TheWizardLizard

Myth [Still Accepting!]

@Holy Soldier Would you prefer that I wait for another post to see what happens with the Overseers, or should I start working on a Poe post now?

Malfunction -- The RP Where Having Superpowers Sucks

Should... should I do a second character? I don't really have an idea for one, but I'm starting to feel a little outgunned. :P

Maybe I'll meditate on it.

Malfunction -- The RP Where Having Superpowers Sucks

So... Tiny Tina, Lucio, That Creepypasta Webcomic I Saw On Imgur That One Time, and... alright, wood-girl has me stumped.

Get it? Stumped? Wood?

I kid, though. It's an impressive roster so far, I look forward to playing with (and crashing into) them all.

Malfunction -- The RP Where Having Superpowers Sucks

April Cooper

April Cooper | 18 | Female

Appearance:

April is a short, thin, and generally disheveled young girl. Almost always seen wearing some manner of jeans and a sweatshirt slightly too large for her, everything about her appearance indicates a girl who doesn't really care how she looks, at least not enough to put undue effort into it. She has long black hair that she'll usually tie up into a pony tail, though if she's in a hurry she's not above leaving it where it is. She pretty much never wears makeup, not out of any particular dislike or objection but because she never has a reason to.

At 5'5, April isn't the tallest girl in Freak Camp, and she has a generally skinny build to match her height. It's also noticeable that her entire body is almost constantly covered in bruises, big and small - it's a rare sight to glimpse her without at least one black eye, and she's constantly sporting a new set of glasses that already are covered in cracks and fractures. Overall (aside from the damage), April is a sort of plain, sort of pretty young girl who has never bothered to clean up for anyone a day in her life.

Powers:

FRICTIONLESS: April has the power to disable the effects of friction on her entire body, causing her to be governed almost entirely by inertia and enabling a mode of transportation that looks somewhat like totally out of control skiing. This isn't to be confused with intangibility - she can't pass through solid objects, she just doesn't slow down as she moves by them. Skintight clothes she wears such as t-shirts or skinny jeans also lose friction, though anything baggy does not.

Weaknesses/Limitations:

(1): Out of Control April has very poor control over her power, and is prone to activating it without meaning to, causing her to drop what she's holding, cannonball into a wall, or slip and crash to the floor. Added to that, it's also very hard for her to control her movements when she's in 'frictionless mode', as she can't really touch anything that would help her steer. It would be possible for her to dip in and out of being frictionless so she could turn without losing speed, but with her level of control, that's pretty much out of the question.

(2): Breakable April is, physically, a normal 18 year old girl. This means she is very prone to being injured when moving at high speeds and crashing into things, hence why her face and body are so constantly bruised and damaged.

(3): Gravity/Wind April is immune to friction, not gravity, which means her power of 'turning into an inertia-fueled human cannonball' doesn't really work uphill and travelling up is a major drain on her momentum. Likewise, she's not immune to the force of wind pushing in her face, which will also slow her down, though not as much as it might a normal person because the air moving around her generates no friction.

Personality:

April is, fundamentally, an introverted, sarcastic girl with a love of computers and a deep fear of her own destructive power. Though she very much enjoys taking the piss out of others, especially those she perceives as behaving stupidly or incompetently, this isn't born from any real malice or rudeness, and she'll just as quickly laugh with someone as at them. She enjoys being on her own when possible, though she's not incapable of making friends.

Ever since she passed the Test, however, there's been a small part of her consumed by a fear of what she's become, which isn't helped at all by the fact that she is constantly hurting herself. She tends to flinch at loud noises, as being startled can cause her to activate her powers, which combined leads to the fact that her nerves are basically shot. She approaches mundane tasks with the utmost care, well aware that a mistake on her part could lead to something breaking and someone (probably her) getting injured. Again.

Backstory:

April had a cozy suburban life in District 3 as the child of local officials of the NWO. Although her world was troubled, none of those troubles ever reached into her home, and she was denied very little growing up. From a young age, she excelled in school, particularly in the more rigorous disciplines of math and science. She was never the most popular kid in school, but she had all the friends she wanted, and she was set to go on to study Computer Science at one of the finest schools in the world. April had been lucky, but that luck ran out two days before the Test.

When her powers manifested, she fell down the stairs, broke her arm crashing into a wall, fell to the floor and lay there for two hours screaming for help, unable to turn her powers off so that she could get enough purchase on the ground to rise. Two days later she tested positive, and was shipped off to freak camp for her new life to begin.

Talents/Skills:

(1): Computer Whizz April's very good with computers and coding, and probably could have made a future out of that if she wasn't a human pinball of destruction.
(2): Musician April's a pretty decent guitar player, and tried to learn to play piano once, with limited success.
(3): Writer April's actually a pretty decent writer, though she never translated that into anything other than writing fanfiction about TV show characters.

