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[OOC] Verthaven: Moved to a higher level of existence Page 3
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MrDidact The Watcher on the Wall
Member
Seen
5 yrs ago
Basic Information
Name:
Nickname/Alias/Etc:
Gender:
Age:
Height:
Weight:
Home District:
Appearance
Hair Color:
Eye Color:
Ethnicity:
Physical Appearance:
Attire:
Personality
Innate & Outward Personality:
Hobbies/Interests:
Skills/Talents:
Prized Possession:
Quote(s):
Relationships
Family:
Dynamics:
Abilities
Power Class:
Power:
Limits:
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Sample Post:
Name:
Steven Freeman
Nickname/Alias/Etc:
Steve, Stevie, Blur
Gender:
Male
Age:
22
Height:
5'11
Weight:
180 lbs
Home District:
Rosalina Isle - Turtle Creek
Appearance
Hair Color:
Black
Eye Color:
Brown
Ethnicity:
Black
Physical Appearance:
Steven cuts a toned lean figure with the defined muscles of a runner. His skin is smooth dark brown, dark as chocolate, and free of blemishes and mostly hairless. His deep brown eyes contain a bright, mischievous light and they're large, expressive eyes with eyelashes more curled than is usual for guy and are framed by dark peaked eyebrows. Steven is clean shaven and he likes to keep his hair close-cropped, he keeps his face clear of any signs of a mustache or beard while his head is crowned by dark and youthful layer of black. He goes through a lot of effort to keep himself well-manicured and his skin smooth and his nails are always immaculately trimmed. When he smiles it's with a full mouth of strong bright white teeth. Vanity thy name is Steven. He has one tattoo, a burning sun with a heart at its center over his own. He also has one scar, a thin gash running along his side a reminder to never be too cocky. He wears no jewelry or accessories, preferring to be sensible in this one aspect. Overall he presents a slim handsome athletic physique with his strong broad jaw and high cheekbones.
Attire:
Steven doesn't buy into fashion trends or popular styles. He wears what he likes and what feels comfortable. On casual occasions he likes boots, a dark jacket, loose button-ups, and dark jeans. But when the occasion calls for dressing up he doesn't hesitate to don one of his many custom tailored suits with designer shoes and ties. His increasing nightly escapades see him donning dark racing suits and shoes with thick gloves and a custom modern and smooth black motorcycle helmet.
Personality
Innate & Outward Personality:
At his core Steven is a carefree, fun-loving man. He's energetic and intelligent, always seeking out pleasure and excitement but possesses a cunning mind with a vivid imagination. Steven is easily amused and easy-going, doesn't like holding grudges but is prone to bouts of fiery passion. When he cares for something or someone he cares deeply, once earned his loyalty and trust is unwavering. Steven is impulsive and extroverted, if he cares to do something he will do it and he is unafraid of approaching complete strangers and making new friends. Or lovers. Steven projects a charismatic air and will flirt openly with anyone, man or woman, who catches his fancy. Steven detests being bored and is always looking for something to keep his excitement, and as a result tends to have a short attention span when something doesn't catch his interest.
He has considerably looser morals than most people and thinks nothing wrong about polyamory. He believes people should do what they want but draws the line at physically or mentally damaging people or ripping them off. He's smart in his own way but is almost completely ignorant of anything science or history related and hates numbers. He enjoys writing and performing but is almost allergic to traditional work. He also has a habit of goofing off and performing immature antics such as super-speed assisted pranks. At this point in life he's firm in his position of not believing in monogamy.
He has a unique sense of humor, clever and witty but almost never biting and is prone to showing off. Steven is a man who is utterly confident and secure in who he is. Many would call him arrogant and he would say they were probably right, he always relishes the opportunity to prove he's the best at something whether it's arm wrestling, shot-drinking, or anything else. He is a party boy and a loyal friend to those he calls friends. He prefers to live and let live, tries to avoid conflict, and tries his best to generally not be an asshole. But once he is made an enemy he will pursue recourse until the bitter end for he is also headstrong and stubborn when his good humor is soured. He doesn't like bullies and if he sees someone strong pushing down someone weak it really pisses him off. He's not the kind to stand by and do nothing. He's the kind to walk up to the guy and try to talk him down. And if that doesn't work he's not afraid to throw a punch.
He has considerably looser morals than most people and thinks nothing wrong about polyamory. He believes people should do what they want but draws the line at physically or mentally damaging people or ripping them off. He's smart in his own way but is almost completely ignorant of anything science or history related and hates numbers. He enjoys writing and performing but is almost allergic to traditional work. He also has a habit of goofing off and performing immature antics such as super-speed assisted pranks. At this point in life he's firm in his position of not believing in monogamy.
He has a unique sense of humor, clever and witty but almost never biting and is prone to showing off. Steven is a man who is utterly confident and secure in who he is. Many would call him arrogant and he would say they were probably right, he always relishes the opportunity to prove he's the best at something whether it's arm wrestling, shot-drinking, or anything else. He is a party boy and a loyal friend to those he calls friends. He prefers to live and let live, tries to avoid conflict, and tries his best to generally not be an asshole. But once he is made an enemy he will pursue recourse until the bitter end for he is also headstrong and stubborn when his good humor is soured. He doesn't like bullies and if he sees someone strong pushing down someone weak it really pisses him off. He's not the kind to stand by and do nothing. He's the kind to walk up to the guy and try to talk him down. And if that doesn't work he's not afraid to throw a punch.
Hobbies/Interests:
Running, swimming, soccer, and parkour are his favored sports while he likes to train in mixed martial arts and knife fighting. When he's not out partying, eating, or travelling to new places he's often at home working on his writings which range from erotic romance to psychological drama and horror. He has no interest in traditional work and loves the freedom being a writer affords him. Its very rare when he does not have a man or woman or several men and women in his apartment.
Skills/Talents:
He's a talented athlete and trained in parkour and swim since he was a youth. Steven is also a highly competent hand-to-hand fighter even without his powers and is an expert with a blade. He likes to think he has a way with words and often tries to charm people into giving him what he wants.
Prized Possession:
A pair of 8 inch carbon fiber daggers he had custom made. He hides one in his boot and another in his belt hidden by his jacket.
Quote(s):
"I don't know if there's a God, I don't know why we're here, I don't know if there's a higher purpose. I do know that we live in a beautiful world with beautiful people and good food. Why worry when you can have fun?"
Steven grew up fairly privileged. His father was a successful music producer and his mother was a high-priced corporate lawyer. He grew up with an older brother, an older sister, and a younger brother. His parents were usually busy and it fell to his brother, older by five years, and his sister, older by three, to parent him and his six year old younger brother. His older brother Marcus was stern for his age and intelligent while his sister Erica was sweet and caring but strong-willed. Steven's younger brother Darius was always a silly and simple boy. Those early years were a fond time for Steven and the four children never wanted for anything as they played together and comforted each other through their parents absences. Until when he was eight years old he discovered his power when playing a game of baseball he hit the ball out of the school's property entirely and ran through all the bases in two seconds. He was of course reported to NEST and registered. In tears he was sent to the Academy and only saw his family on special occasions.
Once in the Academy, he mostly cruised all through his school years. All of his teachers noted that he was intelligent but he shrugged off most of his academic responsibilities and achieved mostly average grades. His only real interests to begin with were sports. He was a show-off from a young age and liked to perform rapid cartwheels and other stunts to the applause of his fellow students. He had to be disciplined more than once to play fair and stop using his powers during athletic events but even then he beat all comers more often than not. He made quite a few friends in his years in the Academy and was always seen with a group of tag-alongs.
In junior high years he developed a talent for language arts and could hammer out short stories and short essays in moments. They were rough at first but once he got to freshman year of high school his work was acknowledged as good and only got better. Every Valentine's day he always sent out a few cards that made many girls and even a few boys swoon. So while he spurned math, science, and history he excelled in swim and soccer and wrote amusing short stories in his spare time. His natural charisma then broke out into the drama club and he became the Academy's star leading man through the rest of his school years. His good humor, playful charm, and energetic vitality made him beloved throughout the school. Steven had quite an active social life and was always out and about with friends or the latest fling and often helped organize some of the wildest parties.
His speed was never used in sporting events but nonetheless he was one of the Academy's top athletes, winning many accolades. He had long since gotten control of his powers and never once caused a serious accident. After tiring of team sports, he decided to take up free-running and self-defense classes just for kicks and his athleticism with his speed saw him excelling. Even when not using his powers he displayed superb speed, agility, and reflexes. When speeding he was something else entirely. The military was interested in him once he was in junior year. He seemed to be a great candidate for military service and perhaps eventually an Agent in NEST.
Won over by promises of excitement and adventure, he enlisted right after he graduated the Academy and turned Eighteen. Unfortunately, he didn't even make it through basic training. He was definitely capable but military life just wasn't for him. The rigid order rankled him and the stern surroundings bored him. His peers were mostly fun enough but Steven found their superiors to often be unpleasant. He was disciplined several times for fraternizing with fellow trainees, sneaking in alcohol, and generally being himself. He was deemed unfit and discharged and Steven was quite relieved. He realized he simply didn't have what it took to leave a regimented life and certainly not the life of a NEST Agent.
And, foregoing college completely, he decided to simply travel the country. By this point his father's company was thriving and he had more than enough money. For more than three years he explored every corner of North America, taking in all the sights and sounds. He ate, drank, partied, and made love never staying in one place for too long. He seduced countless men and women, once streaked naked across a whole commercial street, and generally got up to all kinds of silly antics. He was no stranger to prostitutes and experienced several drugs, but he concluded that he didn't need any substances to have fun and often times the working girls and boys didn't even charge for services. When it came time for family holidays Steven could always just run for several hours until he got home.
Once, south of the border he got into a knife fight with some toughs and didn't even bother to use his speed. However he was slashed in the side and almost died if it wasn't for a well-placed knee to the crotch and punch in the nose. He learned that day that he only needed to be the slower man once to end up on a slab. He took it to heart and tried his best to avoid fights and to fight smarter. But he still liked to show off and sometimes a purse snatcher or mugger or thief would find themselves blitzed to the ground without knowing what had hit them. These charitable opportunities always put a smile on his face and often a grateful man or woman in his bed. After seeing most of the continent and amassing quite a reputation in the nightclub scene of every major American city, he decided to return home to Verthaven.
By this time Marcus was a partner in their mother's firm with a wife and kids. Erica was a grade school teacher with her own family. And Darius was a growing musical talent and signed on to their father's company. Knowing he basically didn't need to work, he decided to start writing novels. His interests were varied and with a good agent and his parents' contacts he always got a good publishing deal. His works were always at least moderately successful and often appeared in best sellers list but he hasn't yet put out something that he thought was spectacular. Steven did enjoy the attention of his loving fans however. He kept up his fight training and can be sometimes seen gleefully racing around the city rooftops. On a lark he decided to audition for a part in a local play, a modern version of Romeo and Juliet. He won the role of Mercutio and was widely lauded by critics and audiences as one of the best performances in the play. Content in his accomplishments he returned to writing and partying and surveyed the night life scene of his birth city.
Steven loves his city and is living life to the fullest. But every so often he brushes with the not so sunny side of Verthaven. His trawls through the poorer districts often leave him in shock at how violent and dangerous his once beautiful city was now becoming. He saw more than one attempted rape or theft. Steven always intervened and gave the perpetrator a sound beating, but the collective suffering of his home was weighing on him. People kept going missing. Violence kept tearing apart the streets. Men and women, metahuman and mundane alike, kept being terrorized by gangs or extremist groups that were leaving countless bodies and broken lives in their wake. Even the easy-going Steven couldn't abide it. He loved having fun and he wanted everyone else to join the party. And they couldn't with the way things were going.
Steven didn't know what he should do but as he kept writing manuscripts and waking up next to strangers he realized he needed something more. Something truly thrilling. And so he decided to start slowly cleaning up the city. It started with strolls down Eagle-Rock and watching out for predators preying on the helpless. And he would always step in. A roughed up gang-banger there or a knocked out attempted rapist there, he did his good deeds. When talking about what happened these rescued civilians could only describe their savior as a Blur. And so that became his name. And slowly but surely Blur is working his way up to the people who are tearing his city apart. And hey there was always a good chance of meeting a fine man or woman. And it'd make a hell of a book. He recently reconnected with an old flame, one of his old girlfriends from the Academy, a girl his age named Isabella Ruiz. He approached a young attractive woman at a bar and was surprised to see her. After catching up they hit it off quite well and he know has a key to her own apartment and she to his but they both agreed its nothing serious. She now works as a journalist and has her hand on the pulse of the city.
Once in the Academy, he mostly cruised all through his school years. All of his teachers noted that he was intelligent but he shrugged off most of his academic responsibilities and achieved mostly average grades. His only real interests to begin with were sports. He was a show-off from a young age and liked to perform rapid cartwheels and other stunts to the applause of his fellow students. He had to be disciplined more than once to play fair and stop using his powers during athletic events but even then he beat all comers more often than not. He made quite a few friends in his years in the Academy and was always seen with a group of tag-alongs.
In junior high years he developed a talent for language arts and could hammer out short stories and short essays in moments. They were rough at first but once he got to freshman year of high school his work was acknowledged as good and only got better. Every Valentine's day he always sent out a few cards that made many girls and even a few boys swoon. So while he spurned math, science, and history he excelled in swim and soccer and wrote amusing short stories in his spare time. His natural charisma then broke out into the drama club and he became the Academy's star leading man through the rest of his school years. His good humor, playful charm, and energetic vitality made him beloved throughout the school. Steven had quite an active social life and was always out and about with friends or the latest fling and often helped organize some of the wildest parties.
