canaryrose

Code Vein

haven’t fully read it yet but im interested bc ur the best

Young Justice

---

Location: Submarine Interacting with:Dr. Bingley, Viktor (@FunnyGuy), Talon, The Team

---

Alisa pursed her lips. Her eyebrow twitched. If there was one thing she hated, it was being told she was wrong. And Viktor had effectively just called her stupid. But Alisa knew she was right. Kassy made the right call, and he was just trying to make some idiotic power play. She turned into the private channel again, readying a scathing remark, when there started to be frantic chatter on the main channel. She switched and her eyes widened at the news. Fuck.

Practically dashing back into the main room, Alisa came up on the opposite side of Talon. She gave Dr. Bingley a shoulder squeeze as she walked by, almost as an afterthought- which it was. For a moment, she stared out the window, stunned by what she saw. Ja seemed to be unconscious and drowning, while Daphne had taken off her suit and turned into a plant. “I-” She tried to talk, but found that she had no words. How did every mission end up going wrong?

“Talon. Don’t fire until Mirage gives the order,” she finally managed to say, fully aware of Viktor’s derisive glare. The scene was still developing outside. An illusory giant squid was forming beside Zach. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was meant to do, but… good idea? “See? That could work.” Then, Alisa again turned into the main channel. “Cybergirl to Team. What do you need us to do?”

Young Justice

---

Location: Submarine Interacting with:Dr. Bingley, Viktor (@FunnyGuy)

---

Alisa patted Dr. Bingley’s arm comfortingly. “Of course they can,” she assured him. “A giant squid is a piece of cake for us- trust me.” In truth, Alisa wasn’t so assured about the team’s ability in an underwater fight like this. This was only their second real battle, and she wasn’t even involved. She, however, was much more sure of its outcome than Viktor seemed to be. She listened to his conversation with Talon and knitted her brows, letting out a miniscule sigh. Seriously?

“Hmm… Dr. Bingley, excuse me, I have an emergency. I need to… go to the bathroom. And, um. Expel waste. I’ll be right back.” It was an awful lie, but it worked. She wasn’t even sure there was a bathroom in the sub, but it usually worked as a good excuse for everyone else. Alisa went to the back of the submarine and switched her earpiece to a private channel with Viktor. Luckily, she could still hear their conversation from where she was standing.

Alisa whispered into her earpiece, “Cybergirl to Rain. Chill out and lay off Talon and Mirage. And maybe… I don’t know, using a submarine weapon on a massive squid when we’re supposed to be moving covertly in Atlantean waters is not the best idea? Erm. Over.”

Young Justice

---

Location: Submarine Interacting with: Kassy ([@MistressDizzy]), Daphne (@Dreamingflowers), The Team

---

Dr. Bingley was… interesting. He was like a lot of men Alisa knew. The eclectic scientist type: distracted, probing, a bit awkward. She didn’t find it charming. Although the questions weren’t pointed at her for once- they were pointed at the other girls. He either didn’t know she was a robot or wasn’t interested in robots. Which was fine. But it was strange to not be the object of fascination, the oddity in the room. Alisa guessed that happened when you were in the company of aliens and mermaids and plant women, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t strange. Kassy and Aleen’a both seemed happy enough to answer his questions, but Daphne looked uncomfortable. Alisa knew why and found herself shifting closer to the other girl almost protectively.

She was about to say a word of sympathy to Daphne when she said something to Viktor instead. An interesting conversation, but Alisa wasn’t going to eavesdrop- visibly, at least. She backed off, but was still listening.

All of sudden, the submarine turned dark. There was a bump, a shaking. “What’s going on?” Alisa unbuckled her seat and stood, rushing to the window with Kila, peering out. She saw a little better in the dark than him, but she still pressed her face against the glass, cupping her hands around her eyes to see a bit better. “All I see are… tentacles.” Shivers ran down her back. The ocean was a nightmare. “Kassy, are you okay out there? What’s going on?”

Kingmakers: The Throne Alone (A Medieval Fantasy Succession Crisis)

Working on a CS.

Kingmakers: The Throne Alone (A Medieval Fantasy Succession Crisis)

I’ve had a character in progress for the archduke of the Wildwoods for a few days now, but I don’t know if the GM considers that to be a reservation?

