Vertigo

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

<Snipped quote by Vertigo>

A rogue without a sleight of hand proficiency. That's going to be interesting xD

But yeah, nah, she's only been able to get a couple of pretty cheap, useless baubles.

... I am mildly tempted to have her roll on one of the trinket tables just for funzies.

@XxFellsingxX

That was definitely an oversight on my part rather than a conscious, bold decision 😂 I guess it does kind of make sense for her, at least. She's too excited to get her grabby hands on stuff not to fumble and drop the said stuff immediately.

She will treasure those useless baubles!

I am ready and itchin' to roll for a trinket whenever jsyk. Think of the funzies.

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

Abel Wyatt

Abel James Wyatt

34 | M | 7th November | 6'1'' | 178lbs

( Daughter: Isabella Astel | 4 | F )

Personality: Though once best described as impulsive and indulgent, Abel has thankfully mellowed out quite a bit over the years — recent years, in particular. Ironically enough, given his general appearance and the way he tends to conduct himself, many tend to mistake him for someone much older than he actually is. He certainly would describe himself as an old man, weary and tired from mistakes past and desperate to build something for himself. To his credit, he has somewhat managed to turn a new leaf over the past year or so, and things are looking up for him for the first time in forever. Now, he's holding onto that change white-knuckled, determined not to let go. He's figured himself out enough to know when he's about to do something stupid for the most part, and has worked to build replacement habits and ways to distract himself. Routine is his friend and savior, and to this day, he doesn't deal well with surprises.

As far as first impressions go, the Abel of today is outwardly a calm and collected man, who tries his best to think before he acts or speaks, even if it means several awkward moments spent in silent contemplation. He has a sense of humour, always has, though it's gotten quite self-deprecating as of late. He considers that a good thing; he used to get very worked up when insulted, feeling his pride was wounded, but nowadays he welcomes slights and laughs along. There are worse things in life than being insulted, he would know. He's curious about technology in particular, and loves a chance to fix or build something with his hands; it's cathartic as hell.

However, it should be noted that while he somewhat has himself under control on a normal day, he hasn't been under extreme duress for a while, and fears he might resort to his old ways if push came to shove. Impulsivity is still part of him, after all. And while he hasn't been with his daughter for all that long, he knows he already feels protective enough over her that it startles him at times. And while getting violent to protect someone is quite different from getting violent to prove a point or while giving in to anger, it's not many steps removed, and he'd rather not go down that path at all, anymore.

All in all, he might not be a good person, but he is trying to be a better one, at least.

Phobias/Fears: Hurting people he cares about, alcohol relapse, losing control, growing old, ommetaphobia (specifically injury to/touching of eyes in general, and the feeling of being watched), being alone with his thoughts

History: If you were to ask Abel about his life so far, he'd describe it as one bad decision after another, starting from his choice of friends in high school all the way to a poor investment decision earlier this very year. He's always been the type of person to follow his urges and live in the moment, with little regard for his future — and, now that he's living in said future, he wishes he could go back and start over.

Abel's teenage years and early adulthood were marked by many vices, but while some he could leave behind over the years, alcohol always stuck with him in particular. It was what he turned to whenever life was too tough, even though he hated who he became while under the influence. It took what little inhibitions he had, and that led to many a fight with strangers and friends alike. Even sending a friend to the hospital — or being sent there in turn by an armed bar patron he didn't even know — didn't quite manage to make him quit.

Things weren't much calmer back home. In his mid twenties, he got into a long time relationship with a girl called Janette, who shared his short temper. Shouting matches were had, furniture was broken, and they seemed all around like bouncing boards for each others' bad habits, contributing to a common downward spiral.

That was, until Janette got pregnant. Abel wishes he could claim his first reaction upon hearing the news was positive, but truth is, he was terrified. He didn't feel ready for the responsibility, and he assumed Jane didn't, either. Turned out he was wrong; while he was shaking in his boots, Jane put her life in order. She stepped up to become a mother for a child neither of them had meant to have, and watching her, Abel eventually swore to man up and do the same. And indeed, for a while, as they waited for their daughter's birth, things were stable, at the very least. They were building something; a home, a life, a family. Abel felt ready.

He was not ready. The sleepless nights, the stress, the financial distress, it all overwhelmed him in no time at all — and so, he turned back to old vices. Namely, the bottle. And, realizing what sort of person he might once again become as a result, he left before his daughter's first birthday, figuring it would be better for the two. His presence would add little to their family but volatility and, god forbid, danger. It was one of the hardest decisions he made, and to this day he's unsure if it was also the worst, or the best. He didn't get to see Isabella grow up. She didn't have to see her deadbeat of a father mess up her life.