His speed was never used in sporting events but nonetheless he was one of the Academy's top athletes, winning many accolades. He had long since gotten control of his powers and never once caused a serious accident. After tiring of team sports, he decided to take up free-running and self-defense classes just for kicks and his athleticism with his speed saw him excelling. Even when not using his powers he displayed superb speed, agility, and reflexes. When speeding he was something else entirely. The military was interested in him once he was in junior year. He seemed to be a great candidate for military service and perhaps eventually an Agent in NEST.
Won over by promises of excitement and adventure, he enlisted right after he graduated the Academy and turned Eighteen. Unfortunately, he didn't even make it through basic training. He was definitely capable but military life just wasn't for him. The rigid order rankled him and the stern surroundings bored him. His peers were mostly fun enough but Steven found their superiors to often be unpleasant. He was disciplined several times for fraternizing with fellow trainees, sneaking in alcohol, and generally being himself. He was deemed unfit and discharged and Steven was quite relieved. He realized he simply didn't have what it took to leave a regimented life and certainly not the life of a NEST Agent.
And, foregoing college completely, he decided to simply travel the country. By this point his father's company was thriving and he had more than enough money. For more than three years he explored every corner of North America, taking in all the sights and sounds. He ate, drank, partied, and made love never staying in one place for too long. He seduced countless men and women, once streaked naked across a whole commercial street, and generally got up to all kinds of silly antics. He was no stranger to prostitutes and experienced several drugs, but he concluded that he didn't need any substances to have fun and often times the working girls and boys didn't even charge for services. When it came time for family holidays Steven could always just run for several hours until he got home.
Once, south of the border he got into a knife fight with some toughs and didn't even bother to use his speed. However he was slashed in the side and almost died if it wasn't for a well-placed knee to the crotch and punch in the nose. He learned that day that he only needed to be the slower man once to end up on a slab. He took it to heart and tried his best to avoid fights and to fight smarter. But he still liked to show off and sometimes a purse snatcher or mugger or thief would find themselves blitzed to the ground without knowing what had hit them. These charitable opportunities always put a smile on his face and often a grateful man or woman in his bed. After seeing most of the continent and amassing quite a reputation in the nightclub scene of every major American city, he decided to return home to Verthaven.
By this time Marcus was a partner in their mother's firm with a wife and kids. Erica was a grade school teacher with her own family. And Darius was a growing musical talent and signed on to their father's company. Knowing he basically didn't need to work, he decided to start writing novels. His interests were varied and with a good agent and his parents' contacts he always got a good publishing deal. His works were always at least moderately successful and often appeared in best sellers list but he hasn't yet put out something that he thought was spectacular. Steven did enjoy the attention of his loving fans however. He kept up his fight training and can be sometimes seen gleefully racing around the city rooftops. On a lark he decided to audition for a part in a local play, a modern version of Romeo and Juliet. He won the role of Mercutio and was widely lauded by critics and audiences as one of the best performances in the play. Content in his accomplishments he returned to writing and partying and surveyed the night life scene of his birth city.
Steven loves his city and is living life to the fullest. But every so often he brushes with the not so sunny side of Verthaven. His trawls through the poorer districts often leave him in shock at how violent and dangerous his once beautiful city was now becoming. He saw more than one attempted rape or theft. Steven always intervened and gave the perpetrator a sound beating, but the collective suffering of his home was weighing on him. People kept going missing. Violence kept tearing apart the streets. Men and women, metahuman and mundane alike, kept being terrorized by gangs or extremist groups that were leaving countless bodies and broken lives in their wake. Even the easy-going Steven couldn't abide it. He loved having fun and he wanted everyone else to join the party. And they couldn't with the way things were going.
Steven didn't know what he should do but as he kept writing manuscripts and waking up next to strangers he realized he needed something more. Something truly thrilling. And so he decided to start slowly cleaning up the city. It started with strolls down Eagle-Rock and watching out for predators preying on the helpless. And he would always step in. A roughed up gang-banger there or a knocked out attempted rapist there, he did his good deeds. When talking about what happened these rescued civilians could only describe their savior as a Blur. And so that became his name. And slowly but surely Blur is working his way up to the people who are tearing his city apart. And hey there was always a good chance of meeting a fine man or woman. And it'd make a hell of a book. He recently reconnected with an old flame, one of his old girlfriends from the Academy, a girl his age named Isabella Ruiz. He approached a young attractive woman at a bar and was surprised to see her. After catching up they hit it off quite well and he know has a key to her own apartment and she to his but they both agreed its nothing serious. She now works as a journalist and has her hand on the pulse of the city.
Relationships
Family:
Hank Freeman (Mostly-Absent but charitable Father)
Desdemona Freeman (Strong-willed and commanding Mother)
Marcus Freeman (Serious, Intelligent, Calculating brother)
- his sister-in-law Samantha (Brainy and Attractive)
- his two nephews George and Alexander (both studious but fun-loving with their aunt's influence)
Erica Freeman (Sincere, Kind, Gentle yet Strong sister)
- his brother-in-law Robert (charming and nice, also a white guy)
- his niece Aria (smart but sassy and confident, his favorite)
Darius Freeman (Simple, Talented, Happy-go-lucky brother)
Desdemona Freeman (Strong-willed and commanding Mother)
Marcus Freeman (Serious, Intelligent, Calculating brother)
- his sister-in-law Samantha (Brainy and Attractive)
- his two nephews George and Alexander (both studious but fun-loving with their aunt's influence)
Erica Freeman (Sincere, Kind, Gentle yet Strong sister)
- his brother-in-law Robert (charming and nice, also a white guy)
- his niece Aria (smart but sassy and confident, his favorite)
Darius Freeman (Simple, Talented, Happy-go-lucky brother)
Dynamics:
Isabella Ruiz | Good | Childhood Friend, First Love, Favorite Lay, Literary Muse, Possible Source | "Man, what can you say about Bella? Except, goddamn. There's just something about her, I saw it when we were in school and its even stronger now. She has it all: wit, charm, personality. And if she wants something, she gets it. The girl deserves to have a hurricane named after her." |
Abilities
Power Class:
Super-System
Power:
Super-Speed including Super-Reflexes and Agility coupled with increased stamina. He can also vibrate parts of his body in several different intensities with various effects. He also seems to have a better than average immune system and while he doesn't recover from fatigue or injury any faster, he bounces back to full health once recovered where a normal human might have been crippled.
Limits:
Steven is faster than a speeding bullet but is nowhere near as fast as light. He couldn't dodge energy attacks such as lasers. He is no stronger than a physically fit man his age and is just as durable as any other person when he isn't blurring and even then his field doesn't stop bullets or large blunt objects. If he gets shot or slams into a wall he will go down. He can't run up vertical walls or across water like in the movies. Instead he has to swim or climb at super-speed. At a speed fast enough to dodge bullets he can only keep it up for maybe ten to fifteen seconds and being nearly wiped out. While his brain processes information much faster he has the same senses as any normal human and he doesn't heal from wounds any faster. His brain only works faster once his reflexes kick in, so if he's the victim of a sneak attack he'd be just as surprised as anyone else. He definitely can't vibrate through walls and no matter how hard he tries he can't turn himself into a tornado or spin his arms and create a whirlwind.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
The faster and longer he goes the more it drains out of him. At normal cruising speed he is akin to a cheetah running or a car on the freeway. He can keep up this pace for up to two hours before needing rest and refreshment. Any longer and it'd start to hurt him. But if he goes faster, say fast enough to dodge a bullet, it takes a lot of energy and the time he can go that fast shrinks rapidly. After ten full seconds of being faster than a speeding bullet, he would need to take a day off to rest. Any faster and it'd lead to the progressively worsening effects all metahumans have right before ashing. His inner energy helps but he's constantly eating in order to keep up with his metabolism and he's discovered that it's almost impossible to get drunk. He couldn't go any faster without being harmed, and that's without accounting for friction and wind shear.
His speed is both his greatest asset and his greatest danger. He can't even go at cruising speed in normal clothes without it getting ruined and he has to wear proper attire to speed up. The faster he goes the more he's vulnerable to friction and wind shear. If he goes faster than cruising speed the wind works against him and somewhat impedes him as he moves around, and it becomes much more difficult to control his movement. He has to be very careful when he runs at high speeds and only every goes much faster than normal in a straight line. Precision maneuvering at the top tiers of movement is pretty much impossible. He needs to wear a full-bodied suit to protect himself from the friction of his movement and his higher speeds tend to get very uncomfortably hot, without protection he'd get some burns. That's why he blurs faster than a bullet very rarely and only over short distances more akin to sprinting than marathon running. He is still a servant to momentum.
If he was speeding and happened to trip his momentum would lead to a painful landing. And the faster he goes the harder it is to stop, and he has to either decelerate earlier or decelerate over a larger area. At top speed it'd be impossible to just stop on a dime. He still needs traction to run and slippery surfaces severely limit him. He has no protection against solid objects. He's even more susceptible to unseen light poles than normal people when he speeds up. The faster he goes and the harder the object helps determine how much it hurts. And if he went high-speed into a brick wall he'd definitely be dead or horribly maimed. He also can't really punch anyone or hit them at his higher speeds without it feeling painful or even causing damage to his body. He'd have to stick with knife slashes which is why extremely high-speed combat is only for emergencies.
While he's blurring it's akin to an adrenaline rush and he might not notice any injuries he sustains till afterward. His brain works much faster than normal but only when he's speeding up. During this time he processes information much faster but it puts strain on his mind and he definitely couldn't do complex equations in his head while running faster than cruising speed without a hell of a headache. This faster processing only activates when he's using his powers and he can be caught off guard like anyone else. While he's blurring he often has to deliberately slow down the way he talks otherwise his words just melt into each other and become somewhat confusing.
His speed is both his greatest asset and his greatest danger. He can't even go at cruising speed in normal clothes without it getting ruined and he has to wear proper attire to speed up. The faster he goes the more he's vulnerable to friction and wind shear. If he goes faster than cruising speed the wind works against him and somewhat impedes him as he moves around, and it becomes much more difficult to control his movement. He has to be very careful when he runs at high speeds and only every goes much faster than normal in a straight line. Precision maneuvering at the top tiers of movement is pretty much impossible. He needs to wear a full-bodied suit to protect himself from the friction of his movement and his higher speeds tend to get very uncomfortably hot, without protection he'd get some burns. That's why he blurs faster than a bullet very rarely and only over short distances more akin to sprinting than marathon running. He is still a servant to momentum.
If he was speeding and happened to trip his momentum would lead to a painful landing. And the faster he goes the harder it is to stop, and he has to either decelerate earlier or decelerate over a larger area. At top speed it'd be impossible to just stop on a dime. He still needs traction to run and slippery surfaces severely limit him. He has no protection against solid objects. He's even more susceptible to unseen light poles than normal people when he speeds up. The faster he goes and the harder the object helps determine how much it hurts. And if he went high-speed into a brick wall he'd definitely be dead or horribly maimed. He also can't really punch anyone or hit them at his higher speeds without it feeling painful or even causing damage to his body. He'd have to stick with knife slashes which is why extremely high-speed combat is only for emergencies.
While he's blurring it's akin to an adrenaline rush and he might not notice any injuries he sustains till afterward. His brain works much faster than normal but only when he's speeding up. During this time he processes information much faster but it puts strain on his mind and he definitely couldn't do complex equations in his head while running faster than cruising speed without a hell of a headache. This faster processing only activates when he's using his powers and he can be caught off guard like anyone else. While he's blurring he often has to deliberately slow down the way he talks otherwise his words just melt into each other and become somewhat confusing.
Sample Post:
The banger's front tooth clattered on the pavement of the dark alley as he crashed to the ground in a yelp of pain. His four friends all stood rigid with knives or bronze knuckles, while the punk on the ground had a nine millimeter which he had dropped. In between the thugs was a young woman in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her skimpy clothes and make-up marked her as a working girl, Steven didn't know her. Which was a little surprising. He knew this section of the Eagle-Rock pretty well. She was pretty young, eighteen or nineteen at best, probably younger, with big blue eyes and long silky brown hair. Smooth skin, clean teeth, firm body. She was new to the scene and hadn't yet fallen to drugs like other girls. Runaway? Rebellious daughter? Could've been anything really. What mattered was that these five punks decided that it'd be fun to rob and probably rape an honest working woman. The nerve of some people.
All this flashed through Steven's head as he watched the leader sans one tooth get back to his feet. His smile was hidden by the balaclava. Steven stood straight with his arms crossed as he stared the men down, "Red Crowns huh? Don't you guys know to leave the girls alone? The punk spit blood, "Fuck you puta. We the Kings of these streets. And Kings take what they want. Money, bitches, whatever we want." Steven had to admit, his wiry youthfulness was kinda cute but the face tats ruined it. The knife he pulled didn't help. He seemed to be ignoring the gun at his feet, either wary of being exposed or wanting a straight up brawl.
Steven spread his arms, "Well if that's true than go ahead. Take me." The punks ignored the girl on the ground and shouted as they ran towards him. Steven grinned even bigger and tensed up for a fight, his fists held in front of him as he twisted sideways. No need for knives, he needed to teach them a lesson in courtesy. Barely speeding up, Steven sidestepped the leader's wild stab and grabbed his arm with one hand before elbowing it with a crack. Steven grabbed the shouting punk and kicked him into one of his friends toppling both. The next thug slashed at his face while his friend tried to go in with his brass knuckles. Steven grabbed the punk with the knuckles and twisted his hand while he ducked his head below his friends' slash and kicked him to the knee sending him shouting with pain to the ground. Steven used his free hand and punched the punk he held rapidly in the gut with blinding blows before he used both hands to grab his arm and flip the punk over his shoulder into the one with the busted knee. Steven walked forward and kicked the one who was under their fearless leader's body in the head. He stopped short as the last one fumbled with the gun.
