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A soft snoring rose from the back of the carriage where a halfling could be found, all wrapped up in furs and curled into a ball. If not for the sound one might've mistook him for a large rock, for the furs seemed to blend into each other and the man underneath didn't appear to move at all, even to breathe. He'd been like that since the moment they climbed into the carriage to leave Aelia, and he hadn't woken up once since, no matter how rough the road or loud his fellow passengers. There wasn't much sleep to be had in the frozen frontier from which he hailed, so he had some catching up to do.

Whether by wild coincidence or supernatural senses Chip began to stir when they neared their destination of Auonar. Heavy laden eyes fluttered open seconds before Gudrik spoke, and something resembling a squeak or a groan passed between his lips. The rock occupying the backseat vanished in a clutter of cloak and clothing as Chip sat up, stretching his arms out far above his head, bones popping and cracking as he did.

Chip Snowdryft was a tiny thing by most people's standards: he stood as high as the average man's elbow and looked thin as a rail even for a halfling; he practically vanished when looked at from the side. He had a narrow face with flushed cheeks, a button nose, and sunken, blue-gray eyes- tired, yet ever vigilant.

Those same eyes turned out the window to get a lay of the land around Auonar as Chip spoke an answer to Gudrik in a light, accented voice: "Doubtful. Better chance they either lost the road on their travels and buried themselves in the snow or were accosted by...something. Lots to kill you up here, mister Temfarrow. Even the weather!"
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Two little boots crunched into the snow with nary a sound. Chip drifted away from the carriage, his gait more akin to a leaf on the wind than a normal walk. His body spun as he took in his surroundings. Auonar was unfamiliar to him. The conclave had sent him this direction on a few occasions, but he'd never come close to the city let alone entered it.

There were twice as many people around as he'd seen in the last month. Buildings, carriages and crowds cut off his sight lines in every direction, like he was standing in the center of a dense woodland. At least in the woods he could rely on his ears to warn him of danger, but here? It was loud. Horses were neighing, wheels were turning, people were yelling.

'How does anyone live like this?' He grumbled. 'Can barely hear myself think.'

Chip shook his head and turned to face Dular, answering a question she'd asked him minutes earlier that he'd chosen to ignore until now. "Like to eat as I go. Sitting around wastes time." He explained, tracing his gaze along the street until he spotted what looked like a tavern sign. When was the last time he stepped into a place like that? "Don't like tables, either. Or plates. Just eat with your hands, you know?"

After a beat he turned around again. "Someone else should talk in there," he looked to Entyrea, crinkling up his nose. "You talk a lot."
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_______________________________________________


Physical Description
Andrew is unusually tall, measuring more than a few inches over six feet- a trait he inherited from his father. He's far thinner, however, with an unhealthy gauntness to his long face. Dark circles around his eyes stand out against harshly pale skin, and long hair falls down to his shoulders. Most wouldn't regard him as particularly good-looking, owing in no small part to a lack of effort and little self confidence.

His persona's appearance in Pariah differs significantly. While Graves stands just as tall, he's extraordinarily well-built, with a chest as broad as a barrel and muscle coiled like steel cable. Scarring earned from many an encounter pepper his body thanks to his light armor and penchant for reckless aggression. Graves is much better put together, too, with shorter cropped hair and strong features his player could only dream of.

Character Conceptualization
Graves is a controversial bounty hunter whose history stretches back to the first days of Pariah Online. He’s renowned for doggedly pursuing his targets no matter where they run or for how long. Quick tempered and arrogant to the core, Graves is a difficult man to work with if he believes you’re holding him back- and he thinks everyone does. The few friendships he still holds are troubled, to say the least, yet it wasn’t always so.

Back when the game first launched, Graves was a member of a guild called the Strange Reign Club. They were a highly competitive group of raiders and PVPers with a reputation for extraordinaire toxicity. It was hard to argue against their results, however. Graves showed great promise as one of their earliest recruits, competing with some of the Club’s best duelists. He’d stay with them for many months before, without much warning, he’d be cut from the team and blacklisted by its raid leaders.

A solo player ever since, Graves has been quietly grinding away at his profession, stewing on whatever drama had happened behind the scenes...

