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Firemind
Guest
Original poster
A place to test coding, work on Character sheets, and otherwise fiddle around until I know what I'm doing.
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Firemind
Guest
Original poster
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Firemind
Guest
Original poster
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Firemind
Guest
Original poster
[fieldbox="Alexander Queen//Faceless, Purple, solid"]
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Full Name
Alexander Michael Queen, aka 'Faceless'
Age
23, born August 29th
Gender
MaleOccupation
Work-at-home Editor for several online publications: Including a Weekly Sports Newsletter, several journals and editorials, a University Monthly, and an anonymously edited Pro-Mutant magazine.Role
Vigilante
Height
Listed as 6'1Weight
Listed as 146 lbsDescription (Face Claim: Lon'qu, from Fire Emblem Awakening.)
Alexander Michael Queen looks like a pretty average guy. He is handsome in a pretty unexciting kind of way; with average height and average build, skinny arms, and medium length hair that is black, unkempt, and effortless. His eyes are brown, and he wears comfortable clothing that befits his stay-at-home persona. He doesn't have many distinguishing marks; no obvious scars, or tattoos, or burns. On his back though, there are what can only be described as quite horrific wounds that form a knotted belt buckle wound near his left shoulder blade.
Of course, this is only the way Alex presents himself on the day-to-day. His appearance is especially difficult to document because of his strange power set, and should police or any form of social services look for him, it is the above appearance he would put on.
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Biography
Born in Central Metro as the only child of a loving, Pro-Metahuman University professor for a mother, and a decent, hard-working Biologist of a father, Alexander did better than most when it came to growing up as a mutant. His mother was a pretty strong activist for better Metahuman rights, and seemed to make headway from time to time, featuring in newspapers and on talk shows. While her waves were always short lived, they seemed to very slowly making a better showing of Metahuman support in her area. This had Alex growing up pretty proud of his mother, and even being pretty openly accepting of his gifts. He of course had to toe the line of restraint and model citizenship, but he had no doubt his super-mother would some day make things better.
Things started to change when he was in his early teens though. The changes to his father were slow at first. He began working for strange companies at unusual hours, and his behaviour became more erratic and aggressive. He was slowly shifting from decent human being to aggressive and tempestuous. Within a year or so, his father turned abusive against Alex. He was blamed for the father's inability to rise up in his field, and for being overshadowed by his wife. The beatings escalated quickly, but he kept them a secret from his wife until Alexander was hospitalised after a particularly brutal beating with a belt, scarring him for life. His mother divorced the man-that-was-once her husband, and left with Alex. Things took a turn for the worse though, when a psychotically deranged father came to try and kill them both. He succeeded in killing Alex's mother, but the teenager managed to fight off the murderous psychotic, and beat him to a pulp before the police arrived. The father was arrested and jailed for life, claiming throughout that he had no memory of anything he'd done, and that he only listened to the whispers. That left Alexander; only fifteen at the time, completely alone with a decent inheritance and no family left to help him.
He went to University after a few run-ins with the law, and eventually graduated with honours. He decided to work at home as an editor, and was content enough until he heard a woman being beaten by her husband. Unable to stomach it, he changed his face, and broke into the house, beating the man down and calling the police before disappearing into the night. It was such a wild rush, and from there; Faceless was born. He's slowly honed his craft in private, dealing with small scale crimes and becoming more subtle and careful. Now, he plans to move onto bigger, more exciting things as a Vigilante, and be a force for good despite what he's told by others in society.
Personality
Outwardly, Alex is a smarmy, easy-going smart-ass who seems to take nothing seriously. He's just as likely to insult you for a joke as he is to shrug off what you say with an ineffectual 'eh'. Inwardly, he's a lonely, bored, frustrated man who pushes people away for safety and for comfort. -
Alter Ego Appearance
Faceless is pretty unique when it comes to Vigilantes in that he doesn't have a 'signature face'. Most of the time, he takes on the appearance of a Bandanna-wearing punk, but considering how quickly he can change his body, face, and even sex, it's difficult to pin him down. Instead, he leaves a calling card to make sure people know just which Vigilante did whatever deed he completed.