《 H.E.R.O. 2064 》

_{September 24th, 2064
Brookside
Rainy Day Nightclub}

The Rainy Day club is infamous among the Castleburg underworld for its wild atmosphere. Here, the music blares loud while garish neon lights flash overhead. All sorts of substances pass freely among the patrons of this club, and it’s common knowledge that an extra five slipped to the bartender will guarantee that your ID is always valid. The club is packed tonight- more so than usual.

The line to get into the club snakes all the way down the block. By the time our heroes get to the front of the line, an hour has already passed. It’s pitch dark along the dingy Brookside alleyway. The bouncer, a tall, heavily tattooed man takes down his sunglasses to stare at the group. “IDs, plea-” Then, his eyes land on a certain someone in the group. “Yooo! Nevermind, broskis, go on ahead.” When someone tries to hand him the fee, he shakes his head. “Nah, nah. Free admission. Enjoy yourselves.” He winks, and opens the door into the club.

Inside, the club is pumping. There are two visible levels. The first, where you stand, is a typical nightclub. There’s a large bar, a dance floor, and speakers. It’s packed shoulder to shoulder on the first level. The second level, however, looks to be less crowded. There are several buff-looking guys standing at the sheet metal staircases leading up to the second floor. The second floor seems to have been installed after the building was built. The supports hang down to the bottom floor, along with what seems to be the main draw of the club- a plexiglass pit that hangs down from the second floor with a flat bottom. If anyone has ever been inside, they would know that the plexiglass is in reality a two-way mirror.

Access to the second floor seems to be regulated- the bouncers at the entrances are only letting in certain people- but you might notice that bills are frequently exchanging hands.

There’s not a fight going on right now, but there’s a holographic list of future fights near the bar. The next one, between Katastrophe and The Gorgon, occurs in fifteen minutes. There’s a QR code for betting next to the leaderboard.

Young Justice

---

Location: Submarine Interacting with:Viktor (@FunnyGuy), The Team

---

Alisa ran her hand over her diving suit with a frown. It was blue- her favorite color- and somewhat sturdier than the others. “I… don’t know,” she said to Viktor, still investigating the diving suit. Her eyebrow quirked when he called her ‘Alisa’, but she elected not to say anything. “My mom assured me I was totally waterproof, but she also put a fingerprint-coded lock on the pool gate and the bathroom, so I’m not exactly confident in that aspect of my engineering. I’ll be fine, though- I’m gonna go back up in a minute, and I asked Red to make my new model a few inches taller if my current one needs to be replaced!”

It somewhat eased her nerves that they had souped up her suit like they had. And it excited her that they were going to a place as exotic as Atlantis. They hadn’t gotten to go anywhere very new yet, and traveling to an underwater kingdom was certainly new. Her mom would for sure hate it. That at least made her happy.

---

A few hours later, Alisa sat in the submarine next to Daphne, staring out the window. The underwater world was fascinating. And it was interesting to think about Kassy growing up here. Alisa had asked questions about it before, but this mission would definitely raise some way better questions.

But for now, she had some more pressing matters on her mind. Like… “Why didn’t we just Zeta there?” she wondered aloud.

Kingmakers - The Throne Alone (GoT/ASOIF-like) (Noble Politics)

Ooh, this is interesting. Might just join.

《 H.E.R.O. 2064 》

Hopefully there aren't any glaring lore inconsistencies here.

Carmilla

---

---

Carmilla

"People who think of licking knives as a villainous trope just haven't cut a cake before."

---

---

[ NAME ]

Regina Moretti

[ HERO IDENTITY ]

Carmilla

[ NICKNAME/ALIAS ]

Bloody Mary, Satan, The Snake of Savior Island, Literally Pandora But Worse

[ AGE ]

'25'

[ GENDER ]

Female

[ AFFILIATION ]

HERO

[ APPEARANCE ]

Despite her healthy height (5’7) and weight (132 lbs), there is an unmistakable sickliness that clings onto Regina Moretti. The smell of disinfectant clings to her pale skin, reminiscent of hospital rooms and taxidermist’ offices, and her hair matches that same deathliness, a dull green that draws in images of untended gardens and weeds crawling over corpses. It’s a disposition that Regina leans into with almost child-like glee, her posture contorted in such ways that she’s never truly sitting or standing upright, her limbs and joints rolling about languidly. She lounges as often as she can, more than comfortable with resting her slim legs upon whatever object serves as the most convenient, rather than the most practical, footrest. But despite this physical slothfulness, this inability to act in any way that shows respect for those in her company, her eyes, gray and lightless, retain an unkind alertness, as if seeking to peel the skin and meat off whatever catches her interest. As if the world existed for her to dissect. As if the lives she held in her hands were naught more than toys.