Other Information
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1968 CHARACTER POSSIBILITIES:
-X-Men (Focus on OG 5? Have a school open for other characters to play in? who knows)
-A Teen Titan of some kind? (Superboy, BB, Starfire...wouldn't want to do the whole team again)
-Wolverine (would prolly involve a lotta time jumping/flashbacks so I can play around with how fuckin old he is. could be fun. vietnam shenanigans?)
-A Justice Society type, like Alan Scott or Dr. Fate (magic is hard, but fun.)
-prolly going to avoid big names like Spider-Man, WW and Flash
-bring back jamie's BB (really enjoyed playing him, but the alien tech might not fit the era too well. maybe go retro?)
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
W O L V E R I N E


L O G A N H U D S O N N O N E M O B I L E I N D E P E N D T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:


"I'm the best there is at what I do."

Logan Hudson is a man trying to escape a past he doesn't remember. Flashes of memory come to him in his dreams to tell him he is far older than most: the sound of nineteenth century shot and cannon soaring overhead, Logan sloshing through the water of the pacific ocean onto a beach assailed by machine gun fire, or a whip slashing long strips off his flesh in a prison camp deep in some hellish jungle. All those terrible memories his subconscious dregs up are of war, violence and death. His old life was not a pleasant one, Logan decided, and he's spent half a decade trying to leave it behind him.

No shortage of good people have helped him on his path: James and Heather Hudson of Alpha Flight gave him aid when he first awoke naked in the frozen Canadian wilderness, and Charles Xavier offered Logan a home at his institute whenever he was ready to return there. He spent some time there among Chuck and his pupils, yet the call of the road and the wood always seem to drag him away. Something in Logan's gut is calling to him, though why he couldn't possibly say. All he knows is that he'll never find it sitting around the mansion sipping martinis.

Wolverine as a character has an audaciously long history, both editorially and in-universe. There's such a well of material to draw from that its difficult to find a place to start. Part of me wanted to reinvent Logan in some way this go-around- give some new spin on an old character we've all seen a dozen times before. But as I revised and reworked the sheet I came to the conclusion that all my ideas were shit and there's a reason Wolverine is at his best in his classic gold-and-blues. So I'm returning Wolverine to his roots as an amnesiac on-and-off-again X-Man with a past he's afraid to confront. He's a violent bruiser trying to turn over a new leaf that continuously falls off the wagon, yet gets up to try again regardless.

My first arc with Logan will find him in the center of an assassination attempt on Congresswoman Valerie Cooper- a harsh opponent of the Mutant Control Act- by a Purifier-inspired terrorist group, the Mutant Response Division. Much as he's loathed to get involved in politics even Logan can't stand by and watch an innocent woman be murdered.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

The name 'Logan' was given to Wolverine by Charles Xavier. When asked about a surname he chose to adopt the name of the leaders of the Alpha Flight who had treated him with such warmth years ago. The Hudsons are unaware they've adopted a stray. Logan does not know his birth name.

I'm going to keep Logan's supporting cast small as we begin. It may grow larger as his story progresses, but I don't wish to claim too many mutant NPCs given how much interest there is in the X-Men and their many associates this game. I hope to work closely with those players and perhaps we may share a number of supporting characters in the future.




S A M P L E P O S T:


P O S T C A T A L O G:

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_______________________________________________




Physical Details
Ravanor Kell never stopped being the runt of the litter. At only 6'8 and two hundred and eighty pounds, some might even consider him lithe for a Krogan. His skin is a shade paler than most, contrasting sharply against the dark coloration of his head crest. Old, crimson scars dot the crest and his face; the largest mark is a single, deep cut around his throat from ear to ear. His once shining armor of blue and black has been reduced to a dull, pock-marked hunk of metal after too many years of service.

