickly secure a position with the metro fire and rescue department. The skills easily translated over, and after a brief run through of civilian training, he was quickly on a fire crew.
It was during this transitional period that Linc met Karen. A gorgeous, charming, and funny young lady who he took a shine to. Karen was a local entertainer, doing voice work, some media in commercials, and singing gigs. The initial idea of having a firefighter for a boyfriend was alluring, and they both hit it off. After a few months the two of them had gotten engaged, and were still heavily involved with each other. A few months after the engagement, they were married. They honemooned in Puerto Vallarta for a month. Coming back as newlyweds, they enjoyed themselves and each other quite a bit.
Linc’s work began to pick up, and Karen’s career picked up, and soon both were busy, unable to be with each other as much. As a result they drifted. Their lives seemed to be moving in different directions for the time being, as they had little time for each other. Karen resented it a little, but Linc didn’t seem to as much, perhaps because of his military background. Being an emergency lifesaver has it’s demands, and it seemed that even when they were both home, their midns were on their jobs, especially Linc. He began to gain weight from stress eating, and began having trouble sleeping, suffering from insomnia, and when he did sleep, he often had bad dreams. He’d seen two friends of his die in a house fire, the fire chief had opted for a two in, two out play and during ventilation part of the attic had fallen in. Linc had been on the pumper crew that day, and still felt helpless as two friends burned alive. He still hears their screams in his sleep sometimes… except that there was no way they could have been heard. One had their neck broken by the falling debris. The other was buried, and between the roar of the fire and the hoses, and all the other noise, it would have been covered up.
Linc went on fighting fires, and became tireless in his efforts to keep his brother firemen alive as well as save lives, often pushing his limits. Soon the already distant marriage he shared was on the rocks, and Karen was filing for divorce. It was a wound to his heart, but at the same time he understood. Eventually the papers were signed, and they went their separate ways. They still talk time to time, and as Karen has told her friends, she still cares for him, and the same is true in reverse. They simply drifted because of other factors and choices.
Since then, Linc has worked to get himself back to good, stopping the stress eating, getting back into ‘fighting’ shape. Over the last three years or so he’s made leaps and bounds. These days he doesn’t work so much on the fighting crews directly, but is a team leader and is slotted to become an assistant chief. He works with the fire investigators, picking through the wreckage to find the causes of the fires
Linc has also paid his dues as an EMT-B, or a Basic, helping deal with victims from fires, wrecks, and other accidents. He’s sutured wounds, administered CPR, done plenty of intubations, dealt with shock, and had to drive a rescue ambulance through insane traffic. He’s been shot at and missed, and come through all of it. Before the turn, he had just gained his EMT-I certification or became an “Intermediate” EMT.
When the Turn started, he had been working an upswing in fires, and some of the crew were down from illness. A couple others had been injured, both of them bitten by a crazed patient. Word from their buddies was that they had been patched up but were now having some kind of raging fever, and were fighting off some kind of infection, so they were still at the hospital. As a result of being short-handed, Linc had been put on the inside crew. They were fighting a fire that had cropped up at an elementary school which was starting to be used by the CDC as a field hospital.
They weren’t able to move the sick very far, but were able to clear enough space to be safe and create a workzone around the school for the fire department. Whether it was deliberately set, or not, Linc never really knew. Part of the building sagged and collapsed as they simply weren’t able to create enough ventilation fast enough. A lot of the building was fire resistant, but eventually the heat weakened the structures. He was buried in a classroom that he had been working on venting under part of the sub-ceiling and between two girders, one above his head and one below his feet. Most of the windows had been shattered so the temperature in the room had been brought down significantly, and most of the fire was crushed and buried left only to smolder with minimal fuel. His gear protected him from the heat, and his SCBA (self-contained breathing apparatus) fed him clean cool air, until suffocation forced him to wake up. Realizing he was out of air, he peeled the mask off, or at least he felt he was suffocating. The air was still oppressively hot, but not enough to sear his face and lungs. The metal around him had cooled. His SCBA tank had been an 88 cubic foot one, designed to give him an hour of breathable air. That was designed to be at a resting standing rate of consumption, or at least that was how the manufacturer measured things. Being unconscious he used less, so he had no idea how long he had been out, maybe an hour and a half, to two hours.