Powerset
Body Sculptor: Alex is able to alter his physiology on the surface level, tinkering his appearance and body type in a variety of interesting ways. He can make himself taller or shorter, more handsome or hideously ugly, and even into a woman for a time. Unknown to MetaHuman Monitering Services, Alex has been experimenting with more...unnatural forms of body manipulation. Much like a sculptor who first experiments with abstract art, Alex has began to test ways of transfiguring his body in practical-but-unnatural ways: Creating layers of extra, dead skin over his fingers so that he can handle extremely hot or cold objects without hurting himself; covering his mouth and nose so that he can stop inhaling smoke; experimenting with gills and webbing of feet to improve his swimming (Although so far, the latter has been far more usable while the former was a floundering failure), and perhaps most impressively, shifting calcium and creating small boney protrusions over his fingertips. These bony protrusions, only an inch or so long, are usable like a cat's claws for mauling things, or gouging into mortar and scaling walls.
This all sounds very impressive, and Alex is undeniably happy about the potential of his powers and all, but like all MetaHuman abilities, there are weaknesses. The main weakness is a major ticking timebomb: using his power burns through energy at a hyper accelerated rate. Most average humans burn through about 2500-to-3000 calories a day just by existing. Alex, even without changing his appearance, requires double that to sustain basic body functionality. Using his powers for cosmetic changes will bump that up to triple the standard calorific consumption, and using his powers to do anything unnatural has him burning through tens-of-thousands of calories to sustain himself. Not only is this a detriment to his long-term health, but it leaves him working in very tight frames of time. If he's forced to use his powers excessively, for long periods of time, he might literally collapse from lack of energy. If he isn't able to plan ahead and eat his fill of food, being forced to do anything exotic or unnatural could sap him to the point of killing him. On top of that major weakness, unnatural body transformations are painful as a general rule of thumb, and while he can manipulate the resource of his body, he can't work miracles. Bone claws might cut through chain link fences, or gouge into shoddy brickwork, but bones still break if they are exposed to shock or sudden impact. He can't magically survive gunshots, or take blows from Baseball bats. He is only as strong as the average MetaHuman, after all.
The other major weakness of Alex's body manipulation is that for reasons he hasn't yet managed to fully fathom, his body reacts incredibly poorly to electrical currents. Several MetaHuman physicians theorise it has something to do with the EVOGene altering the synapses between his cells so as to allow his thoughts to communicate the changes he wants to make; thus making his entire body more susceptible to electrical currents causing total shut down. While this might not seem to bad in the day-to-day, it means that just general static electricity will have him yelping in severe pain. Anything from an Average Joe security guard's stun baton and above will completely shut down Alex's body, knocking him out for hours and maybe even more. Not ideal for a Vigilante.
Gear
The main tools Faceless carries with him are changes of clothes. He is always seen carrying a cheap, disposable backpack which, kept secret from onlookers, contains at least three different outfits, and a pair of rubber gloves, as well as an energy drink or two. Unbenownst to most however is the fact he wears a fourth change of clothes underneath whatever he is wearing at the time; so he can rip off his main attire for a quick getaway in a crowd. When leaving his mark on a scene, Faceless leaves a seemingly blank white card. The little piece of card is holographic, revealing a plain masked face when held up to the light at the right angle. To keep from forming a paper trail, he makes these himself using an amateur kit.
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Facts
- Alexander is a doting son, visiting his mother's grave at least once a week. He hasn't visited his father in seven years though, and openly says he would piss on his grave if he were dead.
- As much by necessity as by design, Alexander is a fantastic cook.
- Alex struggles to really find people attractive, as his ability to change his appearance and such makes it difficult to enjoy aesthetics. This sometimes leaves him frustrated, lovesick, or just a little on edge around couples.
- Alex knows a little bit of martial arts, but he's hardly much more than an above-average street thug who has a Metahuman's strength, agility, and reflexes to go off of.
- Alex hates cars, because they have a habit of gathering static electricity. He walks as much as he can, but uses public transport to get around mostly.
- When he was Seventeen, Alex was nearly convinced to venture down a life of crime. He would have been real fucking good at it too.
- Alex has an absolutely foul mouth, and that is one of the many reasons that 'Faceless' is a nearly-silent vigilante.
- For the first few weeks of Vigilantism, Faceless used his powers to alter his voice and sound super gravelly. He eventually dropped this, not least because it taxed his calorie supply, and it just sounded silly.
- While he earns a decent amount from his Editorial work, Alex actually makes just as much cash playing online poker.
- Alex has a tendency to fiddle and fidget his fingers when he gets nervous.
Feats accomplished by The Faceless in the course of the Roleplay. This list is currently EMPTY
[/fieldbox]
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Firemind
Guest
Original poster
Nickname: Bulwark
Age: 27
Species: Human
Appearance: A tall, strong looking woman with long red hair and a big green eyes. She stands at roughly 6'3, and almost always seems to have a smile on her face; befitting her easy-going nature and her honour-focused lifestyle. Perhaps unusual for most mercenaries and thugs, Ahria doesn't have too many openly visible scars or marks on her body, so used to her armour taking the brunt of her war wounds. She has a few scratches and scars on her hands, from practising with weapons, but no more so than the average warrior.