Personal History
Ravanor Kell was born on Tuchanka in 2032. Despite being the smallest and weakest of his clutch Kell was one of only three to survivor past infancy. An old male of his clan, Ghoramund, claimed the right of parentage over him, adopting him from the female clan and taking Kell under his wing. That old Krogan saw the rest of his people as vainglorious, unambitious and doomed to extinction if they remained on their current path. As a battlemaster, Ghoramund was one of the most powerful biotics and skilled combatants in Clan Ravanor; he hoped to use that power and influence to take the warlord of Ravanor's seat for himself in the hopes that he could steer his people along a better path. He failed. The warlord cast him out instead of claiming Ghoramund's head. Beaten but not broken Ghoramund sought out the female clans and claimed Kell as his own. He hoped to raise the boy to someday become the leader he was not.

Over the next century and half the two Krogan traveled Tunchanka and eventually the rest of the galaxy together. They worked as mercenaries for employers Ghoramund deemed worthy causes, and he used every job as an opportunity to teach Kell what it meant to be a true warrior. Every moment they were not fighting was time they spent in their studies, enriching their minds and bodies alike. It was a spiritual experience for the young Kell and he cherished every moment of it. Their travels brought them into contact with everything from the Blood Pack on Omega to Thresher Maws on distant worlds to Batarian pirates in the Skyllian Verge.

Their adventures together came to an end when Ghoramund was crippled by an Asari commando in 2176, five years ago. The old man chose a quiet life of retirement on the Citadel, using the funds he'd earned over the centuries to live lavishly. He urged Kell to continue his travels throughout the galaxy so that he may gain the strength and allies needed to eventually return home to Ravanor to set the clan right. Kell was trepidatious about working on his own for the first time, but it seemed an exciting opportunity to grow beyond his mentor's shadow.

Combat Analysis
Ravanor Kell is a master of taking and holding ground. He uses his combination of biotic talents and technology to fortify particular areas and dig in, ready to drive back any threat that dares approach his zone of control. He works best in tandem with more offensive warriors who can take advantage of his protection to strike down their enemies. Kell prefers close ranged combat where he can use his Claymore to devastating affect, though he is arguably more proficient with his hand cannon, Lover's Kiss, as he's used the weapon since he was a boy.

Reason for Vacating Previous Situation
The wounding of his mentor and father figure drove Kell into striking out on his own. He's spent the last five years floating from job to job, taking any work that strikes him as interesting. The Exo-Geni offer was brought to his attention by an old friend of his, Yamora, an Asari information broker and one-time love of Ghoramund.
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Physical Details
The life of a soldier is all Mara's ever known- a fact that is carved into every facet of her identity. Rigorous, daily training earned her a fair bit of muscle and an athletic frame. Noo amount of hard work, however, can make her grow more than her unfortunate five feet and seven inches. She parades her scars as trophies won in hard-fought brawls in the alleys and bars of her hometown. The most visible of these are a cut along her left cheek and the numerous, smaller abrasions that pepper her jawline, neck and upper body.

Her 'style,' if one could call it that, hasn't changed much since her days as a corpo pilot: she still wears the grey Battle Dress Uniform, work boots and the fur-lined aviator's jacket that were the signature of her unit. She's removed all the Elysian Dream branding, of course, and replaced them with an embroidery of Icarus's wings.

Background Information
On Mara Armitage's eighth birthday she was conscripted into the youth wing of the Elysian Dream Defense Force. She was elated. The sight of mechs marching in parade formation through the streets of Seattle had always set her heart aglow growing up. When the doctors told her she was neuralink viable it was like God had finally answered her prayers. Her parents were equally thrilled by the announcement. Mara set the whole of her mind, body and spirit to being the best soldier she could be. And she excelled. Teachers were constantly remarking on her skill and enthusiasm, lauding her as an example to the rest of the group. Her peers looked up to her the same way they did the adults. All that love and attention just reinforced her belief that this was where she was meant to be.

All that admiration blinded Mara to what was going on in the life of her younger sister, Emeraude. In Mara's mind the two were inseparable. Em might've been struggling to adapt to her new life, sure, but she had potential! Their aunt, Morgan, would see to her success. Someday Mara and Em would be an unstoppable duo on the battlefield. Em would just need to endure a few...growing pains! That was all.