The smoke had been thick, but he’d recovered his axe. Where he was, he had barely enough room to stand, but didn’t have enough room to make it out through a window. But he had air, so working quickly he evaluated what his best plan of attack would be. He could bust through the cinderblock with his pick on the axe, but there might be rebar to deal with. The ceiling was sheet metal, insulation, and roofing materials. Sturdy too. Deciding to try his luck with the wall, he began chopping the frame out of the window that he could. Once he had the useless metal out of the way, he began busting into the cinderblock, making quick work, he soon had a space big enough to crawl out, even with a few pieces of rebar sticking up. They were short, and thin enough for him to bend with his bodyweight and good old leverage and muscle.
Once out of the building, he made his way back to the trucks up front to find a scene of chaos. Several of his firefighter buddies were struggling with what looked to be sick people from the field hospital and maybe some of the doctors or nurses, or volunteers. Some of them had grievous wounds, gaping gashes, or chunks of flesh missing from limbs, necks, torsos… but it seemed to not affect them. As he watched, they grappled with his friends, and tried to bite, like crazed animals. One of htem did bite his friend Tim Van Buren, clamping down onto his bunker jacket. Tim gave a shout of pain and punched the young latino woman who had bitten him in the side of the head, hard. Tim was the kind of bulky firefighter that could carry two unconscious men out of a burning building and go back for two more like it was nothing. The woman reeled from the blow. She should have probably been knocked out, but she turned back and grappled the much larger man again who seemed to struggle with the sheer power the girl exuded. Finally he planted a boot in her chest, sending her flying back, onto her ass. But she seemed unphased as she got up and came for Tim again. Linc made a move to intervene putting himself behind the woman, and bringing the handle of his axe across her neck and shoulders, restraining her, but she turned with murderous strength in his arms and began to attack him, grabbing on to his bunker to pull closer and try to bite. He got his arm under her chin and lifted, locking the spine in place, until Tim hauled her bodily off him, warning her all the while to calm down.
They were doing their best to not hurt the woman. Their job was to save lives, treat injury, not cause death and pain. Climbing back to his feet, Linc let out a determined sigh and hefted his axe. “Last time, lady… calm down,” he warned. When she came again, he parried her hands away and slipped to the side, hooking his arm around her neck, sweeping around and locking her into a sleeper hold, a blood choke guaranteed to put her out in eight to ten seconds. Which ticked by as she clawed at his arm, struggling fiercely. Twenty seconds went by, as Linc clamped down with all of his might. Thirty… nothing. The woman was not passing out or even slowed down. “She’s not going down,” he grunted to Tim. Finally he let her go, giving the woman a shove. As she caught herself, he turned sideways and gave a slight hop, landing on one foot while his other snapped out in a sidekick, connecting his bootheel with the back of her head, with enough force to knock her flat. It was a perfect kick, one that he’d had hours and hours of kickboxing training, as well as what he’d picked up in the military and from his LEO buddies. A moment later she was getting back up, despite what had to have been a knockout blow, and probably severe neck injury. That blow could have even killed the woman. She seemed unphased again as she came for them. Linc looked over at Tim questioningly. “I’m out of options..” Tim nodded, then cracked her across the back of the head with the flat of his own axe in a sickening crunch. The woman reeled, but seemed to recover and keep going. “What the fuck,” Tim exclaimed in shock and fear. That blow should have been pretty much fatal. Linc hauled back on his axe and swung for the fences. The blow took the woman in the neck and blew out the other side, lopping her head off. “Well that’s gonna be a lawsuit,” he said, then noticed that the woman’s head was laying there, working its jaw as though attempting to bite thin air. When it didn’t stop after a few moments he looked over at Tim.
Gunfire drew their attention as several cops and a couple national guardsmen were resorting to hand to hand and small arms to try to deal with the unruly sick. He watched a national guardsman dump a three-shot burst through an elderly gentleman’s chest, blowing fleshy chunks out the man’s back, only he kept coming, didn’t even drop. The soldier fired again, and to no effect. A moment later he was grabbed as the old man began biting and gnawing into the terrified and agonized soldier.