Quirks/Habits/Other:

April's allergic to peanuts, needs to wear glasses in order to see, and used to play a Level 100 Blood Elf Paladin.

TL/DR:

A nerdy girl who can turn off friction and move really fast, which mainly translates to injuring herself and breaking things. A lot.

Malfunction -- The RP Where Having Superpowers Sucks

Hey, I was loosely following this interest check and it seemed interesting. Are you still accepting character applications? S'cool if you're not, of course, it seemed like there was quite a buzz in that thread. My idea was for a character who had the power to 'turn off' friction from her body, but who could barely control it and was, as such, a walking disaster area cannon-balling into things all the time.

Jormungand: No Man's Land

Name: Emily Gerhman
Age: 26
Callsign: Long Nine
Nationality: England

Specialty: Scout-Sniper
History:
Born in London as the child of English ambassadors, Emily was groomed for a life of service to her nation from a young age. Her parents were veterans of the tense diplomacy of the Cold War, and both of them still served as liasons and diplomats to various Eastern European nations. Emily spent her early life in compounds all across the ex - Soviet Union, receiving the best care and education she possibly could have. She was intelligent, but couldn't muster an enormous amount of energy towards academics, and though her parents dreamed of her taking up a life of statecraft as they had, she wasn't so certain.

The decision was made up for her, tragically, by her mother's death when she was sixteen years old. It was never clear who'd done it, some violent anti-west group who never finished fighting the Cold War most likely. The sniper who shot her mother through the head on the side of the street had committed suicide before he could be apprehended.

Tensions were rising and ambassadors were recalled all across Europe, and Emily enlisted in the military without really knowing why - perhaps it was for revenge, or some desire to be useful in this increasingly chaotic world. Showing talent that surprised everyone (herself most of all), she ascended through the ranks quickly, being sent to an S.A.S training program and showing enormous proficiency as a marksman and solo recon soldier, able to hide, survive, and eliminate targets while isolated from her squadron.

For four years she fought dutifully in every hellhole she was sent to, following her orders to the letter with efficiency, ingenuity, and no particular enthusiasm. Finally, her squad was sent to Georgia, by now a failed state being torn apart by various local militias, one of which had taken up residence in the recently abandoned British embassy - one of those that Emily had grown up in. They were tasked with infiltrating the compound, securing any important British intelligence, and eliminating all hostiles.

The mission was a botch from the start. Someone had tipped the militia off about the Brit's arrival and the squad walked straight into a trap and was immediately shot to pieces. The sole survivor was Emily, who had gone off on her own to survey the compound and set up her rifle to cover the squad's advance. She fired on the men who had ambushed her squad, attempting to pin them so that the others could escape, but to no avail - she was forced to abort mission and evacuated the country, leaving the bodies of her squad where they lay.

With her unit destroyed, she was transferred to some new multinational peacekeeping organization - Jormungandr. Ostensibly she was sent because she was the best of the best, but part of Emily couldn't help but wonder if someone in the S.A.S stood to gain by removing the sole survivor of the doomed operation.

Personality:

Dispassionate. That's probably the best word to describe Emily Gehrman, both on and off the battlefield. She gives the distinct appearance of being unable to work up the energy to care too much about... anything, really. She's prone to sarcasm, cynical observations and sardonic wit, though she's not really mean-spirited, and she'll just as quickly chuckle alongside someone as she will at their expense. She's almost chronically bored, even in combat situations, and is prone to occasionally strange behavior (excessive 'trick shots', 'pranking' foes, leaving sarcastic graffiti for them to see) for little reason other than the fact that it amused her.

Emily is almost disturbingly comfortable with violence, to a degree that's alarmed several psych workers assigned to monitor her. She sees little horror in the deaths of her enemies and feels no guilt whatsoever in the taking of lives, though she's still capable of mourning the loss of her friends. Emily's not a completely emotionless sociopath by any means - she's capable of making friends and caring about them, though it doesn't happen quickly, especially not after the deaths of her squad of many years.

Preferred choice of weaponry:



MR 187 - A 50. caliber light semiauto sniper rifle developed in Italy, popular for its practicality and its well-made nature. Though its attachments are limited to a silencer, a scope, and a set of three barrels for range adjustment, it's renowned among scout snipers for its reliability - in the famous words of some astute soldier whose name has been lost to time, "Drop it in the mud, doesn't jam. Drag it through sand, doesn't jam. Mr. 187 is there for me more than my fuckin' wife."


OS 22, 'Oh Shit' - The standard issue backup weapon for the Modern S.A.S sniper, the 'Oh Shit' pistol (so named because of its use in stressful combat situations) is a 10mm pistol designed for rapid fire in close quarters with minimal recoil, to be used exclusively in combat situations where 'Mr. 187''s bulk makes the use of the more powerful rifle impractical.

