ClocktowerEchos

This galaxy isn't yours! (On hiatus)

@6slyboy6Rough spitball idea, but what are your thoughts on a biological race created by a race/group of machines as sort of a pet project but the machine's opinions of their creation increased and eventually took on a part fatherly part godlike role for them? And then the machines where all killed by the humans or died trying to protect the life they created? Reversal of tropes and roles on multiple levels; the attitude of the created life towards the humans would be very much like "Hello. We are legion. You killed our fathers. Prepare to die."

The Gregorian - Imperium (Warhammer 50K RP, The Shape of the Nightmare to Come)

@agentmanateeI'm again on the line; not quite sure as to what to write :\

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

@Sophrus

But Damage Control ARE the kill team.

@Hellis

Don't worry, with any luck, Old Man Henderson's morally unethical shotgun on crack will accidentally go off and shoot them both.
Hell, the shotgun itself might make for a better kill team on its own as is than the two jackasses we have right now.

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

Old Man Henderson

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Name:
Old Man Henderson

Department:
Damage Control (Formerly Human Resources)

Asset Number:
TK-324 H3N.D3r50n

Age:
70s? (Never actually disclosed but he's still as active and fit as someone half his age)

Personality and "Back Story":
Old Man Henderson. The man, the myth, the legend. Or something like that. Without beating around the bush, Old Man Henderson is only a "little" bit crazy, entirely dependent on where and how you judge "a little". His first name was long forgotten, has dyslexia with a mild case of Schizophrenia, enjoying getting high on things that are physically impossible to get high on (not that "reality" ever prevents him form getting high on literally anything), speaks in a nigh on impossible to understand Scottish accent with no idea of "indoor voice", and blames all of his life's misfortunes on the Vietnam War and Ronald Nixon McDonalds. He never actually went to 'Nam and doesn't know that Ronald Nixon McDonalds ins't a real person but three people (one fictional) that he made up one day while getting high on Big Mac sauce

No one actually knows how the fuck Old Man Henderson got into the Illuminati although water cooler rumors say that it had something to do with an Eldritch being who he though stole his lawn gnomes, a yacht, more barrels of Whoop-Ass than is both ethically allowed and humanly possible to contain, a stripper-nun-ninja-cyborg-pirate-cowgirl-whale-riding-viking from Kazakstan, his stuffed parrot named Rupert who still sits on his shoulder, a reincarnated gorilla-jesus and a good old fashion 30-.06 Springfield bolt action thats unfortunately no longer with him. If his backstory sounds random and incomprehensible, its probably because whenever he tells it to someone, its always something different. As of right now there are no less than 28.5 "official" story-rumors circulating on how Old Man Henderson got in (the .5 is because he started but left half way to go chase after a flying fish he sword was wearing a top hat that was actually a hallucination and never finished the story).

He used to be in Human Resources but due to events that no one involved is willing to talk about (not even Old Man Henderson) and got moved to Damage Control. Rumor says that it involved Rupert the stuffed parrot having an affair with the stripper-nun-ninja-cyborg-pirate-cowgirl-whale-riding-viking from Kazakstan. Also, never fuck with his (currently MIA) Lawn Gnomes. He's currently on the hunt for them in a righteous crusade, completely forgetting that he sold them to a pawn shop, got high on a brick and promptly forgetting about it.

Skills:
- Proficent in Kung-Shotgun-Fu
- Memorized the Book of Mormon
- Memorized the Book of Morons
- Memorized the Book of Mormonts
- Memorized the Book of Moors
- Memorized the Book of Morse Code
- Memorized the Book of Morality
- Memorized the Book of Morgan Freeman
- Memorized the Book of Mortarian
- Memorized the Book of Mortal Kombat
- Memorized the Book of Mortgages
- Memorized the Book of Morphine
- Memorized the Book of Mort
- Memorized the Book of Morocco
- Memorized the Book of Maracas
- Memorized the Book of Mana
- Memorized the Book of Morgues
- Memorized the Book of Morphing
- Memorized the Book of More
- Memorized the Book of Mortis
- Memorized the Book of Martyrs
- Memorized the Book of More Magics
- Memorized the Book of Manatees
- Memorized the Book of Mortars
- Memorized the Book of Moratoria
- Memorized the Book of Morphology
- Memorized the Book of Moralizing
- Memorized the actual Book of Mormon
- Casually knows simple sciences like basic chemistry, anatomy and Quantum Physics to name some.
- Speaks Brazilian Portuguese perfectly (but not European Portuguese, he can't speak that at all)
- Conversant/Knowledgeable in several different languages including French, Punjabi, Swahilli, C++, High Gothic, Galatic Basic, Elven and Tree (only oak though).
- Knows the Anarchist's Cookbook by heart
- Has all of the of luck of Las Vegas
- Makes a mean spaghetti and eggs using neither of those ingredients

Equipment and Spells:

Automatic Shotgun with Under Barrel Shotgun that has an Under Barrel Shotgun of its own, Tactical Side-Mounted Shotgun, stock mounted pump action shotgun and long range bolt action shotgun mounted on the other side - The go to weapon for Old Man Henderson and has managed to slay everything from mobsters to voodoo vampires. Has more shotguns jury rigged to it than is both physically possible and morally ethical. Old Man Henderson has been pressured by the Finance Department to reduce the amount of shotguns to save on the cost of shotgun shells but Old Man Henderson has refuted it multiple times stating in his professional opinion: "Nawht 'nuff dakka".