In battle Ahria wears bulky Plate armour, pockmarked by scratches and dings that portray an item overused and depend upon. The armour has the light blue tint of a Ylissean smith's handiwork, a fact she doesn't keep secret and in fact prides herself about. Outside of battle, she favours simple garb. Plain tops and comfortable clothing that is easy to repair, or train in are her only real possessions on the road, apart from her weapons of war.
Personality: Ahria is a friendly, open, and warm woman who nearly always wears a big smile and an honest expression. She is driven by a desire to be honourable, and better herself, and is selfless to a fault. When the chips are down, it is Ahria who is likely to be seen happily wading into the thick of battle to defend her friends and comrades, or give her time and effort to cheer them up away from the fields of war they so often occupy as part of the Manticores. Some people have accused her of being selfless to the point of self-sacrifice, and fear she might burn herself out if she doesn't learn to pace herself and say no sometimes.
Powers/Abilities: Ahria is a practiced warrior with Lance and Shield. In combat she is a defensive powerhouse, who commands whatever area of the battlefield she occupies. Outside of combat, she's a decent cook and an excellent seamstress. She's currently trying to learn how to ride a horse, as is becomming of a true Knight.
Weaknesses: Ahria is particularly slow compared to others, sometimes taking two attacks in the time it takes her to swing one. She is also weak to Armourbreaker type weapons. Unfortunately, Ahria is not a very good liar, and is a little on the gullible side when faced with other, better liars.
History: Born the bastard of a Ylissean noblewoman and a well-known Blacksmith, Ahria was put in a complicated position from birth. Her mother's station provided her a few benefits and some financial aid for her father and his smithy, but in truth Ahria was more her father's daughter than her mother. She grew up with the sound of metal pounding metal, not the sound of noble classes and the like.
When she was a teenager, Ahria secretly aspired to join the Shepherds that protected Ylisse, but was persuaded away from it by her mother; who worried that should Ahria rise to such a prominant role, her heritage might become widespread and become the source of scandal. So instead of pursuing her ambitions, Ahria decided to become a simpler sort of soldier in the army; something less audacious and honourable. Even that would eventually prove to be a problem, as within a few years of service she was put under the command of her mother's true husband.
The position was awkward for Ahria, but the man seemingly knew nothing of her heritage and treated her well enough. She started to advance in standing, and was in line for a promotion by the time she had served for a mere three years. When she was in her early twenties, she discovered a discarded missif, which spilled the truth; her commander knew who she was, and was promoting her as a way to spite his wife. She hadn't earned her promotions at all! Devestated at being used as a tool in the Nobles' games, she resigned and fled Ylisse, eventually joining up with the Manticores.
Family:
Marrik Whitehart, Ylissean Blacksmith residing in Ylisstol
Jennivive Sparrow Connessa, Duchess of Mount Prism
Extra: N/a
Age: 27
Species: Human
Appearance: A tall, strong looking woman with long red hair and a big green eyes. She stands at roughly 6'3, and almost always seems to have a smile on her face; befitting her easy-going nature and her honour-focused lifestyle. Perhaps unusual for most mercenaries and thugs, Ahria doesn't have too many openly visible scars or marks on her body, so used to her armour taking the brunt of her war wounds. She has a few scratches and scars on her hands, from practising with weapons, but no more so than the average warrior.
In battle Ahria wears bulky Plate armour, pockmarked by scratches and dings that portray an item overused and depend upon. The armour has the light blue tint of a Ylissean smith's handiwork, a fact she doesn't keep secret and in fact prides herself about. Outside of battle, she favours simple garb. Plain tops and comfortable clothing that is easy to repair, or train in are her only real possessions on the road, apart from her weapons of war.
Personality: Ahria is a friendly, open, and warm woman who nearly always wears a big smile and an honest expression. She is driven by a desire to be honourable, and better herself, and is selfless to a fault. When the chips are down, it is Ahria who is likely to be seen happily wading into the thick of battle to defend her friends and comrades, or give her time and effort to cheer them up away from the fields of war they so often occupy as part of the Manticores. Some people have accused her of being selfless to the point of self-sacrifice, and fear she might burn herself out if she doesn't learn to pace herself and say no sometimes.
Powers/Abilities: Ahria is a practiced warrior with Lance and Shield. In combat she is a defensive powerhouse, who commands whatever area of the battlefield she occupies. Outside of combat, she's a decent cook and an excellent seamstress. She's currently trying to learn how to ride a horse, as is becomming of a true Knight.