Steven let him pick it up before he walked forward, side-stepping the barrel and grabbing the gun. The clip fell to the ground and the slide followed before the punk even knew what was going on. He stared bug-eyed before he was flat on his back with stars in his face. Steven surveyed the groaning toughs and set about kicking away their knives before quickly ruffling through their pockets. A few moments later several wallets were dropped in front of the girl as she looked up in awe. Steven nodded, "Take what you need. You've got bills to pay after all." He shouted back to the bangers who were just now starting to stir, "And hopefully they know to pay up next time they want some fun. Or else they'll get more than cracked bones." The girl expertly emptied out their wallets and ended up with a big wad of cash while the punks picked themselves up and ran off without looking back, supporting each other as they hobbled away.
The girl smiled sardonically, "My prince charming. Come to save the fair maiden." Steven chuckled and raised his hands, "I just don't like bullies. Especially thieving, raping bullies. They got off lucky this time. And so did you, you ought to be more careful." The girl laughed, "A girl's gotta make a living. And like you said, I got bills to pay." Steven nodded, "What's your name?" The girl smiled and held his gaze for a few moments before saying, "Call me Daisy. What's yours?" Steven shrugged, "Call me Blur."
At her skeptical brow he said, "Hey, all the other good fast names were taken."
She laughed again and Steven was sure she could tell he was smiling, "Ok, Blur then. Nice to meet you."
"And you. If you ever need any help, you can call this number." Blur handed her a simple white card with a number to his more private disposable phone. Daisy took the card and slipped it in her pocket while the cash went in her shirt. Steven's eyes followed her hand and Daisy grinned, "I could always give you a discount. Prince Charming fee." Steven rubbed his chin, "Well I don't know. I wanted to run around a bit more." But he liked that mischievous grin in her eyes, "But I could take a break. And I know a place. Shall we?" Steven extended a gloved hand.
She took it.
All this flashed through Steven's head as he watched the leader sans one tooth get back to his feet. His smile was hidden by the balaclava. Steven stood straight with his arms crossed as he stared the men down, "Red Crowns huh? Don't you guys know to leave the girls alone? The punk spit blood, "Fuck you puta. We the Kings of these streets. And Kings take what they want. Money, bitches, whatever we want." Steven had to admit, his wiry youthfulness was kinda cute but the face tats ruined it. The knife he pulled didn't help. He seemed to be ignoring the gun at his feet, either wary of being exposed or wanting a straight up brawl.
Steven spread his arms, "Well if that's true than go ahead. Take me." The punks ignored the girl on the ground and shouted as they ran towards him. Steven grinned even bigger and tensed up for a fight, his fists held in front of him as he twisted sideways. No need for knives, he needed to teach them a lesson in courtesy. Barely speeding up, Steven sidestepped the leader's wild stab and grabbed his arm with one hand before elbowing it with a crack. Steven grabbed the shouting punk and kicked him into one of his friends toppling both. The next thug slashed at his face while his friend tried to go in with his brass knuckles. Steven grabbed the punk with the knuckles and twisted his hand while he ducked his head below his friends' slash and kicked him to the knee sending him shouting with pain to the ground. Steven used his free hand and punched the punk he held rapidly in the gut with blinding blows before he used both hands to grab his arm and flip the punk over his shoulder into the one with the busted knee. Steven walked forward and kicked the one who was under their fearless leader's body in the head. He stopped short as the last one fumbled with the gun.
Steven let him pick it up before he walked forward, side-stepping the barrel and grabbing the gun. The clip fell to the ground and the slide followed before the punk even knew what was going on. He stared bug-eyed before he was flat on his back with stars in his face. Steven surveyed the groaning toughs and set about kicking away their knives before quickly ruffling through their pockets. A few moments later several wallets were dropped in front of the girl as she looked up in awe. Steven nodded, "Take what you need. You've got bills to pay after all." He shouted back to the bangers who were just now starting to stir, "And hopefully they know to pay up next time they want some fun. Or else they'll get more than cracked bones." The girl expertly emptied out their wallets and ended up with a big wad of cash while the punks picked themselves up and ran off without looking back, supporting each other as they hobbled away.
The girl smiled sardonically, "My prince charming. Come to save the fair maiden." Steven chuckled and raised his hands, "I just don't like bullies. Especially thieving, raping bullies. They got off lucky this time. And so did you, you ought to be more careful." The girl laughed, "A girl's gotta make a living. And like you said, I got bills to pay." Steven nodded, "What's your name?" The girl smiled and held his gaze for a few moments before saying, "Call me Daisy. What's yours?" Steven shrugged, "Call me Blur."
At her skeptical brow he said, "Hey, all the other good fast names were taken."
She laughed again and Steven was sure she could tell he was smiling, "Ok, Blur then. Nice to meet you."
"And you. If you ever need any help, you can call this number." Blur handed her a simple white card with a number to his more private disposable phone. Daisy took the card and slipped it in her pocket while the cash went in her shirt. Steven's eyes followed her hand and Daisy grinned, "I could always give you a discount. Prince Charming fee." Steven rubbed his chin, "Well I don't know. I wanted to run around a bit more." But he liked that mischievous grin in her eyes, "But I could take a break. And I know a place. Shall we?" Steven extended a gloved hand.
She took it.
Basic Information
Name:
Nickname/Alias/Etc:
Gender:
Age:
Height:
Weight:
Home District:
Appearance
Hair Color:
Eye Color:
Ethnicity:
Physical Appearance:
Attire:
Personality
Innate & Outward Personality:
Hobbies/Interests:
Skills/Talents:
Prized Possession:
Quote(s):
History/Bio:
Relationships
Family:
Dynamics:
TBA.
Abilities
Power Class:
Power:
Object Enhancement
Limits:
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Other:
Sample Post:
Name:
Felicia Takashi
Nickname/Alias/Etc:
Lissy, Rabbit, Stop-Sign
Gender:
Female
Age:
19
Height:
5'0ft
Weight:
115lbs
Home District:
Rosalina Isle – Turtle-Creek
Appearance
Hair Color:
Black with lilac-dyed streaks
Eye Color:
Amber with green flecks
Ethnicity:
Hungarian-Japanese
Physical Appearance:
Felicia is rail thin and small in almost every way, her body lacking any major feminine curves. Her skin is fair alabaster and has little to no blemishing marring it's perfection. On her heart-shaped face are a small button nose over a smallish pink pair of lips that seem to always be smiling ever so slightly. The only large thing about her are her large, slanted amber-hued eyes. “Doll” is probably the first thing most people think when they see her, or that she's a young teenager as she appears many years younger than her true age. She takes after her father's Japanese ethnicity almost entirely in her looks, and only those who look closely will see she isn't completely asian. Her silky black hair is cut short in back and hangs long in front, with swooping bangs hiding her forehead and parts of her face, generous lilac streaks twined throughout. The only make-up she'll plaster on her face is a light coating of mascara and some lip balm to keep her lips from getting dry.
Attire:
Even while it's completely hot outside Felicia will wear her black rabbit-eared hoodie with the hood down, the zipper undone, and the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her pants are typically flowy shorts or skirts with skin-tight knee-length leggings covering her legs. Underneath her hoodie she wears loose tanktops. She prefers wearing flip-flops over any other kind of foot-wear, but wears a functional pair of running shoes while working out. The designs on her clothing are usually splashes of color or artistic, though her tanktops are typically adorned with video game characters on the front. As far as accessories go, she has a bracelet with detachable steel charms on it that have a running theme of video game weapons. (The Master Sword and Hyrule Shield (Link – Zelda), a Gunblade (Cloud – Final Fantasy), a Keyblade (Sora – Kingdom Hearts), a Energy Sword (Master Chief – Halo), a pair of bladed Tonfas (Talim – Soul Calibur), and Masamune (Sephiroth – Final Fantasy) rounding out her collection).
Personality
Innate & Outward Personality:
Felicia puts on a good show for anyone she meets. She appears to be content, somewhat joking, and generally easy to get along with - but not overly kind. She has sailed through her middle-to-late teenage life without gaining any true friends, just many acquaintances. She'll smile if you smile, wave if you wave. What you give is what you get, but she draws the line before she can get more involved with any one person to a substantial degree. If the person tries to push her into a friendship, she'll think of the rudest thing she can say to get them off of her back.
Inwardly, she is a ball of emotion, anger, frustration, and still relives the day of her sister's death over and over again. She fixates on how she could have prevented it, and this ends up spilling over into her aspects of life. She tries to cause very little trouble for her family, and takes the verbal beat downs her mother lathers her with, with a hint of stoicism and a well-leashed tongue. Sure, she gets angry at her mother. So angry that she sees red, but Felicia refuses to confront her mother based off of pure stubbornness and an unwillingness to repeat past mistakes.
She retreats into doing physical activities to quell her emotions, and this has made her life purely: dojo, gym, vigilantism. On her resting days, she retreats into her bedroom for isolation.
Her self-induced isolation started after the death of her sister, and she's made sure that she focuses on her goals in life: becoming a vigilante to stop petty crime down in Las Palmas. This doesn't make her a hero, however. She hates the thugs she beats up to a remarkable degree, and her vendetta is one filled with many sleepless nights crouching in shadows or on rooftops waiting for some poor sap to step one toe out of line. Luckily for her, it happens every night. She hasn't gotten away scrape-free from her encounters, and has found herself with bruised rips and a black eye on more than one occasion.
Inwardly, she is a ball of emotion, anger, frustration, and still relives the day of her sister's death over and over again. She fixates on how she could have prevented it, and this ends up spilling over into her aspects of life. She tries to cause very little trouble for her family, and takes the verbal beat downs her mother lathers her with, with a hint of stoicism and a well-leashed tongue. Sure, she gets angry at her mother. So angry that she sees red, but Felicia refuses to confront her mother based off of pure stubbornness and an unwillingness to repeat past mistakes.
She retreats into doing physical activities to quell her emotions, and this has made her life purely: dojo, gym, vigilantism. On her resting days, she retreats into her bedroom for isolation.
Her self-induced isolation started after the death of her sister, and she's made sure that she focuses on her goals in life: becoming a vigilante to stop petty crime down in Las Palmas. This doesn't make her a hero, however. She hates the thugs she beats up to a remarkable degree, and her vendetta is one filled with many sleepless nights crouching in shadows or on rooftops waiting for some poor sap to step one toe out of line. Luckily for her, it happens every night. She hasn't gotten away scrape-free from her encounters, and has found herself with bruised rips and a black eye on more than one occasion.
Hobbies/Interests:
Martial arts have been a long-term hobby of hers and she practices her style religiously (Okinawan Goju Ryu) while attending a dojo, along with mixed martial arts at a gym over in Priscilla Isle. She's also an avid video game junkie and is rarely seen without a handheld system. At home she uses her computer to play games competitively online.
Skills/Talents:
In the same that martial arts are her hobby, you could say that they are they essence of her skills. With little interest in other things besides video games, she has become very good at what she does, which is mostly defensive. She knows how to use bo staffs, nunchaku, three-sectional staffs, sai, katanas and tonfas. Her size makes her lacking in raw power, but she employs arm-locks and take downs with finesse. When in action, she appears as if she's a monkey, deftly maneuvering around her opponent and nearly climbing them to perform moves. Her reach is her greatest weakness in this regard, but her size allows her to dodge attacks that might have hit another, larger person.
Prized Possession:
A Stop-Sign. Though not exactly a prized possession in the same way that most other people have, it is a token from a very traumatic incident in her life. She has fashioned it into a shield with leather straps.
Quote(s):
“If you ever hurt anyone again, I'll make sure you feel it twice as bad.”
History/Bio:
As the child of an upper class family there was nothing that Felicia could want for. She had status, friends, and everything that her heart desired material-wise. She grew up pampered in a ritzy school, with equally ritzy friends. Throughout her childhood she never truly understood compromise or obedience, and her attitude became reckless and rebellious during her very early teenage years (11-12). She would skip school, or stay out later than she was supposed to. Soon, it evolved into her doing drugs (smoking weed, primarily) with her other prissy friends and hanging out in the “bad” parts of town. It soon became enough for her busy and inattentive parents to notice and they began to set rules and guidelines for her, sometimes with very serious repercussions. When it became apparent to her that she would actually begin to lose her freedoms, she obeyed for the most part until her mother and her got into a fight that was bad enough to send Felicia bolting for the door and out into the dusky night.
She escaped to the Las Palmas Strip, a place her and her friends enjoyed going to, to be “dangerous” and “edgy” and sat on the corner of a curb, miffed at the “injustices” of her life. She hadn't been there long when a rather seedy man, who was later revealed to be a child trafficker through investigations, took notice of her. “You alone?” He asked as he sidled up on to her. She was too miffed at her mom to think about her response, which was incredibly stupid: “Yeah. Mom is a bitch.” She mumbled loud enough for him to hear. “That sucks. You should come to my place. Your mom cant bother you there.”
Though Felicia was a spoiled brat, her stomach felt as if it had fallen into an abyss. She knew trouble when she saw it, real trouble, and she declined his offer with a shaky “No thanks, bye” and began to get up to to get as far from him as possible. He grabbed for her, his hands nearly clamping down on her thin wrist, but she slipped free in time and ran back in the direction of Turtle-Creek, screaming for help as she ran.