Jormungand: No Man's Land

If I may make a suggestion, if you want more CS's to come in, it might be worth making a main thread for this - those tend to get seen more than interest checks.

Myth [Still Accepting!]

Post up. I've named the night owl Overseer, and also established him as being the other one in the room with Gilles De Rais. Also, did you know that ravens can mimic voices pretty well? I actually didn't when I came up with this character, but damn that is useful to know.

Oh, and @AdobeFlash, don't feel like you've got to wait on Edgar to come find Bram or anything - Edgar's going to go looking for him, but they can run into each other when they run into each other.

Myth [Still Accepting!]

Name: Edgar Allen Poe
Occupation: Librarian/Birdkeeper
Time/Date: Day One, Evening
Location: The cellar underneath the dining room.
Tagging: Arthur, Leo, Bram

Edgar sat in complete darkness, perched atop a massive cask that he had managed to laboriously scramble up with the help of a few other barrels as stepping stones, his ear pressed to the ceiling above him. The masonry was solid, and to anyone else the several feet of stone would have completely stopped any attempt at spying on the dining hall above. But Edgar wasn't anyone else.

There were seven hearts beating in the room above him, two of which he was able to recognize. One was Edgar's master, Crassus, and right nearby was his fellow slave Arthur - obviously, Crassus was keeping his favorite pet close to him, as always. Edgar didn't recognize the other guests, but from the position of the heartbeats he could roughly guess that three of them were dining with his master, and the remaining two were flanking one of the dinner guests.

That was a disappointment, to say the least. He didn't really care about whatever was going on at the banquet, truth be told - no, he'd snuck down to the cellar to spy on these proceedings for an entirely different reason. There was a mystery afoot in the manor, and if he'd never accomplish anything else in his wretched existence, Edgar would get to the bottom of it.

The mystery swirled around the nature of the most feared overseer in the Manor - Ivan Vasilyevich. Every slave in the manor knew better than to cross him, lest they 'disappear' in the night, never to be seen again. He was only seen at night, and what was most puzzling of all, Edgar had never heard his heartbeat. The young slave had supposed that maybe he had some way of masking it that had something to do with his penchant for high society, but the abundance of heartbeats in the room above seemed to belie that. Well, it had been a weak theory.

Whatever he was, he was a violent, fearful man, and Edgar had already made peace with the fact that he would never be punished for that - he had power and his victims didn't, and that was how the world worked. But even so, he had to know.

Something was happening up above. Two new heartbeats entered the room, one of which belonged to Overseer Gilles De Rais, the other to Leonidas, the enslaved pit fighter Edgar bunked opposite from in the slave's quarters. His heartbeat began to move erratically, as did one of the stranger's, both of them elevating and pounding with adrenaline. Clearly, his Master had found some use for a pugilist.

Gradually, Leon's heartbeat slowed, the gradual thumping of slumber. The poor boy had, evidently, met his match at last - such was life. Edgar reached into his ragged tunic and produced a matchbox he'd managed to swipe from one of the Overseers, striking a match and climbing down from his perch. It was a pale, flickering light, but it was enough for Edgar to see by, at least enough to be able to walk.

He was just creeping over to the stairs back to the servant's corners, prepared to chalk this night up as a defeat, when he heard the flutter of wings from behind him. His longtime friend and companion Usher set down on his shoulder and cooed into his ear, head tilting quizzically. Edgar had sent the bird to the kitchens, hoping that he might see or hear something pertaining to Overseer Vasilyevich, who often seemed to frequent the kitchens at this hour. "Usher," he whispered, "Did you hear anything?"

The raven opened his mouth and from it issued a rough approximation of Overseer De Rais' voice, “Wait… we’re not taking him there.”
The bird paused, and then changed tone to a burlier, deeper growl. Vasilyevich's voice. “What do you mean? Lord Crassus ordered us-”

De Rais again. “I know what he ordered, but I haven’t fed Corpseeater in a while.”

Vasilyevich. “If Lord Crassus finds out that you didn’t-”

De Rais. “Hush, he won’t find out. We will say that the boy’s wounds were so severe that he succumbed to them. Now come, there’s a place in the cellar where we will take him.”

Edgar furrowed his brow and patted the raven on the head. "Good bird. Curious..." A smirk became affixed on the boy's face. "Well now, Usher, you know I'm not overly attached to living in this world, but we shouldn't investigate alone... what do you suppose Bram is up to at this hour?"

The satisfaction of a mystery - what else could a young slave hope for, living in a world as wretched as this one?

Jormungand: No Man's Land

Well guys, we only need someone with a shotgun and we'll have a fully functional X-COM squad.