@The Man Emperor I see he's better than before but I feel as if he needs some more work. You still mention his telepathic abilities in his appearance section.
It kinda feels like his backstory is incomplete because 1). it cuts off at him getting his power. 2). Has no mention of him being affected by the curse or even going back to Araminta.
I also feel as if he can do a bit too much? Like he can turn completely invisible and impervious to non-magic attacks, summon chains that are harder than steel, and can sap the life out of people to heal himself? It's not super overpowered but I think he could be toned down just a little.
@The Man Emperor Now there's a few things that come to mind about Alexander. Literally, the first thing that comes to mind about him is that I feel as if he overlaps a bit with Shane - with them both being cops and they more or less have the same skills (though I think it's iffy a forensics guy would carry a gun). I feel like Alexander could have some traits that set him apart - that's another thing, there isn't really a whole lot to his character other than the fact that he's a cop in Russia. You could look at some of the other character sheets and try to see what I mean, I want characters with depth and personality over ability.
Also, you got his type wrong, he's definitely not an Awakened. He seems to either be an Affixed or an Agent, but I feel like you could go a bit more in-depth with that. Like the Truth Seeker just... randomly latches onto him conveniently at that moment? It kinda seems contrived, at best.
_______________________________________________ Alexander Karamazov Vanburen
Him/He | 28 | Russian-American | 5'8" | 165 lbs _______________________________________________ Inquisitive _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "What I have here is a symphony of melancholy sorrow and a crescendo of madness." ___________________________________
High Intellect Musician ⫻ Alexander is a skilled musician and composer, having been a first chair violinist, the pianist of his church, and an occasional singer. He has also composed multiple works, most of which are orchestral pieces, though he also plays covers of famous songs on his YouTube channel.
Unarmed Combatant ⫻ His late paranoid mother had him trained in self defense classes after a bout of school bullying. Thus, Alexander has been trained in a Krav Maga program. While by no means a master of it, he can hold well on his own.
Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Bozhe moi. I look good."
Alexander considers himself humble and does not say it aloud, but there is no denying that he has an attractive look. He possesses blue eyes, though they seem to be grey from a different angle. To add to that, he has chestnut colored hair that he usually styles with a sideward wipe, though sometimes he just lets it grow long enough to cover his ears. At times, he would dye them white or grey, though his co workers usually disapprove of it, and he has thus usually refrained from doing so. Much of the time, he seems to be grumpy as he will not smile at strangers, but this is only because of his Russian upbringing, and could be noted to be rather boisterous when in the company of friends and family. He dresses well, usually having a black or grey jacket over a t-shirt of a color of his choosing. He is slightly below average in terms of height, though he likes it that way.
Alexander wears a necklace with a silver cross around his neck all of the time, and often keeps a pair of black leather gloves on his hands. On his wrists are a pair of segmented platinum bracelets.
Psychology ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "What did I do to deserve this fate?"
MAIN GOAL ⫻ To be honest, Alexander is not sure what his goals are anymore. Sure, he does everything to help anyone that asks for his aid, but what does he want for himself? Maybe he'd like to finally find the love of his life.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Alexander is an honest man, one that will not hesitate the truth even if it hurts. He believes that lies will always continue to fester as long as they are kept, and the results of their unraveling will become worse and worse. In addition, he is rather sentimental, and has indomitable loyalty to friends and family. Alex is quite devout, and often does the sign of the cross when in distress.
Despite being unable to tell a white lie to make anyone else feel better, he does believe in comforting others in time of need, even if his ways are less on the talking side, and more on simple listening, and, well, touch.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Straight. Seeks for love but has always failed in it.
FEARS ⫻ Alexander fears clowns. And heights. Seriously, however, he fears that his nightmares of losing the function of his hands would come true, as his entire livelihood and career are built upon them. He also fears going deaf.
REPUTATION ⫻ As one of the first children to be sired by James Vanburen, Alexander commands some measure of respect from the rest of the family, at least from those that know he existed. He is known to spoil the younger ones with chocolates and candy, and is well liked. At least until he talks about how much he dislikes their father.