Even when Abel finally managed to fight his way into sobriety again, jolted by the realization that he was getting older by the day and should've been able to leave the insanity of his twenties behind if he ever wanted to make something out of his life, he didn't dare contact his previous family again.

Until a few months ago.

Abel received a call that Jane had been in an accident, and though her condition was stable, caring for a toddler on her own would be extremely difficult. If Abel ever wanted a second chance at being a father, now was the time, and he'd better not fuck it up, was the gist of what he was told.

And so, he made what he hoped was a good decision, and decided to try.

Skills:

Physical prowess | Whenever Abel has managed to hold a job for any substantial amount of time, it's always been physical. Mostly construction, but he hasn't exactly been picky. That, along with his naturally large frame, means he's well suited for physical challenges.

Technology / IT | Abel knows his way around technology, and becoming a software developer is a longtime dream of his. He's never actually worked a job in IT before, but he's dabbled on his own time. It's one of the few things that has managed to hold his interest and keep his mind from wandering to unpleasant things.

Fighter | While he's certainly not proud of it, Abel's been in his fair share of fights, and usually come out on top. He'd... rather not go back to that sort of thing anymore, but he hasn't quite managed to shake off the reflexes or the paranoia, and does carry a knife with him to this day. Just in case.

In addition, while not exactly a skill, Abel absolutely loves dogs, and though one would be forgiven for assuming otherwise, they generally tend to like (and listen to) him too. No, he doesn't feel like he deserves it either.

Inventory:

↦ Lighter (but notably, no cigarettes to accompany it; progress)
↦ wallet (with his id, a picture of his daughter, some cash and a few stamp cards)
↦ doggy treats (a must, just in case)
↦ pack of nicotine gum
↦ a pack of regular gum too, in fact
↦ switchblade
↦ car keys
↦ cellphone
↦ water bottle

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

@Vertigo Are you ready for a post, dear? I'm getting my stuffie post ready for you. <3 I should have it up in a day or so.

@Lexisheeps

I'll get my initial post up tomorrow morning, so anytime after that, I'm game!

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

<Snipped quote by Vertigo>

Sure, go ahead! Don't forget to put your CS in the Character tab before you put up your post, however.

@XxFellsingxX

Will do! Also, she's probably not managed much with a 7, ha. This is also when I realize I didn't actually-- give her a sleight of hand proficiency.

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

Finally writing that post, I've just the way to insert Garnet into her group! Any chance I could roll for a sleight of hand in advance to see what she's managed to, ahem, indefinitely borrow from the Bazaar so far, though?

Symphony on High

💀

20 | Female | Maverick Alternative | So(ME)thing On Your Mind
Kiss & Make Up | Handgun | Physical | We Are But Dust and Shadow
Hellspawn | Streetside Devil
Friends on the Other Side | Shadow | Abyssus Abyssum Invocat
[Obfuscate, Intangible] Damage X (6), Restrain (4), Blink (4), Minor Heal (2), Summon (4), Enhance (2), Powerful (0), Homing (2), Avoid (2), AoE (2), Bend (0), Construction (4)

DAMAGE: B | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: E | 1000

PHYSICAL: D | ARCANE: D | CHAOS: E | 12

What fired at them first was not whatever the GEMINI psycho was charging. It was a stream of childish toys and treats that turned into a barrier, glistening in the sky like a rainbow, courtesy of... that one cosplaying freak. An attempt to distract them?

The light at the end of the Esper's wand collapsed.

Two.

A beam blasted towards them, visible one moment, already past them the next. Ciri expected to hear an explosion somewhere further away, braced herself for dust and debris.

She didn't expect an impact right behind her.

One.

It burned.

A scream tore from Ciri's throat. It started as pained, but by the time her lungs had emptied of air and the realization of what happened had struck her, the scream had turned into an outlet for her anger. She screamed because she couldn't find the words.

The dragon. The goddamn stupid, careless fucking dragon, did it not have the sense to lower its dumb, empty head when shot at?!

Zero. Wherever Amanda was, she was on her own.

Ciri fell, but not long enough to panic. She'd barely registered the wind on her face, the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and the approaching concrete, when a familiar, soothing darkness wrapped around her.