He and Tim had split from the scene after realizing that just pushing and punching and kicking and all would not work, and the crazies were piling up too fast. They gathered some of their gear, and radiod back to station, but it seemed that there was chaos back there. They had fought the sick off of their fire brothers and went to regroup, realizing they couldn’t fight a fire adequately in a combat zone, and it had wiped most of the building out anyway… they had opted to make back for the firestation.
The streets were crazy getting back and more than once they witnessed people being attacked by others. Most of them were bound by their Hippocratic Oath, but the way they could do the most good was to get back to base and get reorganized, and talk to emergency services dispatch. When they returned to the station there were a few of their bretheren, attacking others. One or two had downed a couple of the sick. They informed them that at least two of their guys had been completely without pulse or other sign of life, and had gotten back up a while later and began attacking. A short bit later they received official instructions from the CDC to restrain the sick, and if they reanimate to stay away from them. If given no option, severing the brain stem or massive brain trauma should be inflicted as they were clinically dead and proven to reanimate. Police were hesitant to fire on citizens but had seen the results of trying to cuff or restrain them, when some had pulled off their own hands, or de-gloved their hands of skin and flesh. Military weren’t quite so hesitant, but the number of walking dead was growing greatly. The mayor was calling for evacuation by now, and emergency personnel and police were instructed to facilitate.
Soon the fire department and police had school and city buses, gravel haulers, semis, and the like conscripted to haul people out of the city, getting them away from any adhoc evacuation point they could. Eventualy it didn’t matter. The military began sweeping fireteams through the street, shooting anything that moved. In a few places aircraft were droping white phosphorus and napalm, usually among highrises where fire control wasn’t as much an issue, seemingly trying to stem the tide.
Eventually, he made it to the store where Karen worked, which was Academy sporting goods, but found her gone, and people were looting. He managed to break into the gun case himself and snagged a pistol with boxes of ammo. and some magazines. Once he was locked and loaded he headed back out, and continued on, making his way to where Karen lived, but again found her gone. There was a small evac site near there he went to, but it seemed his ex-wife had evaporated. It was then that he picked up an AR-15 off of a police officer that had expired. A shot to the head made sure. From there he picked up several mags, and fortunately was able to scrounge up more ammo occasionally as the AR platform in .223 uses the same ammo as the military’s M-16 or M-4 carbines, or HK416. It was a familiar platform, simply lacking burst or automatic selections, he was able to battle his way through the streets. That was weeks ago.
Occasionally he hears gunfire around the city. There are still survivors out there. He’s no exception, but ammunition is very low. He’s only got a little water left, food ran out yesterday.. his last Power Bar. For a while, he was holed up in a loft apartment above a coffee shop. The place had been abandoned. He needed to get back to Boca Raton to see how his folks were doing. Karen had evaporated into thin air, just like she had done, leaving his life, for the most part. So it was that he’d gathered what supplies he’d could carry. He removed the reflective tape from his thin bunker gear and had set out across the city, figuring he’d find a vehicle along the way he could use. He’d been careful and fast, doing his best to avoid gunfire. It had been a rough three days. But now he found himself confronted with a converging group of walkers. Drawn perhaps by the gunfire he’d heard a short distance away. There were people nearby.
Disability/Fear: Mild PTSD - Is a little freaked out about things falling on him, especially things on fire. Heart Condition - Like most firefighters, he is likely to have some heart related issue in the future due to the stress involved with his former occupation Heat Susceptible - Due to fighting long hours in heavy bunker gear, and amidst roaring blazes has somewhat made him susceptible to some heat conditions sometimes. Caffeine Addiction, former - Like most people, Linc lived on coffee and soda. Caffeine withdrawls were a real pain, but thankfully he’d put himself through a cessation time, weaning himself off of it thanks to the coffee shop and a good bottle of ibuprofen. Mild addiction to alcohol - Drinks to help himself sleep, sometimes when he has insomnia… sometimes when he isn’t dealing with insomnia. Not an all the time thing, just occasionally, and rarely to get really drunk.