THOUGHTS ABOUT FATHER ⫻ The last time that Alexander has seen his father was when he was just ten years old, when James abandoned him and his mother for another of his uncountable affairs. Thus, they have a nonexistent relationship, having only come to the funeral just to see if the old man was really dead. He blames James for everything wrong with his life; his mother's drug addiction, his incapability of finding a girlfriend, and… well, everything.
FLAWS ⫻ Alexander is quite straightforward in both speech and thinking. As such, he usually won’t understand most idioms, and would go as far as break them by explaining how one cannot jump upon a gun. In addition, he is quite impulsive, and may end up in trouble because of it. He also has frequent bouts of depression, which holds him back from getting better at what he does, or just accepting that he is already good at things.
Backstory ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Oh, look. So many screwups."
Alexander Karamazov Vanburen was one of the first set of children that James Vanburen brought into existence. He was the child of a certain Svetlana Sergeyevna Karamazov, who met James while in a club. She was a Russian immigrant who had come to America right after the breakup of the Soviet Union, as the country had been thrown into civil and social unrest after the downfall of Communism. James’ charm was irresistible, and soon enough, she was pregnant. She gave birth to a boy, whom she named Alexander after her late father.
For all its worth, Alexander, most usually known by his Russian nickname of Sasha, knew James as his father. They had a decent dad-son relationship for the most part; it was nothing special, nor was there anything particularly terrible with it. That was, when James disappeared from their lives when Alexander was 10. He kept on asking where his dad went, only to be met with silence. Apparently, his mother did not know that she was not the first, or would she be the last. It didn’t take the boy long to realize that they had been abandoned, and over the years, he would grow to despise James Vanburen, going as far as using only his mother’s maiden surname in legal documents.
Since then, he would lead a mostly normal life in New York City, studying music in the university (it was in his high school days when he had those self defense classes). It was here that he found his passion for life; the keys of the piano, the strings of the violin, and the assembled voices of the choir. Eventually, he would become a professional musician, living an idyllic existence in a clean apartment. He was a violinist of the Chamber Orchestra of New York, the pianist of his church, and the owner of a YouTube channel that had garnered a moderate following of 120,000 subscribers. However, his mother had soon gone down the path of drug addiction. There was nothing more devastating for him than to see that the woman he loved the most go to rehab again and again. He blamed himself, as he hadn’t been a good son all these years, and then proceeded to blame James for leaving them. Then, she overdosed and died. This would be the driving force for Alexander to slide into a depressive state, though he was very good at hiding it from friends. After all, the pills that the psychiatrist had given him were doing their purpose well… for now.
Then he was informed by his half-siblings that their father was dead. Alexander had come to know that his father was one hell of a harem maker, and had met a few of his half brothers and sisters for some time before that. He had been on a lull of activity during that time; he had taken a few days of leave, and was just relaxing. He did not like his father at all, but he decided to come along anyway just to see if it was really true. It was.
For some reason, he was saddened by James’ passing, even if he told himself that he detested the old man. Sitting down on a couch with his anti-depressant pills on hand, he would find himself surrounded by shifting darkness, a cloud of black shrouding the entire room like a storm with no wind. Out of the shadows emerged a face; it was an Apparition. It fed upon sadness and guilt. It was a comforting presence, even if it was a dark entity, as it had good intentions. There and then, the Spectre promised one thing: he could see his mother again, and whenever he wanted. Ah, and he had this weird tattoo on his neck for some reason. Oh, no...
A year after the funeral, he found himself slowly being turned to stone, his movements beginning to slow down as his hands began to show signs of being turned to hard rock. Panicking, he spoke to the Spectre, asking what was happening to his body. The Apparition took a while to answer, but it concluded that the death of James Vanburen had triggered some kind of curse in everyone that bore his name, and the only solution was to stay in Araminta, or become a statue. Distraught that his father still screwed up other people's lives after death, Alexander hastily moved to Araminta, at which he found that the curse receded the closer he got to the city. He resigned from the New York Chamber Orchestra, instead opting to teach children and teenagers instruments. He didn't earn as much as before, and he had to live in the one place that reminded him of his father. Still, all of these were a small price to pay for not dying...