Magic 8-Ball - A Magic 8-Ball. No literally, its just that. Just a normal one with no magic. Old Man Henderson uses this to resolve arguments between him and other people, especially with Rupert the Stuffed Parrot. Also sometimes used to knock people out from a distance, the things are surprisingly effective against skulls when thrown.

Stalinium RPG-7 Warhead - The business end of an RPG-7 without a launcher to fire it from. Old Man Henderson uses it as a close quarters combat weapon. Although its been reported to have exploded multiple times while beign used, Old Man Henderson has never been seen hurt by the "explosion" and the warhead remains unexploded cause some to speculate if its magical or if its just Russian and made of Stalinium.

Baby's First Liber Necronomicon Coloring Book! - Stolen from some cultists who ran an orphanage in southern Romania, Eldritch powers are still being research intensively by Old Man Henderson (read: trying to use the pages to roll a blunt).

The Bong of Destiny - Old Man Henderson's favorite bong that allows him to smoke anything; originally thought it was the Spear of Destiny until he found out he couldn't stab a ghoul with it.

Necromancer's Chinese Takeout Box of Pyromancy - The little box things you get takeout in, taken after a bust of a Necromancer's lair. Has trace amounts of flame-based arcane power but the source is unknown if it was from the Necromancer or the really well cooked Mapo Tofu it once carried.

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

Fair enough, it shall be put into deep storage and fed to starving crocodiles o7

Gardens of Jalaryias(Small-scale interplanetary Nation RP)

I should probably mention that Quxikotl mercenaries are somewhat common provided you know how to contact them and don't destroy them at first sight. They're a wary bunch and lack the ferocity they used to have but there's something to be said about having a giant armored lizardmen charging at you with an notAK-47 firing wildly and a chainsaw sword revving in hand that few other things can replicate. The mercs, like everyone else in the race, are just trying to find their way and a purpose in life and because their society never really valued looking into philosophical thoughts like that, they don't know how to cope with it beyond doing what they know how to do.

Also, stahp feeling compassion towards them dammit, they're meant to be hated >_<

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

@Hellis Ayy glad you liked it. About the Crocodile Chucker, could I keep it if Henderson claims it was made by the Stevie Down Under although plenty of people saw him making the thing, sprinkled the thing in some Australian beer and kept it in his office cubbie fully loaded for self defense? Everyone whose also seen it can tell that its not made by Steve Iwrin as it looks like a supped high school physics project on drugs with a crocodile in it.

Not a complete necessity, mostly there for the shits and giggles of having OMH calling in "artillery" and launching a crocodile at someone. In the office. Because of the Choco-Croco Incidient.

Gardens of Jalaryias(Small-scale interplanetary Nation RP)

@Klomster The Quxikotl have somewhat managed to turn their aggressive nature into being stubborn defenders as their new life demands of them, but they are rather lost in a sense that they don't know exactly what to do and have the aforementioned "species existential crisis". There's also the Lizardfolk in space ships that have become space-born settlements on the inside and former outposts on moons and astroids although both of the categories are having their numbers culled as time goes on.

I'd imagine that the primary driving force of Schaferkin warpacks attacking the Quxikotl would be someone trying to gain some political power or martial prestige from attacking the "hated raiders of old".

IᎶ.

I LIVE, I DIE, I POST AGAIN! WITNESS MEEEEEE!!!

IᎶ.

With everyone finally gathering the nerves to enter the holy light of holiness, Svegg decided it was time to follow them unto destiny. He closed his eyes, breathed in and out deeply, cleared his stormy mind, felt the world around him (which was quite literally nothing to be completely honest), focused his inner chi and balanced his chakra through methods he didn't even know. Probably involved glowing orbs of dragon power or something occultly strange like that.

Opening his eyes, Svegg stared down the light with a thousand mile stare right into the center of it.

And immediately flailed back as he learned that staring straight into a bright light is a terrible idea.

You can't blame the guy though; he was only born a few minutes ago.

Once again gathering his inner mind, soul, body, being, organs, blood, thoughts, conscious, plans, important documents, shoes, bags and passport, Svegg planted his foot into the ground like a sumo wrestler and screamed a loud, deep, manly, machismo, testosterone-fueled roar of courage and charged into the light.

Svegg's Shouting

HHHNNNNGGGGRRRRRHWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE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He burst through the light and charged right through, not caring about anything or anyone. Ignoring all of his siblings and the floating letters, he bull rushed right into the The Gambler's Folly, gracefully executing a 10/10 dolphin diving into the portal (although he landed with something about a 4/10).

The other Igs remaining didn't even know what had happened until they ear the after effects of what could only be called an extremely effeminate French tridactyl running into the room on stubby little legs, screaming its head off and charging right into the nearest portal like an idiot. Svegg honestly should have invested more in his INT and WIS stats respectively; even if they weren't going to help his build, they would certain help him in the places where he desperately needed help it seemed.