Weapon of Choice: Fire axe - solid, sturdy, reliable Taurus .45 ACP pistol - 5 rounds AR-15 - 30 rounds (1 full mag), scavenged off a corpse at a police rally point ARDIS tool (x2) - primarily used for entry and leveraging things, but could be used in close quarters against ambulatory corpses effectively, sharpened Tri-Bar Entry tool
Appearance: Tanned and toned, with the physique of a life-long swimmer, giving her powerfully built legs from the waist down, with a tummy in a flat 4-pack, with well defined neck and very strong shoulders and upper chest. Her arms are fairly cut from wrestling with large fish on deep sea lines in battles that can last for over an hour. Living mostly on a marine diet has left her with little body fat, but does leave her deficient in some things.
Family: Mother: Karen Daniels - Unknown Father: Jacob Daniels - Deceased before Outbreak.
Personality: Independent, strong willed, a bit of a loner, without being anti-social.
Notable skills: Spending most of her life on a boat she is a strong swimmer, is able to navigate the waters easily. She is able to survive in coastal and oceanic environments fairly comfortably. Fairly good cook when it comes to fish and other marine life. Coastal & Oceanic Survival Skills: Deep sea fishing, spear gun fishing, bow fishing. Able to set lobster and crab traps. Knows how to hunt for clams, oysters, octopus and squid. Knows some uses for marine life in a medicinal fashion. Water extreme sports - surfing, windsurfing, jet-skiing, and water skiing.
Bio: Being the only child of her parents she spent most of her days with her father on the boat as he ran a small business of taking people out on the weekend trips deep sea fishing. Her mother worked out of the home, handling the office duties for the family business, even after Zephy took over. They were a happy family that allowed their daughter to grow and learn what she wanted. Growing up in Miami she was use to being out in the heat and humidity all the time, though the cooler air on the ocean was always welcoming. As she grew from a child to a young teen her father gave her more responsibilities on the boat, mainly being in charge of making lunch for the men and women they had on the boat with them. Learning how to prep and cook fish as well as lobster, crab and clams gave her knife handling skills. She picked up free-diving while learning to inspect the hull and for doing minor boat repair. SCUBA diving, spear and bow fishing came later as she got into her late teens, and quickly became a divemaster, adding scuba-diving tours to her father’s business, which soon became her business. Her father passed away in an unfortunate incident on the water with a shark. Not long after her father passed away, her mother and herself chose to sell their house and invest more into the family business by moving to live on the boat at the marina itself.
In her free time, she took to sport free-diving as well as surfing, windsurfing, and jet-skiing. Needless to say she is almost more comfortable in and on the water than she is on land. It almost doesn’t move right to her.
When word of the outbreak started, Zephy and her mother had pulled away from the marina to seek the safety in the open waters they were use to. After a few days had passed they headed back into the marina to be able to get a few things they needed but didn’t grab. During their resupply trip Karen and Zephy got separated, leaving Zephy to get back to the yacht herself. Returning every so often, hoping to find her mother. She makes a few runs now and again for supplies she can gather from other boats, using the tender boat and leaving her yacht anchored a ways away from shore.
Disability/Fear: Suffers from Diver’s Ear now and again. She has a healthy fear of large sharks, most over the 5ft she doesn’t tangle with.
Weapon of Choice: Spear Gun, A dozen spear rods. Compact Bow with adjustable draw poundage used mostly for bow fishing, generally having somewhere in the range of twenty to thirty fishing arrows at all times.
Equipment:
64' Viking Enclosed Flybridge “Tide Runner” - GM Has info on this --Watermaker in need of repairs. --400 Gallons of Fuel Remaining
Deep Sea Fishing Equipment: 6 - G.Loomis Rods, Graphite and glass light weight balanced rods. Assorted Reels Assorted Lines and Trolling lines. In assorted poundages. Assorted Hooks, lures and weights. Assorted pliers, wire cutters and lip grips for fishing. Catch Nets of varying sizes A few Gaff poles for hauling fish in. Six Crab Traps
Freediving gear: Flippers, Masks, snorkels and weight belts. Fish bag for placing speared fish in when diving.