Mara was just a teenager, however, and saw only what she wanted. She never paid attention to the 'encouragement' her parents gave Em. She never saw how their instructors treated Em when Mara wasn't around. And worst of all? Mara never even bothered to ask Em if she wanted to pilot. Mara assumed that everyone wanted to do it, especially if they were good at it, as Em was. The thought that someone might see it as torment never even crossed her mind.

At fourteen, Mara was recruited into the Redemption of Humanity, a subsidiary private military company of Elysian Dream. The Redeemers were an NC-focused company ran by a man named Captain Eric Swann, a veteran pilot whose family had served ED for generations. He was a hard man by all accounts: cold to his underlings, merciless to his enemies, and he despised weakness in all its forms. Swann was also the best damn pilot Mara had ever seen. He taught her everything she’d ever need to know about NC combat. Despite the extreme pressure he put Mara and the rest of the Reedemers through, she excelled- just as she had in the youth wing.

Her dedication to the work attracted the attention of Valerie Wright, a fellow pilot and the prettiest girl Mara had ever seen. She was smitten. Val was confident, playful and zealous. She could fly circles around the rest of the squad, save the captain himself. Val and Mara would compete fiercely for the title of fastest pilot on the team for the next several years. Their relationship blossomed outside the mechs as well. Inter-team fraternization wasn’t forbidden by company policy but the captain certainly didn’t approve of distractions, so the girls kept their relationship a closely guarded secret. It was Mara’s first act of rebellion, small as it was.

The next five years were the best she’d ever know. Her family was nothing but supportive. She had a girlfriend she loved with all her heart. And she had Em, the little sister that never left her side. If Mara had a choice she would’ve stayed there forever: serving with the Redeemers and living in Seattle with Val, Em and all the rest.

Then June 19th, 2677 arrived. The Redeemers are sent to the ruins of Corvallis in search of classified old world tech. ED salvage crews barely had time to set up their equipment before a band of raiders descended on the ruined city. Their numbers caught the Redeemers off-guard and forced them to dig in hard around the dig site. A pitched battle followed. Several of the Redeemers’ NCs were damaged in the affair; much of their ammunition was exhausted as well. The team was heavily depleted when a second wave hit. It was plain that these were no ordinary marauders when a sound like thunder came from the heavens and took out their heaviest hitter in a single shot.

What followed was a desperate scramble to escape. Mara kept as close to Em and Val as she could, fighting tooth and nail to cut a path of escape out of Corvallis before it was too late. Em was a monster on the battlefield: her Bercilak tore its way through any NC stupid enough to get within the range of its burning axe. Mara left a path of ion mines in their wake, disabling and damaging the systems of anyone that pursued them. They almost made it out.

Then Val and another Redeemer went down. It was a stupid mistake that did them in- a too long sprint across open ground without proper cover. It was a goddamn shooting gallery. The Armitage sisters debated leaving them behind. Better Mara and Em return with reinforcements then get captured along with them, right?

their attackers proved more brutal than Mara could’ve expected. They descended on the downed NCs, popped open their cockpits and crushed one of the Redeemer pilots in their metal fists. Val was moments from suffering the same fate before Mara broke cover and charged, rifle barking and missiles flying. Em was right beside her, as always. The Bercilak went for the NC that just killed a Redeemer pilot and Mara went for the second looking over Val. It was a rush of steel and blood that Mara barely remembers. The frantic hand to hand. Thunder from the sky. Em’s mech going down in a hail of dragon fire.

Mara scooped Val’s broken body into the Icarus White’s cockpit, tossed the Bercilak’s cockpit and core over her shoulder and made a run for it. She’s not quite sure how she managed to escape the sniper that had killed so many of her friends. Fear and adrenaline were all that kept her moving through the haze of pained panic until she eventually reached safety: Captain Swann had arrived with reinforcements to rescue what few survivors they could find. The city was torched by the enemy before the tech could be secured, much to the brass’s anger. The mission was a spectacular failure.

The following days in the hospital were a blur. Val‘s injuries would take months of gene-growth to repair of her wounds proved impermanent. The company refused to pay for Emeraude’s medical treatment beyond the essentials- Swann was apparently so dissatisfied with their performance that this was his way of punishing the Armitages. And Em went fully catatonic. Couldn’t speak, couldn’t eat, never moved.