She was breathless and tired, but she didn't stop running. Coming up on a four-way stop, she saw the familiar face of her older sister, Elizabeth, across from her on the opposite side. Elizabeth yelled for Felicia, a mixture of relief and anger twining through her voice. Obviously Elizabeth had been out and about looking for her younger sister. Felicia was pure relief, thankful that she was saved by her sister. That was when she felt a strong pair of hands on her shoulders and she jerked free, screaming and bolting towards her sister. She heard Elizabeth bellow with rage, “DON'T TOUCH MY SISTER!!!” and begin to run at speed that Felicia hadn't believed her older sister was capable of until then. That was when it happened.
Elizabeth was there one moment, hand outstretched and a tears streaming down her face that was pulled into a snarl, then a loud screech and she rag dolled against the force of the car ramming into her at 90mph, the life gone from her before she hit the pavement in a pool of blood and missing limbs. Beside her a stop-sign fell to the ground were the car had rammed into it and Elizabeth. The car immediately rocketed away from the scene without any preamble. Felicia faintly heard, as if the sound was coming from another world, “Oh fuck, I'm outta here!” and the footfalls of the man who had tried to kidnap her as he ran from the horrific hit-and-run that just unfolded before him.
Her powers manifested then and she heard the stop-sign lamenting over the death of a pedestrian. The wails of the stop-sign mirrored her own as she huddled in the road, hugging the mangled corpse of her sister. When police and paramedics arrived at the scene, they found Felicia speaking to the stop-sign and rocking the body of her sister back and forth, a strange glint in her eyes.
To say the death of her sister effected her greatly would be an understatement. She was devastated and broken, a shell of her former self for a long time after. She was sent to one of the best mental institutions for months after the death of Elizabeth, a complete gibbering mess. She repeated over and over “I can hear all the voices”. Nobody understood what it meant, but eventually Felicia figured out her powers. She's kept them secret from her family, and was soon released after she became more coherent.
For many years after, instead of socializing like she used to, she spent her days attending martial arts classes at a nearby dojo and, sometime later, going to a gym over on Priscilla Isle. When she wasn't doing that, she was playing video games in her free time. She became a model student, at least more so than she had been before, doing her homework and attending classes. She graduated successfully two years ago, and has spent that time since being a vigilante, using the stop-sign from her sister's murder scene to take down would-be rapists and thugs in the dead of night as she trolls Las Palmas Strip. Her costume is a scarf covering her lower face and the hood of her favorite hoodie pulled up over her hair. She's earned the nickname Stop-Sign because nearly all of the people she's thwarted have only seen a bigger and harder than normal stop-sign bashing into them before they're knocked unconscious.
With her power being so obscure, she's glided under the radar of NEST for two years, but she's scared that her luck might soon run out as she continually gains popularity among the locals.
She escaped to the Las Palmas Strip, a place her and her friends enjoyed going to, to be “dangerous” and “edgy” and sat on the corner of a curb, miffed at the “injustices” of her life. She hadn't been there long when a rather seedy man, who was later revealed to be a child trafficker through investigations, took notice of her. “You alone?” He asked as he sidled up on to her. She was too miffed at her mom to think about her response, which was incredibly stupid: “Yeah. Mom is a bitch.” She mumbled loud enough for him to hear. “That sucks. You should come to my place. Your mom cant bother you there.”
Though Felicia was a spoiled brat, her stomach felt as if it had fallen into an abyss. She knew trouble when she saw it, real trouble, and she declined his offer with a shaky “No thanks, bye” and began to get up to to get as far from him as possible. He grabbed for her, his hands nearly clamping down on her thin wrist, but she slipped free in time and ran back in the direction of Turtle-Creek, screaming for help as she ran.
She was breathless and tired, but she didn't stop running. Coming up on a four-way stop, she saw the familiar face of her older sister, Elizabeth, across from her on the opposite side. Elizabeth yelled for Felicia, a mixture of relief and anger twining through her voice. Obviously Elizabeth had been out and about looking for her younger sister. Felicia was pure relief, thankful that she was saved by her sister. That was when she felt a strong pair of hands on her shoulders and she jerked free, screaming and bolting towards her sister. She heard Elizabeth bellow with rage, “DON'T TOUCH MY SISTER!!!” and begin to run at speed that Felicia hadn't believed her older sister was capable of until then. That was when it happened.
Elizabeth was there one moment, hand outstretched and a tears streaming down her face that was pulled into a snarl, then a loud screech and she rag dolled against the force of the car ramming into her at 90mph, the life gone from her before she hit the pavement in a pool of blood and missing limbs. Beside her a stop-sign fell to the ground were the car had rammed into it and Elizabeth. The car immediately rocketed away from the scene without any preamble. Felicia faintly heard, as if the sound was coming from another world, “Oh fuck, I'm outta here!” and the footfalls of the man who had tried to kidnap her as he ran from the horrific hit-and-run that just unfolded before him.
Her powers manifested then and she heard the stop-sign lamenting over the death of a pedestrian. The wails of the stop-sign mirrored her own as she huddled in the road, hugging the mangled corpse of her sister. When police and paramedics arrived at the scene, they found Felicia speaking to the stop-sign and rocking the body of her sister back and forth, a strange glint in her eyes.
To say the death of her sister effected her greatly would be an understatement. She was devastated and broken, a shell of her former self for a long time after. She was sent to one of the best mental institutions for months after the death of Elizabeth, a complete gibbering mess. She repeated over and over “I can hear all the voices”. Nobody understood what it meant, but eventually Felicia figured out her powers. She's kept them secret from her family, and was soon released after she became more coherent.
For many years after, instead of socializing like she used to, she spent her days attending martial arts classes at a nearby dojo and, sometime later, going to a gym over on Priscilla Isle. When she wasn't doing that, she was playing video games in her free time. She became a model student, at least more so than she had been before, doing her homework and attending classes. She graduated successfully two years ago, and has spent that time since being a vigilante, using the stop-sign from her sister's murder scene to take down would-be rapists and thugs in the dead of night as she trolls Las Palmas Strip. Her costume is a scarf covering her lower face and the hood of her favorite hoodie pulled up over her hair. She's earned the nickname Stop-Sign because nearly all of the people she's thwarted have only seen a bigger and harder than normal stop-sign bashing into them before they're knocked unconscious.
With her power being so obscure, she's glided under the radar of NEST for two years, but she's scared that her luck might soon run out as she continually gains popularity among the locals.
Relationships
Family:
Hideyaki Takashi | Father | Alive – He's a quiet and stern man, but he loves his daughter though he may not tell her that often. A wealthy business man with a lot on his plate.
Amalia Takashi | Mother | Alive – She's extremely pompous and stuck up, and hates her daughter. Their personalities clash so frequently that Felicia rarely returns home if she knows her mother is around or awake. She is a trophy-wife and an heiress of a large fortune.
Elizabeth Takashi | Sister – Older | Deceased – When Elizabeth was alive she and Felicia weren't the closest, but they did have their bonding moments. She was the prized daughter of the family with a bright future ahead of her at a prominent university.
Amalia Takashi | Mother | Alive – She's extremely pompous and stuck up, and hates her daughter. Their personalities clash so frequently that Felicia rarely returns home if she knows her mother is around or awake. She is a trophy-wife and an heiress of a large fortune.
Elizabeth Takashi | Sister – Older | Deceased – When Elizabeth was alive she and Felicia weren't the closest, but they did have their bonding moments. She was the prized daughter of the family with a bright future ahead of her at a prominent university.
Dynamics:
TBA.
Abilities
Power Class:
Other
Power:
Object Enhancement
She has the ability to talk to and enhance man-made objects. She can reinforce them, making them more durable and hard than they were before, or make them larger or smaller. A nail-file? No problem, that can become a sword. A very blunt sword. She can't change their composition entirely, just make what they are into something harder or larger/smaller.
Limits:
Hardness/Durability: They can't become overly more powerful than what they were originally. Paper can't become steel in it's durability, but it can become more of a soft-plastic. Enough to stop a sloppily thrown punch, but not much else. Steel can become more unwilling to bend and brake, but not sharper. If a metahuman with impressive strength were to hit it, however, it would fold under the pressure. Piercing rounds penetrate it, as well as piercing weapons (so bullets/rapiers/etc.)
Length/Size: She can't make something larger than 4x4, nor smaller than 8x8ft, and she can control the sizes individually. The larger or smaller she makes it from it's original size, the weaker the object gets and the less hits it can take. She can only change the size of a stand alone object, meaning no buildings, floors, etc.
Distance: She must touch the object.
Other Limits: If there is something living within the object she's trying to enhance/change, she can't do it. Period. Clothes and armor are out of the question for her to try to control while a person is wearing them. Controlling objects that another metahuman has summoned is impossible. Her power works on an object for ten minutes before she needs to reapply it. She isn't capable of making objects move on their own.
Length/Size: She can't make something larger than 4x4, nor smaller than 8x8ft, and she can control the sizes individually. The larger or smaller she makes it from it's original size, the weaker the object gets and the less hits it can take. She can only change the size of a stand alone object, meaning no buildings, floors, etc.
Distance: She must touch the object.
Other Limits: If there is something living within the object she's trying to enhance/change, she can't do it. Period. Clothes and armor are out of the question for her to try to control while a person is wearing them. Controlling objects that another metahuman has summoned is impossible. Her power works on an object for ten minutes before she needs to reapply it. She isn't capable of making objects move on their own.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Manipulating objects repeatedly, especially unfamiliar ones, gives her headaches that lead very quickly into blinding, searing migraines. She must first befriend an object, treat it well, and then it becomes somewhat easier for her to use. The process can take a significant amount of time (months) - making on-the-fly manipulation an extremely painful process for her.
Other:
Sample Post:
Sweat beaded on her forehead underneath her “costume”, which was simply a rabbit-eared hoodie and a black scarf to cover her nose and mouth, as she crouched on the rooftop of a stripper bar in Las Palmas. It was warm tonight, and uncomfortably warm inside her current apparel, but it didn't deter her from her mission. She knew what happened in the alleyways behind these places, and what happened to the strippers who tried to rush home as quickly as possible after their shifts.
What they did inside was their own business, if it was the only way for them to afford to live, so be it. But Felicia, or Stop-Sign as she was called, made sure that they didn't have to be subjected to sexual harassment or rape outside of their work places. Or extortion. That was popular among the community here, extorting strippers who weren't already under a pimp into giving them their just-earned cash. Any thug could hassle an unclaimed stripper. The pimps praised it, as it made the girls seek refuge under them, thus earning cash flow. At least with the pimp they could keep some of their money and avoid being beaten as badly the ones who went solo.
The slam of metal on metal from below in the alley way told Felicia that one of the strippers was in a rush as she opened and closed the heavy back door to the joint. Felicia crawled along the roof to peer down at the retreating back of a woman in low-rise jeans, a pair of converse, a tank top and a baseball cap over her locks of blonde hair. Obviously she wasn't one of the ones under a pimp, they'd walk around in practically nothing, advertising themselves for business.
Felicia followed her target over rooftops that were relatively near to each other, a small jump here, a quick use of her powers to bridge a larger gap, and she kept pace relatively well. The woman below was actively glancing over her shoulder, as if expecting to be followed by someone. All of the sudden, a figure came from the shadows ahead of her, and stepped in her path. A large man with colorful tattoos spanning the left side of his face and running down beneath his crisp suit. He wasn't the usual thug, considering his clothes. A pimp offering her work? Whoever it was, and whatever they wanted, the stripper didn't want any of it. She turned and bolted as fast as her legs would take her. He sighed loudly and then ran after her. The stripper tripped suddenly, and was then cleverly cornered between the wall of a building and large dumpster full of some pretty rank trash by her suit-wearing assailant. She shouted for help, though it was a weak attempt. Something about this man scared her, and she knew she'd never receive help in time for him to do whatever it is he was going to do.
“Queue me,” Felicia lips curved up into a snarl and then she hopped from her vantage point, using her powers on an extra scarf she kept in her pocket to glide down to the ground not far below. In her backpack was her signature stop-sign, and she pulled it out as soon as she hit the ground running, using her powers to harden it and make it grow to shield her body. She connected with the man going at a full-on run, and she heard him grunt as he staggered. Shit. She thought, bringing her foot around to the back of his knee as he staggered, causing him to fall to one knee. Normally charging into them at a full run was enough to knock most of the thugs she encountered over, but this brute was large and nearly all muscle, it seemed. She might have picked a fight she couldn't win. She gripped her stop-sign with both hands and brought it crashing down on his skull with all of her strength, and he merely grunted again, dazed but not out.
“Please for the love of all that is holy, run now.” She barked at the stripper who was still huddled in the corner by the dumpster. The stripper obeyed, fleeing and not looking back. Her footfalls were the only sound other than the tattooed thug in his dusty suit cussing and sputtering. Felicia kept him dazed enough, and switched up her attacks to include kicking dirt into his face, and now he was wildly swinging and cussing. Great. He grazed her side with one of his impossibly large fists while blinded, and it hurt enough to cause her to double over momentarily. Fuck, I think he got one of my ribs! She could almost feel the bruise blossoming across her midsection just seconds after his fist bumped her. She was sure that, that was a bump and not a full on punch from this man.
She thrust her hand into her pocket as she backed up and extracted a ziplock bag of ground black pepper. She opened it and then chucked it directly at his face. He roared as pepper infiltrated his eyes, nose, and mouth, disabling him more effectively than the dirt or her stop-sign. She was so out of here.
When she came to the corner of the alley way, she looked back and saw the thug looking directly at her. His fists balled at his sides, his face stained with snot and tears, but he wasn't following her. She was more than spooked, and she ran faster than she had in a long time.