150 gallons Fresh water, stored in on board tank. 20lbs dried Rice 10lbs Dried Beans. 6lbs White Flour 6lbs Corn Meal
Several changes of Clothes
Personal: Always carrying a mora stainless steel knife. When off boat: A pair of bolt cutters, wire cutters, pry bar. 2 - 32oz bottles of water. A dozen mixed snack bars, energy bars. Speargun 15 Assorted Arrows. Duffelbag
Tide Runner may end up being the boat for Yacht Group. Gm has Info on the Boat, will detail later.
Tearstone and I have spoken on length about this character ^^ He hasn't given the final stamp of approval yet.
[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=6ecff6][center]Tearstone[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img]Image[/img][/center]
[hr][hr][h3][b][i][color=6ecff6][center]Summary[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[b][color=6ecff6]Name:[/color][/b] Tearstone
[b][color=6ecff6]Aliases:[/color][/b] Tearstone
[b][color=6ecff6]Age:[/color][/b] 33
[b][color=6ecff6]Birthday:[/color][/b] March 13th
[b][color=6ecff6]Ethnicity:[/color][/b] Caucasian
[b][color=6ecff6]Location:[/color][/b] Resides in western Oklahoma
[b][color=6ecff6]Gender:[/color][/b]
[b][color=6ecff6]Major/Minor:[/color][/b] Associates degree in Occupational Studies - Massage Therapy
[b][color=6ecff6]Occupation:[/color][/b] Unemployed/Under-employed Cert. Massage Therapist, freelance writer
[b][color=6ecff6]Languages:[/color][/b] Fluent in English, Bad English/Profanity. Knowledgeable of Japanese, Spanish, and Latin.
[b][color=6ecff6]Current Bio Theme:[/color][/b] None
[color=6ecff6][b]Years Rping:[/b][/color] 20 years
[color=6ecff6][b]Preferred Rp Section:[/b][/color] Typically casual or advanced.
[color=6ecff6][b]Rp Level:[/b][/color] High casual to advanced.
[color=6ecff6][b]Dedication Level:[/b][/color] I don't know what yardstick to measure this with. It all depends on my interest, if I'm enjoying the writing and my partners.
[color=6ecff6][b]Biggest Rp Pet Peeve:[/b][/color] If you one-line me and use chatspeak where it doesn't belong, I will CUT you. Pay attention to lore and genre conventions. DO NOT fall silent on me. IF you're bored, say so. If something happens, freaking tell me. I want to get to know my partners out of character too.
[color=6ecff6][b]Teach New Rpers Or Coach New GM's:[/b][/color] Yes. Very much so. I love teaching and doing what I can to improve people's skills, and challenge their ability. I love fostering growth.
[hr][center][img]Image[/img][/center][hr][h3][b][i][color=6ecff6][center]Appearance[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[b][color=6ecff6]Height:[/color][/b] 5' 7"
[b][color=6ecff6]Weight:[/color][/b] Overweight
[b][color=6ecff6]Build:[/color][/b] Ectomorphic, athletic. Built like a tank... or a tall dwarf
[b][color=6ecff6]Eyes:[/color][/b] Hazel-gray, but color shift with light and mood.
[b][color=6ecff6]Hair:[/color][/b] Chocolate brown, collar length currently. May grow out again.
[b][color=6ecff6]Skin Tone:[/color][/b] Light, tan decently in summer, but I live like basement cat.
[b][color=6ecff6]Tattoos/Scars/Piercings:[/color][/b] No tats or piercings. Scar, right wrist (1 cun (3 finger widths), medial from hand crease.) Sits across radial bone on anterior, 45° angle, looks self inflicted, but is actually from fending off an attacker in middle school. Burn scar left knee, the size of a quarter. Stuck knee against hot muffler of lawn mower on accident around 2004. Burn scar torso lower right quadrant inferior to navel and one inch lateral, spilled hot-ass ramen on self last winter. Some of the liquid got lodged in waist band of shorts and caused burn.