Weaknesses: Ahria is particularly slow compared to others, sometimes taking two attacks in the time it takes her to swing one. She is also weak to Armourbreaker type weapons. Unfortunately, Ahria is not a very good liar, and is a little on the gullible side when faced with other, better liars.
History: Born the bastard of a Ylissean noblewoman and a well-known Blacksmith, Ahria was put in a complicated position from birth. Her mother's station provided her a few benefits and some financial aid for her father and his smithy, but in truth Ahria was more her father's daughter than her mother. She grew up with the sound of metal pounding metal, not the sound of noble classes and the like.
When she was a teenager, Ahria secretly aspired to join the Shepherds that protected Ylisse, but was persuaded away from it by her mother; who worried that should Ahria rise to such a prominant role, her heritage might become widespread and become the source of scandal. So instead of pursuing her ambitions, Ahria decided to become a simpler sort of soldier in the army; something less audacious and honourable. Even that would eventually prove to be a problem, as within a few years of service she was put under the command of her mother's true husband.
The position was awkward for Ahria, but the man seemingly knew nothing of her heritage and treated her well enough. She started to advance in standing, and was in line for a promotion by the time she had served for a mere three years. When she was in her early twenties, she discovered a discarded missif, which spilled the truth; her commander knew who she was, and was promoting her as a way to spite his wife. She hadn't earned her promotions at all! Devestated at being used as a tool in the Nobles' games, she resigned and fled Ylisse, eventually joining up with the Manticores.
Family:
Marrik Whitehart, Ylissean Blacksmith residing in Ylisstol
Jennivive Sparrow Connessa, Duchess of Mount Prism
Extra: N/a
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Firemind
Guest
Original poster
[fieldbox=Ren'Fon, Violet, solid]
Name: Ren'fon
Nickname: Stick
Age: 20
Species: Human
Class: Thief
Appearance: Ren'fon is a handsome man with obvious traits of a man of Chon'sin. He stands at around 6 foot, and is actually quite thin for his height at barely 100 lbs -hence the nickname, or at least so he claims. His hair is brown, chaotic, long, and most of the time barely kept together by a messy ponytail that reaches down to the curve of his spine. His eyes are brown and he generally seems to look through people more than at them.
Personality: Ren'fon is a fairly lax individual, despite his sometimes stern expression. He is the type to attempt to dodge obligations and duty in favour of slacking off, or pursuing whatever tasks he wants to do at the time. Part of the reason he is such a good thief is his ability to hide so well, so that he can quietly paint, or watch scenery, or just people-watch. He is pretty succinct in conversation, preferring to say things in 1 word, or not at all. Despite all this, he tries to be as useful to the people he likes or works with as possible, and doesn't like to depend on others. If he ever accrues debt or owes people favours he is the sort to threat over repaying them, and will generally try to go above and beyond to be out of debt with people. Conversely, he doesn't really expect much back from people when he helps them out.
Powers/Abilities: Ren'fon is a decent dagger wielder and even has the very basics of swordplay down, but his biggest asset is his ability to sneak around at pace and jimmy a lock. He is quick, skilful, patient, and precise when it comes to his thievery...and actually transfers those skills quite nicely; making him an excellent painter.
Weaknesses: Ren'fon is more frail than he might first appear, lacking some of the tenacity and defensive capabilities of most warriors. If he cannot dodge a hit, it will be a painful blow for him, to be sure.
History: Born to unknown Chon'sin parents, in an unknown situation, Ren'fon's life begins in a reed basket, on the porch of the Mercy of Naga Orphanage. He was abandoned there by whatever parents he had, and was raised by the merciful Matron-Matron of the establishment; a name and a sealed bronze locket his only legacy from the parents who left him alone. He grew up quickly amongst the dozen or so other orphans, an outcaste in that Valm establishment because he was so clearly a foreigner to the lands. He was somewhat runty in his early years; especially compared to the other orphans, so he had to learn to avoid fights, and to stay away from the group.
Ren'fon was thankfully a quick learner, and he picked up the tricks he would need to survive. He was fast, and quiet. He could sneak in and out of the shadows and so often he found himself hiding in the shade of the Mila Tree, observing the wonderful natural monument and admiring it from afar. On days he felt particularly brave, in his early teens, he would explore high up the tree and see the strangers who made pilgrimage towards the top. He even claims to have seen the venerable Lady Tiki on occasion, and he cannot deny he was smitten by the voice of Naga on first sight.