What they did inside was their own business, if it was the only way for them to afford to live, so be it. But Felicia, or Stop-Sign as she was called, made sure that they didn't have to be subjected to sexual harassment or rape outside of their work places. Or extortion. That was popular among the community here, extorting strippers who weren't already under a pimp into giving them their just-earned cash. Any thug could hassle an unclaimed stripper. The pimps praised it, as it made the girls seek refuge under them, thus earning cash flow. At least with the pimp they could keep some of their money and avoid being beaten as badly the ones who went solo.
The slam of metal on metal from below in the alley way told Felicia that one of the strippers was in a rush as she opened and closed the heavy back door to the joint. Felicia crawled along the roof to peer down at the retreating back of a woman in low-rise jeans, a pair of converse, a tank top and a baseball cap over her locks of blonde hair. Obviously she wasn't one of the ones under a pimp, they'd walk around in practically nothing, advertising themselves for business.
Felicia followed her target over rooftops that were relatively near to each other, a small jump here, a quick use of her powers to bridge a larger gap, and she kept pace relatively well. The woman below was actively glancing over her shoulder, as if expecting to be followed by someone. All of the sudden, a figure came from the shadows ahead of her, and stepped in her path. A large man with colorful tattoos spanning the left side of his face and running down beneath his crisp suit. He wasn't the usual thug, considering his clothes. A pimp offering her work? Whoever it was, and whatever they wanted, the stripper didn't want any of it. She turned and bolted as fast as her legs would take her. He sighed loudly and then ran after her. The stripper tripped suddenly, and was then cleverly cornered between the wall of a building and large dumpster full of some pretty rank trash by her suit-wearing assailant. She shouted for help, though it was a weak attempt. Something about this man scared her, and she knew she'd never receive help in time for him to do whatever it is he was going to do.
“Queue me,” Felicia lips curved up into a snarl and then she hopped from her vantage point, using her powers on an extra scarf she kept in her pocket to glide down to the ground not far below. In her backpack was her signature stop-sign, and she pulled it out as soon as she hit the ground running, using her powers to harden it and make it grow to shield her body. She connected with the man going at a full-on run, and she heard him grunt as he staggered. Shit. She thought, bringing her foot around to the back of his knee as he staggered, causing him to fall to one knee. Normally charging into them at a full run was enough to knock most of the thugs she encountered over, but this brute was large and nearly all muscle, it seemed. She might have picked a fight she couldn't win. She gripped her stop-sign with both hands and brought it crashing down on his skull with all of her strength, and he merely grunted again, dazed but not out.
“Please for the love of all that is holy, run now.” She barked at the stripper who was still huddled in the corner by the dumpster. The stripper obeyed, fleeing and not looking back. Her footfalls were the only sound other than the tattooed thug in his dusty suit cussing and sputtering. Felicia kept him dazed enough, and switched up her attacks to include kicking dirt into his face, and now he was wildly swinging and cussing. Great. He grazed her side with one of his impossibly large fists while blinded, and it hurt enough to cause her to double over momentarily. Fuck, I think he got one of my ribs! She could almost feel the bruise blossoming across her midsection just seconds after his fist bumped her. She was sure that, that was a bump and not a full on punch from this man.
She thrust her hand into her pocket as she backed up and extracted a ziplock bag of ground black pepper. She opened it and then chucked it directly at his face. He roared as pepper infiltrated his eyes, nose, and mouth, disabling him more effectively than the dirt or her stop-sign. She was so out of here.
When she came to the corner of the alley way, she looked back and saw the thug looking directly at her. His fists balled at his sides, his face stained with snot and tears, but he wasn't following her. She was more than spooked, and she ran faster than she had in a long time.
LPFan Linkin Park Soldier
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
My character is halfway done, but I just completed the easy parts, the hard work is just about to come. I gotta say though, it kind of made my jaw drop when I saw the CS I have to complete. I never done such a complex CS before. I'm not complaining or anything, i'm just saying.
GM
Shin Ghost Note I CHOOSE ME, I'M SORRY
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
Three sheets, it's time to go ham!
@Didos No offense, but, out of all of the sheets, yours seems be the most lacking. I mean, I'm not asking for too much, but Christine doesn't feel like a developed or complete character. It's mostly her backstory that I'm talking about. You didn't describe her childhood even in the slightest, and didn't mention what lead her to be a drug dealer. Was she a rebel growing up? How does she know Cyril Noctis? Where does she get the drugs? I think she needs a little more explanation. Speaking of her power, you need to expand that section a bit too. "Teleportation" can be taken in a lot of ways. Like, what exactly can she do? And, going off her Other section, she can teleport several cities. Which is pretty ridiculous.
@MrDidact Your character is alright, but you coded the sheet wrong. You're supposed to put the info in between the indent tags lol. Moving on, I think, with his power, he could use some heavier drawbacks/weaknesses. I... feel as if the weaknesses you stated are more in-line with limits than actual drawbacks - but even then, they wouldn't be all that limiting. The power is also pretty stronk. Like, if he can go faster than bullets, then how is anyone supposed to land a hit on him...?
@Aphelion I like Felicia, but I'm wondering if she's a dwarf or not. She's preeeeeeeetty tiny. And I doubt anyone can watch their sister get brutally run over without suffering some mental repercussions - and the same goes for a near-kidnapping experience. Her power is a bit different from what I was expecting, but maybe I can work with it. First, it should be restricted to solid objects... but substances and the sort. Also, what you put in the weaknesses section are limits. Restrictions. I'd like some concrete weaknesses/drawbacks. I can come up with something, just give me some time to think.
That is all. Fix what I have addressed, and maybe we can have some good times.
@Didos No offense, but, out of all of the sheets, yours seems be the most lacking. I mean, I'm not asking for too much, but Christine doesn't feel like a developed or complete character. It's mostly her backstory that I'm talking about. You didn't describe her childhood even in the slightest, and didn't mention what lead her to be a drug dealer. Was she a rebel growing up? How does she know Cyril Noctis? Where does she get the drugs? I think she needs a little more explanation. Speaking of her power, you need to expand that section a bit too. "Teleportation" can be taken in a lot of ways. Like, what exactly can she do? And, going off her Other section, she can teleport several cities. Which is pretty ridiculous.
@MrDidact Your character is alright, but you coded the sheet wrong. You're supposed to put the info in between the indent tags lol. Moving on, I think, with his power, he could use some heavier drawbacks/weaknesses. I... feel as if the weaknesses you stated are more in-line with limits than actual drawbacks - but even then, they wouldn't be all that limiting. The power is also pretty stronk. Like, if he can go faster than bullets, then how is anyone supposed to land a hit on him...?
@Aphelion I like Felicia, but I'm wondering if she's a dwarf or not. She's preeeeeeeetty tiny. And I doubt anyone can watch their sister get brutally run over without suffering some mental repercussions - and the same goes for a near-kidnapping experience. Her power is a bit different from what I was expecting, but maybe I can work with it. First, it should be restricted to solid objects... but substances and the sort. Also, what you put in the weaknesses section are limits. Restrictions. I'd like some concrete weaknesses/drawbacks. I can come up with something, just give me some time to think.
That is all. Fix what I have addressed, and maybe we can have some good times.
ToadRopes The Diggersby King
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Basic Information
Name:
Nickname/Alias/Etc:
Gender:
Age:
Height:
Weight:
Home District:
Appearance
Hair Color:
Eye Color:
Ethnicity:
Physical Appearance:
Attire:
Personality
Personality:
Hobbies/Interests:
Skills/Talents:
Prized Possession:
Quote(s):
History/Bio:
Relationships
Family:
Abilities
Power Class:
Power:
Limits:
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Other:
Sample Post:
Mother of pearl, why won’t this plane take off?!
Injae Park, A.K.A. Ratchet (for her mechanical prowess, NOT as a derogatory term) fidgeted in her somewhat-uncomfortable economy-class seat on an American Airlines passenger jet. She was sorely tempted to will the kinetic energy away from one of those baggage-carrier trucks and push it into the airplane; only her knowledge that trying it would give her a hernia kept her from doing just that.
She flicked the wireless switch off her Nintendo 3DS and checked her Pokémon Alpha Sapphire game. The Dusknoir on the bottom screen bobbed up and down as she moved the model of May around the map using her right index finger. A little pastel-pink bubble hovered over Dusknoir’s icon, signaling its desire for cupcakes.
She pulled out her 3DS’s touch stylus from the back of the console; just as she did that, however, she heard a loud DING, announcing the beginning of the safety-and-regulations video that played before every flight. “Thank you for flying American Airlines…” it began.
Ratchet knew all this already. Pull on the straps to inflate the thingy, put all carry-on whatchamacallits in the overhead place. She rolled her eyes and looked casually out the window.
As section leader of her school band’s trumpet section, Ratchet felt that she had a need to memorize the show music. She had stuffed an older version of the show’s opening production in her pocket just to memorize the melody. She pulled it out, unfolded it carefully, and began to hum her part, pinning the sheet to her lap with her flywheel and miming the fingerings with her right hand. Ratchet winced as she heard the wheel creak. Oh, gosh, that was going to annoy people. She would have to oil that. She had convinced her dad to let her take her trumpet on vacation, and she luckily had a bottle of valve oil on her. She could probably use that.
Um, right after they reached a cruising altitude.
Ratchet felt the airplane lurch forward and taxi onto the runway. She looked out the window, away from her opener. The turbines whirled faster and faster, making a high-pitched whine that signified that the plane was soon taking off. Ratchet folded her paper back up and stuck it in her pocket as the plane surged forth, powered by its jet engines.
Finally!
Name:
Injae Park
Nickname/Alias/Etc:
“Ratchet"
Gender:
Female
Age:
17
Height:
5’11"
Weight:
133.3 lbs + 3lbs
Home District:
Westgate, Black Fall, PA; staying in Isabella Isle, Knightsdale Rows
Appearance
Hair Color:
Dark brown with black motor oil stains, especially in the shoulder areas.
Eye Color:
Dark brown
Ethnicity:
Korean
Physical Appearance:
Ratchet has narrow Asian eyes that are turned inward with the tear ducts at about 4 degrees, with round edges and untouched eyelashes. Ratchet has smile lines near her eyes. Ratchet has a nose with a bit of a bulbous tip, with barely-noticeable blackheads that she over-emphasizes almost to the point of it being rather annoying. When she’s amused, her nostrils flare out as she laughs (not cartoonishly large, but just somewhat noticeable), and she doubles over. Her lips are somewhat thin and stoic, although she prefers a slight smile, just to let people know that behind the grime and fiberglass, she’s a human being. Her ears have attached lobes and do not protrude very far from her head. They are shaped somewhat like a blunt “?”. Ratchet does not wear makeup, since she doesn’t see any point if she’s just going to get her face and body all covered in motor oil anyway.
Ratchet usually ties her hair back in a ponytail using a rubber clamp (she claims that it’s the first thing that she found when she first went into the auto shop, and asserts that she doesn’t give an expand dong about it). Sometimes she forgets the clamp on her nightstand and just gets another clamp from the garage (she has a collection of about five clamps, two of which her father has asked her repeatedly to return). Nevertheless, oil does splatter, and it does get in her hair. (Before you ask, Ratchet does take showers, but she often surrounds herself with engines anyway.)
Ratchet has broad shoulders for a girl and toned arms. Her left forearm is missing due to an accident with a semi truck’s engine block. Instead of a left forearm, she has a three-pound fiberglass gauntlet buckled to her left bicep that has a rip-key flywheel attached to a wheel well where her wrist should be. She has to wear a brace to keep the thing lifted up, since she couldn’t find anything sturdier to support the fiberglass prosthetic. She wears the brace around her waist. The flywheel’s key mechanism is made of an old BeyBlade top and part of a shopping cart’s wheel and pivot. Because she has to work harder to lift her left arm due to the weight of the mechanism; as a result, her left arm is slightly thicker with muscle than her right, and she has a bit of a hanging posture. Ratchet quite honestly does not care what size her breasts are, but if she snaps a string or something by accident she’d have to go buy a B-cup brassiere. She usually just hops into a baggy pair of overalls, making hip/rear size somewhat irrelevant in public, although she does have a typical Korean lower-body type, with bulbous calves and horseradish-shaped thighs (albeit somewhat stretched for her height). She wears size 8 shoes.
Underneath her right breast, below her armpit, Ratchet has a long splotchy birthmark that you could see if you strain to see it (please don’t, first of all, it isn’t that important, second, looking for a birthmark under a boob isn’t the quickest way to a good relationship with anybody). Generally she will have grease spots and oil splatters on her skin all over the place, and will likely smell like gasoline for most of her day. (True friends would like her whether she smelled like a diesel engine or not.)
Ratchet shaves her legs, like, once in a blue moon, since she sees no reason to due to her overalls.
Ratchet usually ties her hair back in a ponytail using a rubber clamp (she claims that it’s the first thing that she found when she first went into the auto shop, and asserts that she doesn’t give an expand dong about it). Sometimes she forgets the clamp on her nightstand and just gets another clamp from the garage (she has a collection of about five clamps, two of which her father has asked her repeatedly to return). Nevertheless, oil does splatter, and it does get in her hair. (Before you ask, Ratchet does take showers, but she often surrounds herself with engines anyway.)
Ratchet has broad shoulders for a girl and toned arms. Her left forearm is missing due to an accident with a semi truck’s engine block. Instead of a left forearm, she has a three-pound fiberglass gauntlet buckled to her left bicep that has a rip-key flywheel attached to a wheel well where her wrist should be. She has to wear a brace to keep the thing lifted up, since she couldn’t find anything sturdier to support the fiberglass prosthetic. She wears the brace around her waist. The flywheel’s key mechanism is made of an old BeyBlade top and part of a shopping cart’s wheel and pivot. Because she has to work harder to lift her left arm due to the weight of the mechanism; as a result, her left arm is slightly thicker with muscle than her right, and she has a bit of a hanging posture. Ratchet quite honestly does not care what size her breasts are, but if she snaps a string or something by accident she’d have to go buy a B-cup brassiere. She usually just hops into a baggy pair of overalls, making hip/rear size somewhat irrelevant in public, although she does have a typical Korean lower-body type, with bulbous calves and horseradish-shaped thighs (albeit somewhat stretched for her height). She wears size 8 shoes.