[b][color=6ecff6]Personal Style:[/color][/b]
[hr][center][img]Image[/img][/center][hr][h3][b][i][color=6ecff6][center]Psychology[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[i][color=6ecff6][center][color=39b54a]Intelligent[/color] * [color=ed1c24]Procrastinator[/color] * [color=39b54a]Intuitive[/color] * [color=ed1c24]Apathetic[/color] * [color=39b54a]Flexible/Adaptable[/color] * [color=ed1c24]Cynical[/color][/center][/color][/i]
[b][color=6ecff6]Sexuality:[/color][/b] Kinsey 2
[b][color=6ecff6]Relationship Status:[/color][/b] Semi-open longterm relationship/domestic partnership
[b][color=6ecff6]Personality:[/color][/b] INTJ/P, Turbulent quality. Swings to INFJ/P at times. Born a Pisces, much of Tearston's personality has been altered by their experiences, bu thtey still posses a deep emotional reservoir. Highly creative, great with abstract reasoning and special reasoning, Tear spends much time considering many problems. The overall personality has lead to a life of creative and intellectual pursuits.
[b][color=6ecff6]Habits:[/color][/b]
[b][color=6ecff6]Hobbies:[/color][/b] Reading, writing/RPing, PC gaming especially MMORPG's, graphic design work. Trained in martial arts from the age of 7. Is a firearms and explosives enthusiast. Is enthusiastic about all things militaria, and has a keep interest in law enforcement as well. Music - listening, spinning records and live mixing, writing music and producing in digital audio workspaces such as FL Studio (Fruity Loops). Tear has been a musician since the sixth grade, and is self-taught on a few instruments not learned in school. Singing is another hobby band while somewhat skilled, they are terribly self-conscious about singing for others. Hiking, bushcraft and survival skills. Cooking is a joy and passion, and is considered to be an art form.
[b][color=6ecff6]Fears:[/color][/b] Tearstone has arachnaphobia to a moderate degree. Blame watching the movie by the same name when they were little. Fears physical trauma especially surgery. This gives them the [i]heebie-jeebies[/i]. They don't care for needles but will endure some poking and prodding. Tearstone fears leaving behind a negative legacy for their loved ones.
[b][color=6ecff6]Dislikes:[/color][/b]
[hr][center][img]Image[/img][/center][hr][h3][b][i][color=6ecff6][center]Cards On The Table[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[b][color=6ecff6]Rp's Currently Gming:[/color][/b] None on RPG
[b][color=6ecff6]Rp's Currently Enjoying:[/color][/b] None on RPG. Play by post Tabletop game on FB for Storm King's Thunder though.
[b][color=6ecff6]Past RP's Enjoyed:[/color][/b][list]
[*] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/77954-no-hope/ooc]No Hope[/url]
[*] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/78627-jungle-fever-a-vietnam-war-survival-rp/ooc]Jungle Fever[/url][/list]
[b][color=6ecff6]Other Places Of Interest:[/color][/b] [list]
[*] [url=https://www.star-fleet.com/webb/news]Star-Fleet[/url]
[*] [url=http://www.sw-rpg.net/forums/forum.php]Star Wars RPG[/url]
[*] [url=http://swrpforum.proboards.com/]Star Wars Roleplaying Group[/url]
[*] [url=https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/]Iwaku Roleplay[/url]
[/list]
[b][color=6ecff6]Favorite Posts:[/color][/b] Stay tuned.
[b][color=6ecff6]Upcoming Works:[/color][/b] The Raptor Company (a fantasy novel), [i]Crucible[/i], (a sci-fi novel)
[hr][center][img]Image[/img][/center][hr][h3][b][i][color=6ecff6][center]History[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[b][color=6ecff6]What Brings You To Role Player Guild:[/color][/b] Roleplay
[b][color=6ecff6]Life Before You Came To Role Player Guild:[/color][/b] Tearstone was a member of several play by post, forum RP's and chat RP's as well as in-game RP groups in various MMO's including World of Warcraft, Eve Online, Neverwinter Nights, Champions Online, and so on.
[b][color=6ecff6]Life Since You Came To Role Player Guild:[/color][/b] See above, not much has changed. Tearstone has made it through two major site crashes, but is still confident in Mahz.