The impact with the ground wasn't as bad as she'd expected, hard as it was. Maybe whatever she should've felt had been buried under the burning pain in her back, or stolen away by adrenaline, or cushioned by It, wrapped around her in a formless mass of shadow. All the same. All Ciri knew was that she was alive and hurting, and that meant she was going to make the GEMINI bitches hurt ten times worse.

They hadn't even meant to do this to her. They'd meant it for the girl. They'd meant it for a crying, scared teenager that hadn't even raised a finger against them.

There were only two monsters in Dante's diner tonight, and neither of them sprouted horns, scales, or fur.

A roar shook the very ground Ciri was struggling to stand on, and she didn't have to look for its source for long. Even with her mind hazy and vision swimming, Boteg was impossible to miss. He stood taller than the buildings around him, and as he prepared to breathe death upon the GEMINI, Ciri wished she had the oxygen left to cheer him on.

And then It ruined it all.

"Wh-what the fuck? Why are you--" Flabbergasted, she started trashing to get out Its grasp, but she had no strength left to try and fight shadows that could change their form, giving way where she pushed, then gathering back around her. She clawed at her partner, desperate, as if trying to find whatever part of Its form was responsible for communication, so she could rip it out and silence It. "Don't! Don't!"

More suffering!? Good, that's what she wanted! They'd suffered, the GEMINI bitches had not, how was that fair!? She didn't care if all of them lived, as long as the two monsters died.

It didn't listen, and so neither did the dragon. With one final display of power Boteg could have used to turn their enemies into statues, they fled, and Ciri screamed again. But this time, it wasn't out of pain.

Physical, anyway.

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

Won't be able to get to the sheet until Saturday, but it should be a quick write, so feel free to start before then anyway!

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

Hmm, a deadbeat dad who finally tries to take some responsibility, only to lose his child at the daycare right after? I'm in.

Symphony on High

💀

20 | Female | Maverick Alternative | So(ME)thing On Your Mind
Kiss & Make Up | Handgun | Physical | We Are But Dust and Shadow
Hellspawn | Streetside Devil
Friends on the Other Side | Shadow | Abyssus Abyssum Invocat
[Obfuscate, Intangible] Damage X (6), Restrain (4), Blink (4), Minor Heal (2), Summon (4), Enhance (2), Powerful (0), Homing (2), Avoid (2), AoE (2), Bend (0), Construction (4)

[Bronze Touch][Intangible] = -32

DAMAGE: B | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: E | 1000

PHYSICAL: D | ARCANE: D | CHAOS: E | 12

The Dumpster Lizard did not, in fact, run away this time.

No, he intended to fly.

As if hearing Ciri's dismissive thoughts, the dude's entire body started to expand and stretch, until the tuxedo-wearing shithead was entirely replaced by an actual fucking dragon.

Sure, Ciri had heard he could turn into one during the mission briefing, but actually witnessing it in person, especially after seeing what a pissbaby he'd been, was... cathartic. Maybe there was a point to all this shit, after all.

But only if she got his ass out alive.

"I have a fucking name!" Ciri shouted with exhausted frustration, with no intention of actually giving her name to the dragon, and no time to do so either; as her partner whisked her up next to the girl and Ciri's gaze readjusted to the diner, she saw movement. And it wasn't her shadows.

It was the fucking Knight of No Tomorrows, in the flesh. Flesh that hadn't even been scratched. What were her shadow creatures doing? Ugh, good help was so difficult to find these d—

The GEMINI bitch pointed her wand at them, and Ciri's frustration gave way to vigilance. It was no secret what her intentions were. Ciri could see, could hear the magic gathering around the tip. And the bitch wasn't looking at her.

Ciri hurriedly reached for the grieving girl's wrist. She didn't have much left in her; in her anger, she'd expended most of her mana in an attempt to prevent this kind of shit from happening in the first place. But she could still do one thing. The girl would just have to fucking let her, because she didn't have the power left to pierce her defenses by force.

"Trust me," and then, for the first time in her life: "Please."

Two seconds. As the beam fired. That should be enough.

She squeezed the girl's wrist, hard, nails digging into skin, until hopefully, her hand — along with the attack coming their way — would just pass right through the intangible Amanda. A temporary ghost, so she would not permanently turn into one; a shadow, beyond any light's reach.

Rip to whatever was behind all of them, though.

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

I've never actually posted in the OOC here, oops! But heyo everyone, I'm the dumbass that's been meaning to post for ages, hoping to do it soon once I'm back from a con.