Those that meet her for the first, the fifth, the fiftieth time would conclude, on an instinctual level, that Regina Moretti was evil.

[ PERSONALITY TRAITS ]

To be a doctor, you need knowledge and empathy. How else would you be able to guide an ailing patient through the conversational steps necessary to accept the diagnosis of their symptoms?

To be a surgeon, you need self-control and stoutheartedness. How else would you be able to guide your subordinates through the bloody affair of carving apart a human while they still lived and breathed?

And to be as such in aeromedical services? You needed all that, as well as the disposition to act swiftly and without hesitation, the ability to improvise where necessary, the capacity to hold every life as sacred, and the understanding that the loss of such lives does not stain your own soul.

Regina Moretti possesses such qualities. Regina Moretti is no longer any of these.

Living beings fascinate her with their uniformity and their diversity, in a world where a single mutation could spawn an entirely different genetic line. She obsesses over such things, every interesting individual a new toy to yearn for, a new doll to dress up or take apart. Only through her self-control does she restrain herself from crossing the line from research to sadism, from what’s an acceptable illegality to what’s a blasphemous taboo, but those boundaries become more and more unclear for Regina as decades roll away. And despite existing within the liminal space of an asset and a threat, she continues to act without hesitation, without care for the judgement of peers, of society, of governance. For Regina possesses a terrifying amount of self-belief, and that belief affirms the righteousness of her goal: humanity’s survival, in a world where any one person can trigger the planet’s demise.

Perhaps that is why, even as she gathers more and more knowledge, more and more degrees, Regina Moretti kept only one with her when she moved to Castleburg: her Doctor’s of Medicine.

And that is also why, unlicensed as she is, if anyone approached her with a desire to live at any cost, Regina will fulfill that desire of theirs, by any means necessary.

…

With such an overpowering mindset, it’s hard to believe she’s human.

With such an overpowering mindset, perhaps she could only be human.

[ BIO ]

The Snake, Molting After Apocalypse

Looking back, Regina believes that her life was colorless until age 21, with her fingers jammed inside someone’s chest as she squeezed their ventricle together in a desperate bid to keep them from bleeding out. If she closed her eyes, she could still smell the iron that coated her tongue, could still feel the shudder of their heart against her nails, could see the dazed fear clouding their eyes, and the gratitude that sparkled in those eyes five days after, when she came in to change their bedpan.

That, beyond the aspirations of her parents, the comfort of her childhood, the encouragement of her teachers, and the optimism of the Golden Age, was the defining moment of Regina’s life.

Four years for a Bachelor’s in biology. Another four years in med school. Finished those exams too. Then residency training for another five years, fellowship for two. By the time she was a surgeon, slicing through skin and fat, cracking open bones and pulling together muscle, Regina was 35 years old and wondering if she had seen all that there was to see. Was something so complex as a human being naught more than a puppet of muscle and bone, cartilage and fat?

Calling it a sabbatical, she worked for Doctors Without Borders, and yet increasing the amount of misery and danger she encountered did not increase the value she saw in her work.

Seeking more demanding work, she applied for and became a physician for aeromedical operations, and yet pursuing longer work hours, more unstable environments did not make her brain buzz any more than normal.

What about other areas of medicine? Virology? Psychology? Physiology? Cancer research?

Desperate, oh so desperate, to capture the purpose of her youth. And yet, still, it all felt so myopic.

…

2035.