He never acted on it, of course, and eventually he grew older still, reaching eighteen years and becoming a true adult. He left the Orphanage, thanking the few women who worked their and raised him, but he needed to make a life for himself elsewhere. He had picked up a few basic thieves skills in his later years, working with bandits as a safe-breaker. He rejected the group when they went to try and raid and pillage, killing the leader before fleeing across the sea on a boat that was trading to Ragna Ferox. Once he reached the main land of Ylisse, he worked for a little while as a thief; buying himself a sword before he eventually found himself joining the Manticores; mostly as a way to avoid the debtors and angry bandits.
Family: None, although he still holds the Matron-Mother below the shade of the Mila Tree as his closest kin.
Extra: N/a
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Firemind
Guest
Original poster
[fieldbox=Sidarus Rao, Red, solid]
Age: 28
Race: Mandalorian Human
Class: Mandalorian POW
Job: Soldier: Heavy Weapons Specialist
Sexuality: Bisexual
Stats: (distribute 50 points)
Likes: Combat, Strong people, Wisdom, Honour and an Honourable death, Women, Mando'a Caligraphy, Reading, Big Guns
Dislikes: People who talk too much, Smart-asses, Preachers, Cowards, Military food, The idea of rotting in a cell, Dying for nothing
Ability: (Given by GM after approval, don't worry about this)
[/fieldbox]
Race: Mandalorian Human
Class: Mandalorian POW
Job: Soldier: Heavy Weapons Specialist
Sexuality: Bisexual
Stats: (distribute 50 points)
- Strength: 14
- Dexterity: 4
- Constitution: 10
- Intelligence: 8
- Wisdom: 10
- Charisma: 4
Likes: Combat, Strong people, Wisdom, Honour and an Honourable death, Women, Mando'a Caligraphy, Reading, Big Guns
Dislikes: People who talk too much, Smart-asses, Preachers, Cowards, Military food, The idea of rotting in a cell, Dying for nothing
Ability: (Given by GM after approval, don't worry about this)
[/fieldbox]
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Firemind
Guest
Original poster
[fieldbox=Sidarus Rao, Red, solid]
Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana. Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana. Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana. Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana. Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana. Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana.
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[/fieldbox]
Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana. Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana. Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana. Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana. Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana. Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana.
Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana.Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana.Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana.
Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana.Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana.
Waffle waffle waffle. Waffle waffle waffle waffle. Pancake pancake pancake pancake. Syrup syrup syrup, banana flakes, syrup, banana.
[/fieldbox]
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Firemind
Guest
Original poster
He knew he was not the most experienced hunter in Middenland. Others existed in folk song and in tavern wail. Jerimius, the Stern; Nicholai, the Cunning; Mikalash, the Cruel. Each occupied a pantheon amongst those who hunted monsters. He wasn't the anything. He was simply a young man, of handsome face and of unblemished youth. The stubble on his chin and cheeks was unkempt and brown, just like the curling locks of his hair. He was barely more past his Twenty-second year, but still he was starting off on the dangerous quest of becoming a true blue monster slayer. It had been a difficult journey thus far, but he accepted it gratefully. Maybe that would be his moniker? The Gracious. Bartholomew Balthazar, The Gracious. Bartholomew Balthazar, the Monster Hunter. Bartholomew... Bartholomew... Bart...
"...Mr Bart Sir! Mr Bart!" The shrill voice of the shepherdess hollered loudly in his ear. The wrinkling Crone's voice was incessant as it stirred the young hunter from his dreams. The bed of hay underneath him was already being gnawed at by hungry farm animals. He grumbled as he rubbed sleep from his blue eyes, gazing at the tarnished ceiling as he took in the events that had led him to this ordinary seeming town. There had been...reports of some strange elixirs coming out of the area. A lord had gotten sick when he took the brew, meant as a cure for a blacksmith's son. The hunters had been called to look around the area, see if it was just some sort of shoddy alchemist, or an actual threat like a monster, or even a witch. The more storied hunters scoffed at the tale as an angry, no-name Baron throwing a fit over being fleeced. They chose the more obvious and pressing tasks. Bart though, was free to pursue something as simplistic as this. These small-sounding tales were often signs of some of the most secretive and dangerous monsters. "Mr Bart Sir, I must insist you hurry and be leavin'. The barn is t'be needed for the Lord's horses. He's come down a wee'mite earlier than we predicted m'lord. Seeks to collect his taxes before going on a hunt. You must clear out sir."
He groaned in discontent as he got up from his bed of straw, rubbing yet more sleep from his eyes as he stretched laboriously. He reached for his belongings, a shoddily thrown together pack
[TBC]
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