Abstraction ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Hello darkness, my old friend."
TYPE ⫻ Aberration (Affixed) ABSTRACTION ⫻ The Spectre; a ghost-like shadow that hangs around Alexander as a cloud of black and green. It seems to be nice...
ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ First and foremost, the Spectre allows Alexander to speak with the dead, summoning their ghosts from the afterlife in order for them to have a conversation. Secondly, it also allows him to become a ghost, granting him immunity against non-magic attacks and the ability to phase through solid objects. However, he is unable to breath while incorporeal, nor could he interact with the universe while in that state.
When Alexander is in a normal corporeal state, the Spectre also allows him to conjure a pair of chains made of magical metal, which are usually channeled through his bracelets. AURA SENSING ⫻ None
LIMITS ⫻ Alexander can only summon one spirit at a time, and can only do it once an hour. He can keep a ghost summoned for a short amount of time, probably for like one insightful conversation! Afterward, the ghost will go back to the other side - however, it's possible for certain spirits who don't necessarily want to come back to resist it. Alexander's immune to physical attacks while in his ghost state but other magical attacks can still damage him. He can maintain his ghost state as long as he can hold his breath.
WEAKNESSES ⫻ While in his ghost state he is susceptible to non-physical magical attacks such as fire and electricity.
Astrad gawked at their surroundings, his eyes being seemingly drawn by the flowers. To be fair, they looked beautiful... and smelled very nice too. He almost tumbled over as he hunched down to sniff at their sweet scent, though he quickly stood up after inhaling a fair share of pollen and sneezing. He chose to remain content in silence as Theresa Sparks asked the mystery lady who she was and where they were. But Astrad already had a good guess. It was probably Asgard.
Asgard... this would be absolutely wild if it really was the home planet of the aliens that his Viking ancestors saw coming down from the heavens through the rainbow bridge. But again, Thor and Loki had already made their mark on Earth, and of the two of them, only the latter likes to be worshipped, as evidenced by Loki's unruly behaviour in New York City. Either way, Astrad looked back at Amelia and shrugged, as even though he was a Swede, he wouldn't get any of the Old Norse that the mystery woman was speaking when they arrived.
Nathaniel De Costa
Location: Ellis Island, New York City
Nathaniel stepped out of the portal, hands in his pockets and head held up high. The man squinted at the warm sunlight, as he had been holed up in his house for the last few days due to being unassigned for the time being. He turned towards Captain America as his breach portal closed up behind him, leaving nought but a trace signature of quantum particle energy in its wake. Carefully, he took off the cigarette that he had been smoking, stashing the burnt remnants of the narcotic product into his leather jacket's pocket.
He looked at the assembled group, one by one. There were those members of the famous Avengers; Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton. Then there was the king of Wakanda, the Black Panther. Nathaniel was surprised that he was here, given that he was a king. Either way, there was this mysterious character with a metal arm, which had a red star on it. There were a bunch of others that he did not recognize. And as far as he could, he and Clint were the only SHIELD agents here... well, former agents, that is. The moment that they had disagreed with the registration of abilities, they had become fugitives. And while Nathaniel had the privilege of having intradimensional travel as a power of his, the rest of them did not. For all it's worth, this will be where the two sides will clash. This place was not exactly somewhere to hide in, after all.
One thing that bothered him, though was that there was a... girl in here. She looked really young. Too young to be in a crossfire. But surely, everyone was here by their own volition?
"Alright Cap.", Nathaniel said to their de facto leader. "If things go really down south, I guess I will portal us out."
Astrad hesitated for a bit as Sitwell had just confirmed that he was in a rather... tight situation in the Cube. Deciding to keep it short, he continued. "Uh, right, nevermind, then." For better or for worse, it was best not to distract his superior while in the middle of a firefight, though the coincidences were beginning to pile up. HYDRA was probably attacking the Cube right now, and did so right after the botched attempt at spycraft that was the mission in Levittown. Well...
"If I had to guess, the doors are magically sealed.", Astrad said to Amelia as he held out a hand to her to aid the Aussie woman in getting up from the pavement. I'm also guessing that if the Doctor wasn't worried, we shouldn't be... either.