[hr][center][img]Image[/img][/center][hr][h3][b][i][color=6ecff6][center]Extras[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[b][color=6ecff6]Quotes or Sayings:[/color][/b]
[b][color=6ecff6]Theme Song:[/color][/b] Really?
[b][color=6ecff6]Advice To The World:[/color][/b] Stop. Think about what you're doing. Think about the consequences and repercussions. Love each other.
[b][color=6ecff6]Anything Else:[/color][/b] - Nothing right now.
[hr][center][img]Image[/img][/center][hr]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><hr class="bb-hr"><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-h1"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i"><font color="#6ecff6"><div class="bb-center">Tearstone</div></font></span></span></div><br><div class="bb-center"><img src="" /></div><br><hr class="bb-hr"><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-h3"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i"><font color="#6ecff6"><div class="bb-center">Summary</div></font></span></span></div><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Name:</font></span> Tearstone<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Aliases:</font></span> Tearstone<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Age:</font></span> 33<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Birthday:</font></span> March 13th<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Ethnicity:</font></span> Caucasian<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Location:</font></span> Resides in western Oklahoma<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Gender:</font></span> <br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Major/Minor:</font></span> Associates degree in Occupational Studies - Massage Therapy<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Occupation:</font></span> Unemployed/Under-employed Cert. Massage Therapist, freelance writer<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Languages:</font></span> Fluent in English, Bad English/Profanity. Knowledgeable of Japanese, Spanish, and Latin. <br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Current Bio Theme:</font></span> None<br><font color="#6ecff6"><span class="bb-b">Years Rping:</span></font> 20 years<br><font color="#6ecff6"><span class="bb-b">Preferred Rp Section:</span></font> Typically casual or advanced.<br><font color="#6ecff6"><span class="bb-b">Rp Level:</span></font> High casual to advanced.<br><font color="#6ecff6"><span class="bb-b">Dedication Level:</span></font> I don't know what yardstick to measure this with. It all depends on my interest, if I'm enjoying the writing and my partners. <br><font color="#6ecff6"><span class="bb-b">Biggest Rp Pet Peeve:</span></font> If you one-line me and use chatspeak where it doesn't belong, I will CUT you. Pay attention to lore and genre conventions. DO NOT fall silent on me. IF you're bored, say so. If something happens, freaking tell me. I want to get to know my partners out of character too. <br><font color="#6ecff6"><span class="bb-b">Teach New Rpers Or Coach New GM's:</span></font> Yes. Very much so. I love teaching and doing what I can to improve people's skills, and challenge their ability. I love fostering growth.<br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-center"><img src="" /></div><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-h3"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i"><font color="#6ecff6"><div class="bb-center">Appearance</div></font></span></span></div><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Height:</font></span> 5' 7"<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Weight:</font></span> Overweight<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Build:</font></span> Ectomorphic, athletic. Built like a tank... or a tall dwarf<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Eyes:</font></span> Hazel-gray, but color shift with light and mood.<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Hair:</font></span> Chocolate brown, collar length currently. May grow out again.<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Skin Tone:</font></span> Light, tan decently in summer, but I live like basement cat. <br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Tattoos/Scars/Piercings:</font></span> No tats or piercings. Scar, right wrist (1 cun (3 finger widths), medial from hand crease.) Sits across radial bone on anterior, 45° angle, looks self inflicted, but is actually from fending off an attacker in middle school. Burn scar left knee, the size of a quarter. Stuck knee against hot muffler of lawn mower on accident around 2004. Burn scar torso lower right quadrant inferior to navel and one inch lateral, spilled hot-ass ramen on self last winter. Some of the liquid got lodged in waist band of shorts and caused burn. <br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Personal Style:</font></span> <br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-center"><img src="" /></div><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-h3"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i"><font color="#6ecff6"><div class="bb-center">Psychology</div></font></span></span></div><br><span class="bb-i"><font color="#6ecff6"><div class="bb-center"><font color="#39b54a">Intelligent</font> * <font color="#ed1c24">Procrastinator</font> * <font color="#39b54a">Intuitive</font> * <font color="#ed1c24">Apathetic</font> * <font color="#39b54a">Flexible/Adaptable</font> * <font color="#ed1c24">Cynical</font></div></font></span><br><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Sexuality:</font></span> Kinsey 2<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Relationship