Underneath her right breast, below her armpit, Ratchet has a long splotchy birthmark that you could see if you strain to see it (please don’t, first of all, it isn’t that important, second, looking for a birthmark under a boob isn’t the quickest way to a good relationship with anybody). Generally she will have grease spots and oil splatters on her skin all over the place, and will likely smell like gasoline for most of her day. (True friends would like her whether she smelled like a diesel engine or not.)
Ratchet shaves her legs, like, once in a blue moon, since she sees no reason to due to her overalls.
Attire:
Usually, Ratchet just throws on a underwear, a shirt, and some grease-stained, baggy overalls before going about her day. (She likes overalls because she finds the belly pouch very, very useful.) Instead of having pockets, Ratchet wraps a tool belt around her waist that contains the objects that she needs for the day. She has a philosophy of always carrying a wrench and a screwdriver, but whatever else she’s got in there depends on what she’s going out to do. Sometimes she just leaves with a tin of Altoids, her Nintendo 3DS (you never know where you could get a StreetPass), and her wrench and screwdriver.
Ratchet only wears short-sleeved T-shirts because of the need to accommodate her prosthetic left forearm, which has, at the end of the wrist, a flywheel instead of a false hand (the reason for which I will explain later). She has a variety of different colors and patterns, some with logos or designs or images upon them (she has a particularly-worn, somewhat grease-stained Pikachu shirt) that she picks based on the first one on top of the pile in the dresser drawer. Her dark-blue denim overalls have several large grease spots, especially in her chest area and thighs. The overalls have a sizable pocket, about 7” tall and 11” wide. She has a pair of black Converse All-stars with no laces that she always wears (except to band concerts and other formal occasions, in which her attire in general will be formal as a whole), and may or may not put on socks depending on the potential for jeopardy that she could put her foot in that day. If she does decide to do so, she will put on a not-necessarily-matching pair of Hanes socks. She has both white and black socks, and doesn’t give a shake of a wrench to whether or not they’re the same color.
Ratchet only wears short-sleeved T-shirts because of the need to accommodate her prosthetic left forearm, which has, at the end of the wrist, a flywheel instead of a false hand (the reason for which I will explain later). She has a variety of different colors and patterns, some with logos or designs or images upon them (she has a particularly-worn, somewhat grease-stained Pikachu shirt) that she picks based on the first one on top of the pile in the dresser drawer. Her dark-blue denim overalls have several large grease spots, especially in her chest area and thighs. The overalls have a sizable pocket, about 7” tall and 11” wide. She has a pair of black Converse All-stars with no laces that she always wears (except to band concerts and other formal occasions, in which her attire in general will be formal as a whole), and may or may not put on socks depending on the potential for jeopardy that she could put her foot in that day. If she does decide to do so, she will put on a not-necessarily-matching pair of Hanes socks. She has both white and black socks, and doesn’t give a shake of a wrench to whether or not they’re the same color.
Personality
Personality:
Ratchet is always focused on a task at hand (only her right one, since she doesn’t have a left), when she has one. She will relentlessly pursue a task, but can become focused solely on that task and not much else. (Fortunately, she does not suffer from functional fixedness.) Nevertheless, her work ethic and passion make her an all-the-better fit for the auto shop. Ratchet is passionate about cars and how they work.
Despite having suffered an injury that led to an amputated left forearm, she seems quite mellow about it, and even makes several hand jokes. When not working seriously on something, Ratchet is chill and calm. She sits with her lanky legs out and her arms wrapped around the back of her chair’s seat. Ratchet has a small tic in which she’ll play around with a bolt on her prosthetic, twirling her right index finger around it clockwise. She may fidget, and once or twice check her Instagram or tumblr or something. She often gets wrapped up in sports if she watches them, especially soccer. However, she’s willing to snap right back to work when she is needed.
Ratchet talks about a variety of subjects, such as Doctor Who or Pokémon, and subscribes to shofu’s YouTube channel. She has an appreciation for a variety of different fandoms and/or published works (including the famed Moby-Dick) and has an appreciation for dank memes. She posts often to tumblr, mostly in the form of sketches that she takes crummy iPhone pics of. She’s not quick to pick a fight, but if she hears them fightin’ words tho, she lets her flywheel rip and holds it up as if preparing to rub tire tracks all over the perpetrator’s face. She doesn’t give a crap about the negative connotation within gender that her nickname has acquired in modern times, since she knows that it means a kind of wrench (Nurse Ratched in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest bothers her a little, though).
In terms of interpersonal relationships, Ratchet certainly likes to talk to people who share any of her interests. She does not get bored with people, and actually has social interactions, contrary to the rumors that spread about her affinity for automobiles. Yes, she enjoys fixing up a car with her papa, but really, people? Ratchet’s all about motors, and that applies to her speech as well; she’s a total motor-mouth. Get her talking about cars, and you’re going to be there for a while. Ratchet, however, is persistent in trying to maintain a person’s attention upon her, and can be a bit pushy or demanding. She never means harm.
Despite having suffered an injury that led to an amputated left forearm, she seems quite mellow about it, and even makes several hand jokes. When not working seriously on something, Ratchet is chill and calm. She sits with her lanky legs out and her arms wrapped around the back of her chair’s seat. Ratchet has a small tic in which she’ll play around with a bolt on her prosthetic, twirling her right index finger around it clockwise. She may fidget, and once or twice check her Instagram or tumblr or something. She often gets wrapped up in sports if she watches them, especially soccer. However, she’s willing to snap right back to work when she is needed.
Ratchet talks about a variety of subjects, such as Doctor Who or Pokémon, and subscribes to shofu’s YouTube channel. She has an appreciation for a variety of different fandoms and/or published works (including the famed Moby-Dick) and has an appreciation for dank memes. She posts often to tumblr, mostly in the form of sketches that she takes crummy iPhone pics of. She’s not quick to pick a fight, but if she hears them fightin’ words tho, she lets her flywheel rip and holds it up as if preparing to rub tire tracks all over the perpetrator’s face. She doesn’t give a crap about the negative connotation within gender that her nickname has acquired in modern times, since she knows that it means a kind of wrench (Nurse Ratched in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest bothers her a little, though).
In terms of interpersonal relationships, Ratchet certainly likes to talk to people who share any of her interests. She does not get bored with people, and actually has social interactions, contrary to the rumors that spread about her affinity for automobiles. Yes, she enjoys fixing up a car with her papa, but really, people? Ratchet’s all about motors, and that applies to her speech as well; she’s a total motor-mouth. Get her talking about cars, and you’re going to be there for a while. Ratchet, however, is persistent in trying to maintain a person’s attention upon her, and can be a bit pushy or demanding. She never means harm.
Hobbies/Interests:
Model-making (especially cars), video games (especially Mario Kart), drawing (thankfully, she didn’t lose her writing hand!), auto repair, trumpet.
She loves putting model cars together; she finds the entire experience, from cutting out the pieces to piecing them in place to painting and lacquering the whole thing, very rewarding and quite calming.
She’s an ace at Mario Kart, and loves to pick either Toad or Rosalina. She bought both Mario Kart 8 packs and likes the City Tripper and Circuit Special the best out of the kart bodies. She often gets first, but isn’t too fazed by losing. (But she sucks at League of Legends, unlike most of her Korean brethren, including her brother Winston.)
Mostly she just has time for quick sketches and gestures, but if she has time to sit still and draw, she’ll do it.
Ratchet often helps out in her father’s garage, repairing cars for the people of Black Fall. Since she discovered her power, she found it a whole lot easier to help out since she can flick her wrist and bring a dolly with tools over (okay, that’s not exactly how her power works, see the section on her power).
Ratchet, despite having only a single arm, loves to play the trumpet, and had to develop several strategies for maintaining proper intonation without the ability to use her trumpet’s mini-tuning-slide. She plays popular songs and video-game music she finds on the Internet, but also owns a concerto book. She’s been second chair in her school’s top wind ensemble, and the section leader graduated last year, so she’s practicing to be chosen as first chair. (She refuses to touch other people’s instruments. Ew!) She was given a trumpet solo in this year’s marching band field show opener, and is enthralled to be able to play it.
She loves putting model cars together; she finds the entire experience, from cutting out the pieces to piecing them in place to painting and lacquering the whole thing, very rewarding and quite calming.
She’s an ace at Mario Kart, and loves to pick either Toad or Rosalina. She bought both Mario Kart 8 packs and likes the City Tripper and Circuit Special the best out of the kart bodies. She often gets first, but isn’t too fazed by losing. (But she sucks at League of Legends, unlike most of her Korean brethren, including her brother Winston.)
Mostly she just has time for quick sketches and gestures, but if she has time to sit still and draw, she’ll do it.
Ratchet often helps out in her father’s garage, repairing cars for the people of Black Fall. Since she discovered her power, she found it a whole lot easier to help out since she can flick her wrist and bring a dolly with tools over (okay, that’s not exactly how her power works, see the section on her power).
Ratchet, despite having only a single arm, loves to play the trumpet, and had to develop several strategies for maintaining proper intonation without the ability to use her trumpet’s mini-tuning-slide. She plays popular songs and video-game music she finds on the Internet, but also owns a concerto book. She’s been second chair in her school’s top wind ensemble, and the section leader graduated last year, so she’s practicing to be chosen as first chair. (She refuses to touch other people’s instruments. Ew!) She was given a trumpet solo in this year’s marching band field show opener, and is enthralled to be able to play it.
Skills/Talents:
When rollerblading, she can do a special trick in which she twists her left arm and uses the flywheel to do a 360-degree turn. She looks a little awkward while doing it, however, and whether or not that can be called a talent is debatable. Ratchet has exceptional talent in the arts and humanities, and an advanced understanding of single-variable calculus, but kind of glazes over in any life-science topics. She can hold her breath for seven minutes and twenty-eight seconds, and quite literally cartwheel. To compensate for the loss of her left hand, her right hand has become extremely deft, and allows Ratchet to perform card tricks with ease, as well as other delicate tasks.
Ratchet is, however, a bit of a wild driver (habits from experience in playing Mario Kart). For this reason, she has a smaller, more maneuverable car, an old Fiat 500 with a Bluetooth music player bolted to the dash and an iPhone charger plugged into the cigarette lighter (because she’d rather charge her phone than smoke). She and her dad worked on improving the 500’s suspension system in order to keep it from sustaining damage from Ratchet’s driving. She hasn’t gotten killed yet, though, so that’s a plus.
Ratchet is, however, a bit of a wild driver (habits from experience in playing Mario Kart). For this reason, she has a smaller, more maneuverable car, an old Fiat 500 with a Bluetooth music player bolted to the dash and an iPhone charger plugged into the cigarette lighter (because she’d rather charge her phone than smoke). She and her dad worked on improving the 500’s suspension system in order to keep it from sustaining damage from Ratchet’s driving. She hasn’t gotten killed yet, though, so that’s a plus.
Prized Possession:
Her wrench and screwdriver, which were given to her mother the last Christmas before her mother’s death (2008).
Quote(s):
”An object at rest will remain at rest unless acted upon by an outside force. You know, like myself.”
“You can call me pushy. That’s really not too far from the truth.”
“I still manage to be pretty handy around the auto shop, despite… you know.”
“It’d probably take a blue shell, a red shell, and a Bullet Bill to get me in a car crash."
“You can call me pushy. That’s really not too far from the truth.”
“I still manage to be pretty handy around the auto shop, despite… you know.”
“It’d probably take a blue shell, a red shell, and a Bullet Bill to get me in a car crash."
History/Bio:
Injae Park, AKA Ratchet, is a first-generation Korean-American born to Jehyun and Evan Park on March 10, 1998. In her younger, more vulnerable years, Injae (known affectionately as “Ratchet” to her father Evan due to her curious habit of twisting objects) had a curious mind and a tactile style of behavior. Until she was about nine, Ratchet lived in the town of Amherst, MA, before moving to Black Fall. She plans to return there for college if she applies and gets in. As a child, Ratchet spent a lot of time in her father’s garage, simply playing around with whichever spare part happened to lie right next to her. (Her father, responsibly, kept her out of the way of any cars he worked on, at least until she was mature enough to have the sense not to herp-a-derp knock over a Ford Mustang’s engine and crack her skull open.)
Ratchet’s power of kinetokinesis first came to light in kindergarten, when, dissatisfied with the slow speed of one of those Fisher-Price backyard mini-coasters, she willed the coaster to move faster and accidentally caused a boy to fall off the swings by immediately removing his kinetic energy and forcing gravity to start over with him. Suffice it to say, she made the little cart move a bit too fast and launched herself into a chain-link fence, breaking her own leg.
Quickly, the paramedics rushed Ratchet to the emergency room, where they informed the Parks of an abnormality in Ratchet’s DNA, indicative of a Meta-human. Suffice it to say, they were required by law to register Ratchet in the NEST database. Of course, neither of the Parks were happy that Ratchet was being treated like a convicted felon. The bureaucrats, however, allowed the Parks to stay in Amherst until any noticeable development occurred in Ratchet’s powers (under strict scrutiny, of course). (Perhaps the fact that Ratchet freaking broke her leg helped them with their discretion.)