The Swede's gaze had been averted away from Amelia, drawn by the glowing of Sparky's ring. It was getting brighter by the second, and Astrad had been led to believe that glowing objects probably were going to do something extraordinary in the next. "Any chance that the ring is also magical?", he asked no one in particular. "Oh well..."
It wasn't long after the whole near altercation with the damned Restarters that their merry troupe had been ushered into the vessel that had been waiting for them all this time. For all intents and purposes, it would serve as their mobile base of operations in their campaign of vengeance against the Ascendancy of Man, that corrupt institution that must be brought down to the ashes of history. It wasn't an all too special ship; it was officially a light freighter, though it was obviously more than just some tug boat cargo ship plowing the void. No. It will be the instrument of revenge!...
"Pfffft... limbed Kaisoken... ahahahaha... feck... Why am I laughing... ah, bloody hell."
Taking a brief second from snickering at sight of the second Kaisoken with limbs that he had seen during his entire life, Finbarr straightened himself as he introduced himself. "The name of this git standing in front of ye is Finbarr. Finbarr Callaghan. I be specializing in Timespace magic, especially them portals. I'm from Titan's undercity, and I love getting into them little vents."
Astrad coughed up a bit as the Doctor Strange simply kicked the four, no, three of them out into the streets of New York City. He had just closed them door on them right after doing what Sparks here had asked for him to do: to look for her husband, whose name was... Raynor... God of Light and Lies? And the dagger was forged by Eitri of Nidavellir, not to mention was wielded by Frigga, a goddess of Asgard? These were names that he had heard in grade school and from the bedtime stories of his grandparents. Astrad was, after all, Scandinavian, and was no doubt rather familiar with the stories that his people had passed down from generation to generation. Now that Thor himself had come down to be a member of the Avengers, it was clear that the gods that his ancestors worshipped during their days as Vikings were no more than aliens that descended from the skies through the rainbow bridge. Amelia would find him mildly intrigued by the fact that her friend was married to an Asgardian, though not at all shocked or surprised.
"So there's that.", Astrad shrugged whilst pulling out his statphone. "I'm just going to... go and make a call."
Hurriedly, the Swede searched for Agent Sitwell on his contacts, seeking to inform his superior that the mission to capture the twins was botched and that all of Levittown was a festering cesspit filled with HYDRA agents. In a few moments, the phone was ringing; Sitwell better pick this call up...
Astrad looked back at Amelia while the ringtone rang. "Your friend was probably taken to another dimension by the cube she touched. The good doctor said it himself... Mojoverse, was it? Hm. How'd you three ended up together anyway?"
adjick stood his ground as the knight chopped off the energy whips that he had sent forth against him. Unwilling to give up the fight so soon, Madjick had all the hands switch to a fiery crimson color as the elder knight began his charge. He would not reveal his Duality move, no, not yet. That would serve as a trump card if the bloodied knight refuses to give up the fight. Instead, four of the six hands that he had summoned moved to block the assailant's attack path with focused heat beams; if any of those struck, they would do little actual harm, but rather, they would knock him back a few good meters away. If none met their mark, the other two that were being kept in reserve will fire a withering barrage of hardlight bullets. Madjick had no intention to kill the other, only to bring him in…
Jeremiah Powell - Void Dragon
Whilst Lance had been watching the whole debacle that was happening below with much amusement, something was stirring within the shadows. A reptilian hiss could be heard in the midnight air as a pair of clawed hands materialized from the darkness on the rooftop; a hiss that would be an all too familiar sound to those that had faced the leviathan that stalked the night of Manchester. It was the growl of the Void Dragon; a boogeyman of the dark that sought for prey at midnight, intending to feast upon a hand or two. Or to merely cause fear and mayhem. Either way, as Lance watched the fight, the Void Dragon let out an animalistic scream as it lounged towards her from behind...
Member
Aku the Samurai
Snowdrops
Danyel
Damo021
BlackMaiden
Sep
Dyelli Beybi
Eviledd1984
Half Pint
Mixtape Ghost N
