Avatar of Athoriel
  • Last Seen: 5 yrs ago
  • Joined: 12 yrs ago
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    1. Athoriel 12 yrs ago

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You never know, the GM and I could have some hidden past where we got tangled with the mafia and I left them for dead.
What better revenge is there? Than to decline a man an opportunity to partake in something he showed a brief interest in.
I like what I see, I'd like to jump aboard this RP if I may?
Drunken input here, would love to see this rp up and running again, if not, would love to recycle my character in another like minded rp.
Boopity bop, have a good day.
Name: Connor Wells

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Appearance:


Adaptation: He has the ability to take on the physical wounds of others, as well as relinquish his own, provided skin contact is made. An additional factor to his ability is the peculiar situation when a wound inflicted is fatal, his power appears to lie dormant in the now clinically dead subject, coming into effect if skin contact is made to act as a safeguard against death, this has been shown to last up to a recorded three hours in test subjects (Riders), Before the link with the abilities owner is severed and returned.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z3eQuEm4R10

Bio: Connor was originally admitted to psych ward at the age of fifteen for aggravated assault, suspected of being brought upon by IED (Intermittent explosive disorder.) He spent six months going through rehabilitative therapy, and was making great headway til news arrived that his mother, his only parent had passed away in a car crash. Determined by his mothers untimely death, to prove to his carers that he had surpassed his condition, Connor asked for an examination by the board to determine that he was safe and sane. Alas, hearing of such an opportunity, an unknown organisation spirited the now orphan away to a new facility, where excruciating experiments were performed daily.

Personality: He's often quiet and passive, albeit faked at times when the anger within swells so high he feels as if he's about to choke. He's highly sympathetic when he gets to know a person and always feels a need to help others in need, but finds it hard to approach others about their problems. Also seen as a bit haughty among the crazies, as he believes himself mostly sane, just a bit troubled due to the days in those labs.

Number: 2
Name: Connor Wells

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Appearance:


Adaptation: He has the ability to take on the physical wounds of others, as well as relinquish his own, provided skin contact is made.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z3eQuEm4R10

Bio: Connor was originally admitted to psych ward at the age of fifteen for aggravated assault, suspected of being brought upon by IED (Intermittent explosive disorder.) He spent six months going through rehabilitative therapy, and was making great headway til news arrived that his mother, his only parent had passed away in a car crash. Determined by his mothers untimely death, to prove to his carers that he had surpassed his condition, Connor asked for an examination by the board to determine that he was safe and sane. Alas, hearing of such an opportunity, an unknown organisation spirited the now orphan away to a new facility, where excruciating experiments were performed daily.

Personality: He's often quiet and passive, albeit faked at times when the anger within swells so high he feels as if he's about to choke. He's highly sympathetic when he gets to know a person and always feels a need to help others in need, but finds it hard to approach others about their problems. Also seen as a bit haughty among the crazies, as he believes himself mostly sane, just a bit troubled due to the days in those labs.

Number: 2
I'd be much obliged if I could take the role of the hunter.
*nods in greeting to the one known as Ice, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head to break the cold of the void around them*
"Perhaps if we had something more to feed the flame..." He mutters to himself.
*Tears off a strip of cloth from the hem of his cloak, gently rotating it betwixt his thumb and finger til it catches alight*
*Warms his hands by the flame, heaving a sigh as he stares forlornly into the evanescent light*
Softly shushes as he helps the thread softly crumple to the floor, gently removing the knife from its side and placing it back in his sheathe. "No more tears, only dreams now." He says as a comforting farewell, carefully closing the threads eyes with a free hand.
Meow.
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