Ratchet managed to live a fairly normal life, although awareness of her powers allowed her to experiment with them. For instance, she would roll a Hot Wheels die-cast car across the garage floor and stop it with a motion, before causing another Hot Wheels car to move using that same kinetic energy. She continued to hang around her father’s garage, and her father even began to teach her the ropes of auto repair.
Ratchet’s mother was diagnosed with leukemia in 2006; she lost the battle to cancer in 2008, but lived to see her daughter hit puberty and begin to blossom into a good, strong young woman. Mrs. Park knew, and appreciated, Ratchet’s love for machines, and acknowledged Ratchet’s desire to help her, even though she knew that Ratchet couldn’t. She knew she was terminal by the time December came in 2008, and rushed to buy Ratchet her treasured wrench and screwdriver before finally passing.
Ratchet lost her arm in 2010, when she was in seventh grade. Her father, sleepily working on a Peterbilt’s engine, jerked a winch too hard. Unfortunately, the cables were too worn-out to support the sudden movement, and the engine fell, banging a corner and shattering Ratchet’s left arm, right below the elbow. Miraculously, the engine block spared Ratchet’s left arm’s joint, but the doctors had to amputate everything below that. To make it up to her, her father resolved to build her prosthetic himself, with Ratchet’s input. By this point, Ratchet knew a lot more about her power over kinetic energy, and discussed plans with her father about her prosthetic limb. They didn’t have the technology available to the public then to create artificial neurons and therefore neural connections to a prosthetic hand, but that didn’t stop Ratchet and her father from crafting a metal forearm from a shopping cart, a BeyBlade (or two, since they accidentally snapped the first one trying to fit it into the wheel well), and three pounds of fiberglass.
2011 proved a turning point in terms of Ratchet’s powers, since that was the year that she took a physical science course and learned about the conservation of energy, and gained a fuller, more in-depth understanding of her abilities. (Knowledge of her powers certainly made the class a lot easier, more so than that ruddy life-science garbage.) Curious Ratchet continued to experiment with the mechanics of her ability, and even learned to play video games using her power, manipulating the control stick or D-pad with little bursts of energy from her flywheel arm. (She was SO glad when Nintendo included the 3DS stand accessory with Kid Icarus: Uprising!)
Eventually, Mr. Park had to move his business from Amherst to Black Fall because of Ratchet’s developing power over kinetic energy. There, she attended high school, having a generally normal life at school and helping her father in the garage at home (while keeping up with her homework; Koreans have standards!). She took marching band, concert band, and auto shop, waiving out of foreign language due to her proficiency in Korean. She just finished her AP Physics 1 and AP English Language and Composition classes, crossing her fingers that she would get 5’s.
After her pre-summer band camp, Ratchet, with her family, left for Verthaven, planning to stay for about a month. (The fact that one of the districts in Verthaven shared the name of one of her favorite video game characters quite amused her.) Primarily, she is visiting her family, and they are staying with their father’s sister, who has a daughter younger than Ratchet.
Ratchet’s power of kinetokinesis first came to light in kindergarten, when, dissatisfied with the slow speed of one of those Fisher-Price backyard mini-coasters, she willed the coaster to move faster and accidentally caused a boy to fall off the swings by immediately removing his kinetic energy and forcing gravity to start over with him. Suffice it to say, she made the little cart move a bit too fast and launched herself into a chain-link fence, breaking her own leg.
Quickly, the paramedics rushed Ratchet to the emergency room, where they informed the Parks of an abnormality in Ratchet’s DNA, indicative of a Meta-human. Suffice it to say, they were required by law to register Ratchet in the NEST database. Of course, neither of the Parks were happy that Ratchet was being treated like a convicted felon. The bureaucrats, however, allowed the Parks to stay in Amherst until any noticeable development occurred in Ratchet’s powers (under strict scrutiny, of course). (Perhaps the fact that Ratchet freaking broke her leg helped them with their discretion.)
Ratchet managed to live a fairly normal life, although awareness of her powers allowed her to experiment with them. For instance, she would roll a Hot Wheels die-cast car across the garage floor and stop it with a motion, before causing another Hot Wheels car to move using that same kinetic energy. She continued to hang around her father’s garage, and her father even began to teach her the ropes of auto repair.
Ratchet’s mother was diagnosed with leukemia in 2006; she lost the battle to cancer in 2008, but lived to see her daughter hit puberty and begin to blossom into a good, strong young woman. Mrs. Park knew, and appreciated, Ratchet’s love for machines, and acknowledged Ratchet’s desire to help her, even though she knew that Ratchet couldn’t. She knew she was terminal by the time December came in 2008, and rushed to buy Ratchet her treasured wrench and screwdriver before finally passing.
Ratchet lost her arm in 2010, when she was in seventh grade. Her father, sleepily working on a Peterbilt’s engine, jerked a winch too hard. Unfortunately, the cables were too worn-out to support the sudden movement, and the engine fell, banging a corner and shattering Ratchet’s left arm, right below the elbow. Miraculously, the engine block spared Ratchet’s left arm’s joint, but the doctors had to amputate everything below that. To make it up to her, her father resolved to build her prosthetic himself, with Ratchet’s input. By this point, Ratchet knew a lot more about her power over kinetic energy, and discussed plans with her father about her prosthetic limb. They didn’t have the technology available to the public then to create artificial neurons and therefore neural connections to a prosthetic hand, but that didn’t stop Ratchet and her father from crafting a metal forearm from a shopping cart, a BeyBlade (or two, since they accidentally snapped the first one trying to fit it into the wheel well), and three pounds of fiberglass.
2011 proved a turning point in terms of Ratchet’s powers, since that was the year that she took a physical science course and learned about the conservation of energy, and gained a fuller, more in-depth understanding of her abilities. (Knowledge of her powers certainly made the class a lot easier, more so than that ruddy life-science garbage.) Curious Ratchet continued to experiment with the mechanics of her ability, and even learned to play video games using her power, manipulating the control stick or D-pad with little bursts of energy from her flywheel arm. (She was SO glad when Nintendo included the 3DS stand accessory with Kid Icarus: Uprising!)
Eventually, Mr. Park had to move his business from Amherst to Black Fall because of Ratchet’s developing power over kinetic energy. There, she attended high school, having a generally normal life at school and helping her father in the garage at home (while keeping up with her homework; Koreans have standards!). She took marching band, concert band, and auto shop, waiving out of foreign language due to her proficiency in Korean. She just finished her AP Physics 1 and AP English Language and Composition classes, crossing her fingers that she would get 5’s.
After her pre-summer band camp, Ratchet, with her family, left for Verthaven, planning to stay for about a month. (The fact that one of the districts in Verthaven shared the name of one of her favorite video game characters quite amused her.) Primarily, she is visiting her family, and they are staying with their father’s sister, who has a daughter younger than Ratchet.
Relationships
Family:
Evan Park—Father
Jehyun Lee Park—Mother (deceased)
Winston Park—Brother
Sonmi Kim—Aunt
Kate Kim—Cousin
Dynamics:
Evan Park | Familial Love | Father | ”Dad might be cluttered, overworked, and a little on the dopey side, but he’s still my dad, there for me every time. I mean, know any other dads that’ll make you a prosthetic out of a BeyBlade?”
Winston Park | Classic Brother-Sister Love/Annoy Relationship | Younger Brother | ”Sometimes I’m tempted to let my wheel fly and drag Winnie, in his chair, away from his little League of Legends game. Mostly ‘cause that’s all he talks about.”
Sonmi Kim | Cool Aunt | ”I think awesomeness runs in the family whenever I see my aunt.”
Kate Kim | High Positive Regard | ”Always, always look forward to seeing good old Kate. She’s a lovely younger cousin, and I like playing with her. Though she shouldn’t mess with my trumpet stuff…”
Jehyun Lee Park—Mother (deceased)
Winston Park—Brother
Sonmi Kim—Aunt
Kate Kim—Cousin
Dynamics:
Evan Park | Familial Love | Father | ”Dad might be cluttered, overworked, and a little on the dopey side, but he’s still my dad, there for me every time. I mean, know any other dads that’ll make you a prosthetic out of a BeyBlade?”
Winston Park | Classic Brother-Sister Love/Annoy Relationship | Younger Brother | ”Sometimes I’m tempted to let my wheel fly and drag Winnie, in his chair, away from his little League of Legends game. Mostly ‘cause that’s all he talks about.”
Sonmi Kim | Cool Aunt | ”I think awesomeness runs in the family whenever I see my aunt.”
Kate Kim | High Positive Regard | ”Always, always look forward to seeing good old Kate. She’s a lovely younger cousin, and I like playing with her. Though she shouldn’t mess with my trumpet stuff…”
Abilities
Power Class:
Elemental (Energy)
Power:
Kinetokinesis: The ability to control a body of mass’s potential energy and transform it into kinetic energy. She can manipulate another body's kinetic energy to transform that potential energy, essentially giving an object an indirect “shove.” To do this, she can take energy from a different, moving body, or a moving part of a body of mass, and transfer it to a different, resting body. This, however, causes the moving body from which Ratchet leaches the kinetic energy to come to a stop, its movement converted back to potential energy.
Ratchet can therefore use her power to make an engine turn or a motor run by focusing her power upon a shaft, cog, or piston. She finds it easier to move the internal mechanisms of an engine rather than an entire car or bus because of the complexity of the machine and the fact that if she tried to use her power to move the car itself there would be a horrible grinding noise that signified the destruction of the engine (learned that the hard way).
Ratchet is well aware that energy cannot be created or destroyed, only changed; the loss of her left arm both hindered her and helped her. Instead of opting for a fake hand or a hook or something, Ratchet instead had a metal forearm with a flywheel embedded in the wrist joint installed into her arm. Ratchet found it somewhat difficult to construct the flywheel mechanism with only one hand to work with, but with a couple old BeyBlades and some help from her father, she could pull (get it?) off the job.
tooconfusing;didn'tunderstand: She moves stuff by making other things stop moving.
Ratchet can therefore use her power to make an engine turn or a motor run by focusing her power upon a shaft, cog, or piston. She finds it easier to move the internal mechanisms of an engine rather than an entire car or bus because of the complexity of the machine and the fact that if she tried to use her power to move the car itself there would be a horrible grinding noise that signified the destruction of the engine (learned that the hard way).
Ratchet is well aware that energy cannot be created or destroyed, only changed; the loss of her left arm both hindered her and helped her. Instead of opting for a fake hand or a hook or something, Ratchet instead had a metal forearm with a flywheel embedded in the wrist joint installed into her arm. Ratchet found it somewhat difficult to construct the flywheel mechanism with only one hand to work with, but with a couple old BeyBlades and some help from her father, she could pull (get it?) off the job.
tooconfusing;didn'tunderstand: She moves stuff by making other things stop moving.
Limits:
In the very simplest terms: inertia, the tendency for an object at rest to remain at rest. In order for Ratchet to properly use her ability, she must overcome the inertia of that body with enough kinetic energy. Otherwise, she might as well try and move a brick wall.
Ratchet cannot obtain kinetic energy from too many sources at once, which is why she can’t just snap her fingers and have the kinetic energy of the air itself at her disposal (also, that would probably kill someone). She compensates for this with her flywheel; contrary to what you may think, however, this does not provide Ratchet an endless supply of movement, since that would be both OP and scientifically inaccurate.
Ratchet also has to deal with the force of friction, which prevents her from being a perpetual motion generator. To keep a body constantly moving, she must re-spin her left arm’s flywheel and continually transfer energy into the body, like shoveling coal into a steam locomotive’s boiler. She may be able to compensate for this for a while, but for larger objects this proves a problem. Ratchet’s ability is inversely proportional to the mass of the body she tries to use her ability on, even if she does have the flywheel which can activate kinetic energy for her to use.
One thing to note: this power does NOT mean levitation. Whenever asked if she could levitate things, Ratchet scoffs and asks if the questioner knows the basic laws of physics. She can’t defy gravity. The least she can do is constantly remove kinetic energy, but even then she can’t keep up with gravitational acceleration.
Ratchet cannot obtain kinetic energy from too many sources at once, which is why she can’t just snap her fingers and have the kinetic energy of the air itself at her disposal (also, that would probably kill someone). She compensates for this with her flywheel; contrary to what you may think, however, this does not provide Ratchet an endless supply of movement, since that would be both OP and scientifically inaccurate.
Ratchet also has to deal with the force of friction, which prevents her from being a perpetual motion generator. To keep a body constantly moving, she must re-spin her left arm’s flywheel and continually transfer energy into the body, like shoveling coal into a steam locomotive’s boiler. She may be able to compensate for this for a while, but for larger objects this proves a problem. Ratchet’s ability is inversely proportional to the mass of the body she tries to use her ability on, even if she does have the flywheel which can activate kinetic energy for her to use.
One thing to note: this power does NOT mean levitation. Whenever asked if she could levitate things, Ratchet scoffs and asks if the questioner knows the basic laws of physics. She can’t defy gravity. The least she can do is constantly remove kinetic energy, but even then she can’t keep up with gravitational acceleration.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Attempts to use her power on massive objects will result in cramping; overexertion will cause Ratchet to pull a muscle. This is because the energy that she indirectly exerts must overcome the body’s inertia, as explained above. Also, Ratchet will become tired if she has to keep yanking the flywheel’s rip key over and over again; this gets progressively worse as the object she tries to move increases in mass.
Other:
Sample Post:
Mother of pearl, why won’t this plane take off?!
Injae Park, A.K.A. Ratchet (for her mechanical prowess, NOT as a derogatory term) fidgeted in her somewhat-uncomfortable economy-class seat on an American Airlines passenger jet. She was sorely tempted to will the kinetic energy away from one of those baggage-carrier trucks and push it into the airplane; only her knowledge that trying it would give her a hernia kept her from doing just that.