Coldwater exploded, opening a Pandora’s Box worth of S and A-rank villains upon the world. Heroes around the globe joined, granted the license to kill with prejudice. Casualties on both sides were immense, and it was only by the mercy of foresight that no cities were turned to dust in the aftermath. Whoever survived the hellscape of battle in a nuclear wasteland, however, succumbed to radiation sickness instead. And Regina, at 61 years of age, multiple accolades to her name and no spouse or children to inherit her fortune, had a front-row seat to the tragic aftermath.

A speedster, skin flayed off by infinitesimally small particles of glass. A strongman, organs turned to purple goop by a virus that didn’t exist until now. A mutant, his mutations lost in flame and his humanity naught more but a charred shadow. A Cyrokinetic, 60% of their body cancerous and the rest unrecognizable, left to die miserably, anonymously.

Regina had seen her fair share of war. Regina had seen her fair share of personal tragedy.

This did not shake her.

This reminded her.

This had happened 42 years ago.

“Hah.”

For how much longer did humans have, if children could be granted the power to wipe out cities on a whim? For how much longer did humans have, if animals could spontaneously generate entirely new species that possessed the power to wipe out armies? How many times did humanity luck out, having the heroes of the past choose to be heroes and not villains? How did she become so focused on humanity as individuals?

The purpose of her youth returned, tempered by decades of professional experience, and sharpened by the selfishness of old age.

And why, why oh why oh why had she anchored herself so firmly to merely relying on the medical knowledge of her peers?

Regina Moretti disinfected her scalpel, gazed upon the rows of dead and dying, and smiled the first smile that felt truly genuine. Most of them were beyond saving, but their deaths would improve her craft, would serve as the foundations of what would save their peers, their progeny. An unacceptable loss, but one that had value despite the fact.

Honed edge touched withered flesh, and the ichor of the gods spilled.

…

Regina Moretti is dead. She died at the age of 66, and the entirety of her assets transferred to the daughter no one knew she had.

Regina Moretti is the daughter of Regina Moretti. She was birthed out of wedlock and inherited her mother’s name out of respect for her acts of good.

Regina Moretti is under government scrutiny. She was responsible for developing Project DOUBLESTACK, before practical considerations caused it to be shelved in favor of militarized automation.

Regina Moretti is a collector of Leftovers. She earned the ire of the Leftover Ethics League for her undisguised beliefs that such creatures have less rights than normal animals.

Regina Moretti is evil.

Regina Moretti is HERO’s.

Why?

Because it’s practical.

| MISCELLANEOUS |

Regina Moretti funds multiple scholarships, with names as bland as ‘Moretti Scholarship #1’ and ‘Moretti Scholarship #2’. The money involved is real though, enough to pay for a domestic student’s tuition all the way up to their Masters…but the application format is irritatingly vague.

Regina Moretti, though unlicensed, is invited still to give guest lectures at conferences and universities. She rejects most of them, but for the ones that do get her attention…well, they usually turn out to be memorable.

Outside of her heroic obligations, Regina Moretti will heal someone free of monetary charge if they do not have any other options available. In exchange, these people sign a contract of confidentiality that, if breached, will have…unfortunate consequences.

In lieu of having children, Regina Moretti helps out at the Hero Leftover Zoological Gardens when she she’s feeling particularly lonesome. She doesn’t have any particular love for monsters…but they are fun to pick apart.

Regina is, was, and will always be a voracious reader, having always enjoyed a study room filled to the brim with textbooks. After the conversion of her entire personal collection into a set of PDFs kept in a reading tablet though, that room…has been closed for renovations.

Abilities

[ RANKING ]

C (Pending Review)

[ POWERS ]

God’s Blood
Once understood as a run-of-the-mill regeneration ability, God’s Blood is a power that allows Regina to convert her blood into organic matter, which then persists as such organic matter until she wills it to return to its original form. While she must be physically present for the conversion of blood into other organic matter, the reversal of that transformation can be done at any range. With the passage of time, cells that are made from God’s Blood would be eventually replaced by natural cells, but Regina still recommends that people be ‘properly’ healed after her initial treatment, in case the effects of God’s Blood expire with her death as well. Practically speaking, government officials would recommend the same. No need to give that snake bitch more hostages than absolutely necessary.