Status:</font></span> Semi-open longterm relationship/domestic partnership<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Personality:</font></span> INTJ/P, Turbulent quality. Swings to INFJ/P at times. Born a Pisces, much of Tearston's personality has been altered by their experiences, bu thtey still posses a deep emotional reservoir. Highly creative, great with abstract reasoning and special reasoning, Tear spends much time considering many problems. The overall personality has lead to a life of creative and intellectual pursuits. <br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Habits:</font></span> <br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Hobbies:</font></span> Reading, writing/RPing, PC gaming especially MMORPG's, graphic design work. Trained in martial arts from the age of 7. Is a firearms and explosives enthusiast. Is enthusiastic about all things militaria, and has a keep interest in law enforcement as well. Music - listening, spinning records and live mixing, writing music and producing in digital audio workspaces such as FL Studio (Fruity Loops). Tear has been a musician since the sixth grade, and is self-taught on a few instruments not learned in school. Singing is another hobby band while somewhat skilled, they are terribly self-conscious about singing for others. Hiking, bushcraft and survival skills. Cooking is a joy and passion, and is considered to be an art form.<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Fears:</font></span> Tearstone has arachnaphobia to a moderate degree. Blame watching the movie by the same name when they were little. Fears physical trauma especially surgery. This gives them the <span class="bb-i">heebie-jeebies</span>. They don't care for needles but will endure some poking and prodding. Tearstone fears leaving behind a negative legacy for their loved ones. <br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Dislikes:</font></span><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-center"><img src="" /></div><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-h3"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i"><font color="#6ecff6"><div class="bb-center">Cards On The Table</div></font></span></span></div><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Rp's Currently Gming:</font></span> None on RPG<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Rp's Currently Enjoying:</font></span> None on RPG. Play by post Tabletop game on FB for Storm King's Thunder though.<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Past RP's Enjoyed:</font></span><ul class="bb-list" style="white-space: normal;"><li><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/77954-no-hope/ooc">No Hope</a></li><li><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/78627-jungle-fever-a-vietnam-war-survival-rp/ooc">Jungle Fever</a></li></ul><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Other Places Of Interest:</font></span> <ul class="bb-list" style="white-space: normal;"><li><a target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener" href="https://www.star-fleet.com/webb/news">Star-Fleet</a></li><li><a target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener" href="http://www.sw-rpg.net/forums/forum.php">Star Wars RPG</a></li><li><a target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener" href="http://swrpforum.proboards.com/">Star Wars Roleplaying Group</a></li><li><a target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener" href="https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/">Iwaku Roleplay</a></li></ul><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Favorite Posts:</font></span> Stay tuned.<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Upcoming Works:</font></span> The Raptor Company (a fantasy novel), <span class="bb-i">Crucible</span>, (a sci-fi novel)<br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-center"><img src="" /></div><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-h3"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i"><font color="#6ecff6"><div class="bb-center">History</div></font></span></span></div><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">What Brings You To Role Player Guild:</font></span> Roleplay<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Life Before You Came To Role Player Guild:</font></span> Tearstone was a member of several play by post, forum RP's and chat RP's as well as in-game RP groups in various MMO's including World of Warcraft, Eve Online, Neverwinter Nights, Champions Online, and so on. <br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Life Since You Came To Role Player Guild:</font></span> See above, not much has changed. Tearstone has made it through two major site crashes, but is still confident in Mahz.<br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-center"><img src="" /></div><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-h3"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i"><font color="#6ecff6"><div class="bb-center">Extras</div></font></span></span></div><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Quotes or Sayings:</font></span><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Theme Song:</font></span> Really?<br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Advice To The World:</font></span> Stop. Think about what you're doing. Think about the consequences and repercussions. Love each other. <br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#6ecff6">Anything Else:</font></span> - Nothing right now. <br><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-center"><img src="" /></div><hr class="bb-hr"></div>