She flicked the wireless switch off her Nintendo 3DS and checked her Pokémon Alpha Sapphire game. The Dusknoir on the bottom screen bobbed up and down as she moved the model of May around the map using her right index finger. A little pastel-pink bubble hovered over Dusknoir’s icon, signaling its desire for cupcakes.
She pulled out her 3DS’s touch stylus from the back of the console; just as she did that, however, she heard a loud DING, announcing the beginning of the safety-and-regulations video that played before every flight. “Thank you for flying American Airlines…” it began.
Ratchet knew all this already. Pull on the straps to inflate the thingy, put all carry-on whatchamacallits in the overhead place. She rolled her eyes and looked casually out the window.
As section leader of her school band’s trumpet section, Ratchet felt that she had a need to memorize the show music. She had stuffed an older version of the show’s opening production in her pocket just to memorize the melody. She pulled it out, unfolded it carefully, and began to hum her part, pinning the sheet to her lap with her flywheel and miming the fingerings with her right hand. Ratchet winced as she heard the wheel creak. Oh, gosh, that was going to annoy people. She would have to oil that. She had convinced her dad to let her take her trumpet on vacation, and she luckily had a bottle of valve oil on her. She could probably use that.
Um, right after they reached a cruising altitude.
Ratchet felt the airplane lurch forward and taxi onto the runway. She looked out the window, away from her opener. The turbines whirled faster and faster, making a high-pitched whine that signified that the plane was soon taking off. Ratchet folded her paper back up and stuck it in her pocket as the plane surged forth, powered by its jet engines.
Finally!
coGM
Luminous Beings Not Greg.
Member
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8 mos ago
Okay, I have feedback on these sheets, it's going to take me a while to get through to all of them but I'll try to in the next few minutes
coGM
Luminous Beings Not Greg.
Member
Seen
8 mos ago
SepticGentleman
I'm not sure that level of facial scarring is even possible. Becoming that disfigured and not getting it fixed...you'd have to have a reason. I don't think he's fleshed out enough in terms of morality/personality/etc, as he and the other character mainly just seem to be there for the purpose of killing metahumans. His appearance is pretty barebones, as is his personality. If these guys are NPCs that's one thing but if you're planning on using these characters we're gonna have to see some more detail. Why would he sustain these injuries and not seek out a plastic surgeon? What injuries caused him to look like that? Etc, etc. Having disfigurement as serious as he has, you'd expect significant lifestyle changes...surgery, voice therapy, etc, etc.
Didos
Physical appearance is going to need to be expounded upon some more, it's too short. For suggestions you could have voice, gait, build, distinguishing features, etc, etc. Personality is at a good start but I'd enjoy seeing more here as well-Verthaven's a dangerous city, and to the economically-minded, it might be a better investment to go somewhere that's got less risk, what with all those gangs running around. Is there another reason she's in Verthaven? What drove her to become a dealer? If she's successful enough to afford yachting, etc, then she must be relatively well-known on the streets-how does she balance a criminal lifestyle with an upper-class one? So on and so forth. You touch on this on the bio, but I'd enjoy seeing a little more detail there as well. As for her powers, it seems like her drugs would fuel her abilities-if so, is she an addict? A high-functioning one, but an addict nonetheless? Teleportation can be a very destructive power if used properly so I'd like to see a few more drawbacks to it. If she's reliant upon her own supply, that could be one such weaknesses. Consider limitations in range and "cooldown" as well, i.e. using it in succession is exponentially more draining, so if she tries to flicker back and forth during a fight she'll burn herself out fairly quickly.
MrDidact
Little more on the appearance would be good, personality and history are good. Unfortunately, super-speed is an incredibly powerful ability. He can pretty much blitz anything and, with the accelerated velocity, kill pretty much anyone effortlessly. Naturally, this is kind of problematic. It's going to need to be toned down in order to be accepted. A suggestion would be removing his immunity to his own speed; in other words, he doesn't have the resistance to friction, wind shear, durability, etc, that he currently has. As such, he accelerates faster and faster at his own risk. We'd be okay with his power on that condition. He would need more concrete weaknesses, regardless, as a few of his weaknesses are mixed blessings and not outright weaknesses: not noticing injuries can be a blessing (and a curse, granted), as can the heightened brain function. Remove the faster brain function, make him vulnerable to his own speed, and he'd be okay. Additionally, it should take a pretty heavy metabolic toll-if he's going fast enough to dodge bullets, his body should run out of energy to sustain that relatively quickly. You could consider, instead of having the heightened brain function, it's something he can switch on and off. So he has normal reflexes until he decides to activate his powers. This would get rid of that problem and also help ground him out a bit more, as it'd make him vulnerable to surprise attacks and such.
Felicia
First, if you're going to have martial arts as a talent, that's okay, but just be aware that standing at 4'6 and 86 lbs, there is no amount of martial arts on earth that will save Felicia from getting her ass handed to her by someone who knows what she's doing. Not starting a character dick measuring contest here, just want to make sure we're on the same page-we see a lot of character with "martial arts" as a talent on their pages, and while martial arts are useful...well, everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face. She can be trained and have excellent technique, but she's also 4'6. Even with skill, size and strength can't be entirely ignored, and when a lot of people have 1-1.5 feet and 100+ pounds on your character, she's going to be very limited in what she can do. Her size is also something of a concern-I'm not sure if that's dwarfism exactly, but is there a reason? If you want a small character that's perfectly fine, but if it's the result of nutritional deficiencies or a genetic issue then we just want to be sure. There should also be a little more explanation of the psychological effects of seeing what happened to her friend, most people don't shrug that off.
As for her power. This is a really cool power, but object manipulation is very open-ended and incredibly strong without more limitations. Can she talk a pistol into flipping its safety on when someone's about to shoot her? Or convince a hand grenade to pull its pin? Or talk a car into cutting its brake wires? Etc, etc. Just being able to talk to inanimate objects would be more acceptable-honestly, I think with a power like that you wouldn't even need a weakness (beyond the psychological grievances of having to talk with everything/never being alone), but being able to manipulate objects outright is very strong. Willing to be manipulated isn't a suitable weakness as, well, no offense, you'd be the one determining whether or not they were willing. Adjusting their strength is also out of the question, as she could throw a pebble at someone and make it hit with the force of a .50 cal round. I really admire the creativity, but it's an incredibly strong power and needs to get toned down quite a bit.
Toad
Ratchet seems good thus far, but I'll be totally honest, I'm not really sure what her power does. I never took physics, so yeah, this one is probably on me. If you could describe it in a different way, maybe, I'd be able to give feedback. Excellent sheet otherwise
I'm not sure that level of facial scarring is even possible. Becoming that disfigured and not getting it fixed...you'd have to have a reason. I don't think he's fleshed out enough in terms of morality/personality/etc, as he and the other character mainly just seem to be there for the purpose of killing metahumans. His appearance is pretty barebones, as is his personality. If these guys are NPCs that's one thing but if you're planning on using these characters we're gonna have to see some more detail. Why would he sustain these injuries and not seek out a plastic surgeon? What injuries caused him to look like that? Etc, etc. Having disfigurement as serious as he has, you'd expect significant lifestyle changes...surgery, voice therapy, etc, etc.
Didos
Physical appearance is going to need to be expounded upon some more, it's too short. For suggestions you could have voice, gait, build, distinguishing features, etc, etc. Personality is at a good start but I'd enjoy seeing more here as well-Verthaven's a dangerous city, and to the economically-minded, it might be a better investment to go somewhere that's got less risk, what with all those gangs running around. Is there another reason she's in Verthaven? What drove her to become a dealer? If she's successful enough to afford yachting, etc, then she must be relatively well-known on the streets-how does she balance a criminal lifestyle with an upper-class one? So on and so forth. You touch on this on the bio, but I'd enjoy seeing a little more detail there as well. As for her powers, it seems like her drugs would fuel her abilities-if so, is she an addict? A high-functioning one, but an addict nonetheless? Teleportation can be a very destructive power if used properly so I'd like to see a few more drawbacks to it. If she's reliant upon her own supply, that could be one such weaknesses. Consider limitations in range and "cooldown" as well, i.e. using it in succession is exponentially more draining, so if she tries to flicker back and forth during a fight she'll burn herself out fairly quickly.
MrDidact
Little more on the appearance would be good, personality and history are good. Unfortunately, super-speed is an incredibly powerful ability. He can pretty much blitz anything and, with the accelerated velocity, kill pretty much anyone effortlessly. Naturally, this is kind of problematic. It's going to need to be toned down in order to be accepted. A suggestion would be removing his immunity to his own speed; in other words, he doesn't have the resistance to friction, wind shear, durability, etc, that he currently has. As such, he accelerates faster and faster at his own risk. We'd be okay with his power on that condition. He would need more concrete weaknesses, regardless, as a few of his weaknesses are mixed blessings and not outright weaknesses: not noticing injuries can be a blessing (and a curse, granted), as can the heightened brain function. Remove the faster brain function, make him vulnerable to his own speed, and he'd be okay. Additionally, it should take a pretty heavy metabolic toll-if he's going fast enough to dodge bullets, his body should run out of energy to sustain that relatively quickly. You could consider, instead of having the heightened brain function, it's something he can switch on and off. So he has normal reflexes until he decides to activate his powers. This would get rid of that problem and also help ground him out a bit more, as it'd make him vulnerable to surprise attacks and such.
Felicia
First, if you're going to have martial arts as a talent, that's okay, but just be aware that standing at 4'6 and 86 lbs, there is no amount of martial arts on earth that will save Felicia from getting her ass handed to her by someone who knows what she's doing. Not starting a character dick measuring contest here, just want to make sure we're on the same page-we see a lot of character with "martial arts" as a talent on their pages, and while martial arts are useful...well, everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face. She can be trained and have excellent technique, but she's also 4'6. Even with skill, size and strength can't be entirely ignored, and when a lot of people have 1-1.5 feet and 100+ pounds on your character, she's going to be very limited in what she can do. Her size is also something of a concern-I'm not sure if that's dwarfism exactly, but is there a reason? If you want a small character that's perfectly fine, but if it's the result of nutritional deficiencies or a genetic issue then we just want to be sure. There should also be a little more explanation of the psychological effects of seeing what happened to her friend, most people don't shrug that off.
As for her power. This is a really cool power, but object manipulation is very open-ended and incredibly strong without more limitations. Can she talk a pistol into flipping its safety on when someone's about to shoot her? Or convince a hand grenade to pull its pin? Or talk a car into cutting its brake wires? Etc, etc. Just being able to talk to inanimate objects would be more acceptable-honestly, I think with a power like that you wouldn't even need a weakness (beyond the psychological grievances of having to talk with everything/never being alone), but being able to manipulate objects outright is very strong. Willing to be manipulated isn't a suitable weakness as, well, no offense, you'd be the one determining whether or not they were willing. Adjusting their strength is also out of the question, as she could throw a pebble at someone and make it hit with the force of a .50 cal round. I really admire the creativity, but it's an incredibly strong power and needs to get toned down quite a bit.
Toad
Ratchet seems good thus far, but I'll be totally honest, I'm not really sure what her power does. I never took physics, so yeah, this one is probably on me. If you could describe it in a different way, maybe, I'd be able to give feedback. Excellent sheet otherwise
GM
Shin Ghost Note I CHOOSE ME, I'M SORRY
Member
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0-24 hrs ago
@ToadRopes Rachet is pretty solid. I just have to ask that you format her sheet with indents, and the hider (Like the other sheets are). I'm also a bit confused as to what her power does. You explained how it works pretty well, I think, but not what it does. I get the idea that she can cause objects to move, correct?
Avanhelsing
Member
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3 yrs ago
Getting to work soon as I get home.
SepticGentleman 𝙼𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
SepticGentleman
I'm not sure that level of facial scarring is even possible. Becoming that disfigured and not getting it fixed...you'd have to have a reason. I don't think he's fleshed out enough in terms of morality/personality/etc, as he and the other character mainly just seem to be there for the purpose of killing metahumans. His appearance is pretty barebones, as is his personality. If these guys are NPCs that's one thing but if you're planning on using these characters we're gonna have to see some more detail. Why would he sustain these injuries and not seek out a plastic surgeon? What injuries caused him to look like that? Etc, etc. Having disfigurement as serious as he has, you'd expect significant lifestyle changes...surgery, voice therapy, etc, etc.
I love you too, Shade.
I'll beef the thing up later you gross jackal.
SepticGentleman 𝙼𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
git gud, Septic.
SHUT UP, WALNUT.
ToadRopes The Diggersby King
Member
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7 yrs ago
THE EXPAND HAS COME@Mr Allen J@SepticGentlemanBasically, her power moves stuff by making other things stop moving.
GM
Shin Ghost Note I CHOOSE ME, I'M SORRY
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0-24 hrs ago
@ToadRopes Ah, now I get it. She's accepted. You may place her in the character tab.
ToadRopes The Diggersby King
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7 yrs ago
SepticGentleman 𝙼𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎
Member
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2 yrs ago
@ToadRopes You're the first character that has been accepted that isn't bad.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Well now.
Fedested Best Third Wheel
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1 yr ago
@Mr Allen J I expanded the backstory to the present day. If you need me to do any more changes, I'd be happy to comply.
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/81679-verthaven-the-bloody-paradise/ooc?page=2#post-2715588
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/81679-verthaven-the-bloody-paradise/ooc?page=2#post-2715588
GM
Shin Ghost Note I CHOOSE ME, I'M SORRY
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0-24 hrs ago
@Fedested Looks better now, but did you see what He Who Walks Behind said on the other page?
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