While the most common usage of God’s Blood is using it to heal, in which through the conversion of her blood Regina is able to go as far as to remake functioning organs and limbs for others, including parts of their brain, the categorization of ‘organic matter’ is a wide one, giving access to a variety of poisons and medicines that her blood can be converted to as well. Regina’s studies in animal and Leftover biology has, over the course of years, improved that particular aspect of her power’s range quite a bit, granting her more than just a little flexibility in combat scenarios as well.

Such transformations are pedestrian, however, compared to her true fascination and passion with God’s Blood: gene modification and induced mutation. Her Leftovers (lobotomized beforehand, of course) are her primary experiments in enhancing and testing the limits of the ‘natural’ form, while she applies the most stable of experiments onto herself, rewriting her genetic sequence with her blood and shedding her old form like a snake molts its scales. And if she perfected this…

…well, wouldn’t it be grand if even the flimsiest of her heroic peers could get the body of an Adonis without all of the effort involved?

List of Induced Mutations

Regina Moretti is 25 years old.

Regina Moretti sounds like an angel. A rotten one.

Regina Moretti possesses a slim figure that belies her strength, speed, and durability.

Regina Moretti has 20/20 vision and a discerning sense of taste.

Regina Moretti can photosynthesize, but really only uses it as a substitute for candy.

Regina Moretti produces blood thrice as quickly and efficiently as a normal human.

[ PHYSICAL STRENGTH ]
■■■■□□□□□□

4/10. Brute strength is surprisingly applicable in a variety of scenarios. Regina limits herself here though, to preserve her form.

[ AGILITY ]
■■■■■□□□□□

5/10. Regina has always found the silhouettes of top-ranking runners and lightweight martial artists beautiful. It matches the form she sculpted for herself as well, so it was an easy match.

[ INTELLIGENCE ]
■■■■■■■■□□

8/10. Talent, backed by hard work and drive, honed by experience and higher institutions, had made Regina one of the most well-known surgeons in the world back when she restricted herself to human techniques. God’s Blood would not be what it is without her intimate knowledge of the deck of cards that was the human body. And now, she’s begun turning that intelligence of hers onto other subjects.

[ DESTRUCTIVENESS ]
■■■□□□□□□□

3/10. While there are ways to cause property damage through creative usage of God’s Blood, Regina, isolated, can only do an amount of damage equal to that of a superior human specimen.

[ LETHALITY ]
■■■■■■□□□□

6/10. Anything that can be put down through biological means can be killed by her. But Regina won’t let any of them die.

[ ENDURANCE ]
■■■□□□□□□□

3/10. Even the toughest human body is still surprisingly fragile. This is currently one of the more annoying problems that Regina’s facing. Do you really need human skin to be considered human?

[ EFFICACY ]
■■■■■■■□□□

7/10. Near-instantaneous blood conversions for healing and poisoning, combined with the ability to induce mutations that increases the amount of blood generated makes for a much less limiting situation than what one would think. Coupled with the fact that she can use bags of her blood, and there’s rarely a situation where Regina wouldn’t be able to access her ability.

[ SKILLS ]

While there’s a sense that her studies as a doctor have become pointless now that her finesse with her power has expanded to the extent it currently has, doubly so when a good portion of her heroic peers possess tough bodies or self-regenerating capabilities, it's still good to save blood where she can. Why use a sledgehammer, when a rubber mallet would do?

She’s fairly comfortable piloting aircraft, from small bush planes to helicopters. No commercial plane experience means that Regina would probably still have to go parachuting if onboard a Boeing with a dead crew though.

Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, a surprisingly cerebral grappling art, is something she’s dabbled a decade of her existence in, to get some level of close quarters combat skill. She has a gun though, one that she's relatively good at shooting with, so it’s rare that it’s ever come to that.

Regina fancies herself a good cook. All her dishes feel a bit too healthy though.

[ EQUIPMENT ]

A gun, modified to shoot hypodermic darts filled with her blood.

A backpack, containing medical equipment that’s constantly adjusted and replaced.

Four to eight 500ml bags of miscellaneous organic matter, to be reconverted to blood when necessary.

A flashlight, a tin can of gum drops, her smartphone, and a sharp knife.

@ERode

Really enjoy the concept. She's scary! Accepted, go ahead and post in the character tab.

(P.S: no more ageless characters after this one. three is enough)