The company wrote her off as a lost cause and decided to sell the rights to Em's NC and body back to her family. In turn, Royce Armitage, her father, sold his daughter's hand in marriage to recoup the money he'd lost on her. Mara protested fiercely. Her sister wasn’t even awake to advocate for herself! She had served the Redeemers and ED loyally for years. She was an excellent pilot, and she could be again if only they’d give her a chance.

No one did. Their parents were shockingly dismissive of the girl, as if those raiders had done them by a service by ridding them of her. It took everything Mara had not to beat them both bloody where they stood. She took her belongs and left, never to return. Mara made her appeal to Swann next, though he was just as disdainful. The man wouldn’t give it more than five minutes of thought. He wanted Mara to get over it. She left him, too.

And finally she went to Val. Mara told her love everything that had happened. Of how unfairly everyone was treating her sister. It was only then that Val revealed how the rest of the team had felt about Em, too: the girl was only worth keeping around for Mara’s sake. She was a good pilot now, sure, but but hadn't always been. And she remains a miserable soldier and as weak willed as girls come. Mara told Val she planned to desert so she could take Emeraude somewhere to get proper treatment. Valerie Wright balked at that. She raged, accused and pleaded all at once- doing all she could to get Mara to stay and forget her sister.

The Icarus White vanished along with the Bercilak’s remains in the following weeks. They took to the waste, and found their oasis in a place called Last Hope.

Polaris Shift
Mara is plagued by dreams. They come most often in the weeks following a successful perfect sync: one moment she's awake, aware and active and the next...she's not. She's slumped over- maybe even standing- her eyes glazed over as a deep sleep overcomes her. Her dreams are incredibly vivid, and she often struggles to tell the difference between the waking world and the dreaming one. The length of each episode varies greatly, and they've only gotten longer and more frequent over the years. Sometimes she's gone for mere moments. Other times she'll spend a whole day trapped in her own body, fully unaware that anything is amiss.

Personal Mission
Mara has had only one goal since fleeing her home in Seattle: evade, escape, survive. All that's mattered to her since leaving home is keeping Emeraude safe. Mara's sure her sister's betrothed is still searching for her, and the wound she left with Val was too sharp to be the end of things- Mara wouldn't be surprised if the Redeemers were following her tracks as well. But to help Emeraude heal and to get far, far away from her pursuers, she'll need money. She's come to Last Hope seeking a quick, easy contract so she has the cash flow to keep moving. They're too close to Elysian Dream territory for her to feel safe, and this dump doesn't have the resources to treat Emeraude properly. Nice as the people seem to be Mara's trying to keep them at an arms length- she won't be around long enough to be betrayed again.

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The Stalwart Mk VIII is the best shield projector in its class for lightly armored targets with minimal power extra draw. It is efficient, long-lasting and highly durable against most conventional weaponry. The Stalwart line is known for its ‘reactive’ shield that dynamically activates and empowers itself based on oncoming threats. When it detects no immediate danger the Stalwart goes into standby mode, decreasing its power draw and allowing the Icarus White to focus its energy on its thrusters. Upon detecting incoming rounds or a targeting laser, however, the Stalwart will draw however much energy it seems necessary to thwart the attack in real time with almost no delay.
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
S U P E R M A N


C O N N E R K E N T / K O N - E L A U T O M E C H A N I C M E T R O P O L I S J U S T I C E L E A G U E
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:


”Do you know what it’s like for all the world to rest their hopes and dreams on your shoulders? Pretty nerve-wracking, if I’m honest. But I have to try."

This is where you outline your vision for the character including any notable changes or differences from the regularly accepted canon. This should be a short summary that provides insight into where the character is in terms of their overall progress and development.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go?

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

Any additional notes you want to put either for yourself, the GM's or other players to help clarify your vision or continuity.

S A M P L E P O S T:

A sample post that can be used in the IC if you so desire upon acceptance. This post should provide an example of your vision for the desired character. This sample post should meet all standards outline in the rules and additionally include dialogue, mannerisms and other actions representative of your intended portrayal.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed arcs and stories.
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