So worried right now. My brother just got admitted to the hospital after swallowing six toy horses. Doctors say he's in stable condtion.
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likes
4 yrs ago
Nice to meet you, Bored. I'm interested!
7
likes
4 yrs ago
Ugh. Someone literally stole the wheels off of my car. Gonna have to work tirelessly for justice.
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Bio
Oh gee! An age and a gender and interests and things. Yeah, I have those. Ain't no way I'm about to trigger an existential crisis by typing them all out, though. You can find out what a nerd I am on discord, okay?
I've always liked to mess around with notions of individuality and uniqueness. We strive for it so much. It's so important to so many of our self-concepts, and the variety of characters on here represents that, even the very cringey ones. They're all an attempt to express something about ourselves or explore different facets of identity that we'll never personally experience. I enjoy exploring hybrid identities, multiple identities, and identities still forming.
In particular, I've always found the concept of conjoined twins intriguing. What would it be like to live as two people permanently stuck together and sharing the same body? There are all sorts of cool philosophical, practical, and humorous implications. Someday, I hope to actually get to play this kind of character (these kinds of characters?) for more than a couple of posts.
This was an almost-finished CS for a cool Ready Player One inspired RP called The Universe. It was my second try at playing conjoined twins, since I hadn't really gotten the monkey off my back from the Sinclair Twins and Deadland Wasteland (life had forced me to drop early).
On their own, Jocelyn and Madison would be two completely average, reasonably attractive Caucasian women in their mid-late twenties who, status as identical twins aside, wouldn't stand out in a crowd one iota. Brown-haired bobs and grey eyes tend to just sort of fade in. Of course, that's not exactly possible when you're conjoined. From shoulders to toes, the two of them share a single body with a slightly widened torso. Madison controls the right side while Jocelyn controls the left. The extra weight that has to be carried on a normal pair of legs, along with the twins' fairly busy lives means that they really don't have much choice but to be physically fit. In terms of clothing, they prefer to dress light, bright, and active or artsy, but they'll wear basically whatever they have to for photoshoots. Hey, when you're that unusual, you're an attraction whether you like it or not.
Ring Location: Middle City
Occupation: Professional hosts, celebrity reporters, and media personalities
Real Life Skills
Combined: The twins are fully ambidextrous and can play the guitar and violin right or left-handed, though Jocelyn is better with the former and Madison with the latter. They enjoy sewing and modifying clothes and tend to be good with cars. They're surprisingly handy at fixing things in general. Yes, they joke that "two heads are better than one". This extends to multitasking, perceptiveness, and general problem solving. Individually, each is above average. As a unit, they're unstoppable. While they're capable of all of the normal things that you'd expect of competent adults, being conjoined definitely makes these a bit harder. They're not winning any foot speed, balance, or physical endurance contests.
Jocelyn: While the twins are biologically identical and should respond the same way to things, Jocelyn is totally unaffected by even the spiciest foods. In general, she just has an abnormally high pain threshold. She's also surprisingly good at sleight-of-hand tricks thanks to countless hours practicing to be a magician with her sister as a child.
Madison: Though she shares most of the aforementioned skills with her sister, Madison tends to be the weaker of the two. Where she excels is in her focus, ability to be incredibly precise, and steady hand. Playing darts, tossing a ball, or firing a gun, her accuracy is impressive for someone who hasn't been specially trained.
Likes (J) = Jocelyn // (M) = Madison // (B) = Both
magic tricks (B)
fast cars (B)
celebrity gossip (J)
tech and gadgets (M)
making funny faces and snuggling (B)
DIY 'life hacks' (B)
classical music (M)
rock music (J)
coffee (J)
just the nastiest health drinks and smoothies (M)
really cute flats and heels (B)
Dislikes (J) = Jocelyn // (M) = Madison // (B) = Both
coffee (M)
health drinks and smoothies (J)
walking long distances without a destination (B)
people who take themselves too seriously (B)
being stared at beyond the obvious second glances that they're used to receiving (B)
lazy people (M)
pretentiousness (J)
when the one falls asleep before the other (B)
spiders (B)
Personalities: The Brightman twins have been a curiosity from the moment that they were born, and have always had to deal with some degree of public attention. As a result, they've developed 'personas' that play up their few differences without consciously intending to. The truth is that the sisters are similar in overall personality and habits and pretty flexible in terms of what they like and dislike. Both are used to living with compromise and they rarely fight. It's not exactly like they can give each other the cold shoulder. Out of the two, Madison is definitely the more concerned about eating and living healthily. Jocelyn's mostly just down to freeload, much to her sister's annoyance. For the most part, Madison is the more driven of the two as well and the more likely to take charge while Jocelyn is a bit more of a laid back joker. The former is more likely to read something and the latter more likely to try something. Both can talk a mile a minute, though. Both hate to sit idle. They're friendly, gregarious, and welcoming towards others and genuinely want to make people smile but, when you spend literally every waking moment in each other's company, you can't help but become a social unit unto yourselves, so the twins can definitely be a bit judgemental and tend to prioritize themselves and their own relationship at the cost of others. That's not to say that they're aloof or selfish. Both have friends. Both are funny, good-natured people who use their occasionally over-the-top sense of humour to put others at ease. It's just that, when your performance on the stage of life is a harmonized duet while everyone else only has to play a solo, you'd better prioritize being in sync with each other.
Background: coming soon
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
The Mimic was a CS submitted for Justice League Unlimited a few years back. I (and a few others) thought that it was a novel and interesting concept, but it was rejected. The idea was to explore a consciousness with no fixed form or identity and how society would shape it. I guess that was just a bit too 'out there'.
Name:
n/a
Alias:
The Mimic, Marjorie Dawes
Age:
Unknown, but young, or at least seems to be. When taking the form of Marjorie, late twenties.
The Mimic has only one power: it can become something or someone else. It is not sure how it does this or what its limitations are. It only knows that it cannot become anything exceptionally large or small. Perhaps it cannot become another thing for too long. In any event, it has never tried.
Weaknesses:
The Mimic itself possesses a type of sentience (if indeed, it can be called sentient) that is profoundly different from that of humans and most alien races so far encountered. In its base form, it either cannot or will not verbalize. It takes on not only the abilities of things that it transforms into, but also their weaknesses and, if those things are sentient, some semblance of their characters. It’s believed that The Mimic grows more sentient by living as others. From them, it learns all of the constructs and values that govern human society, such as right and wrong, strong and weak, and male and female. It is learning that these things are not as easy to define as they would initially seem to be.
The longer that The Mimic spends imitating something else, the more that it desires to be that thing and the more impact that thing will have on its character. Obviously, this can be a double edged sword.
Appearance:
In what most people consider its basic form, though nobody truly knows, The Mimic is a roughly watermelon-sized and shaped blob in a pale greyish-blue that usually hovers two to six feet above the ground. It seems to have a fixed shape, though this will change in colour and texture depending on its impression of the people around it. Sometimes, when faced with unusual or unexpected stimuli, and particularly when someone’s behaviour does not match his or her words, it forms exaggerated faces, almost as if it’s lampooning its surroundings. It seems to be able to turn itself into a flat, disc-like object with a hole in the center. In terms of human forms, it favours that of a young woman with red hair, freckles, and mousy features. Her hair is often pulled back into a messy ponytail, she’s wearing jeans, a sleeveless t-shirt, and a light button-up sweater. Nobody knows why The Mimic chooses this form so often. Perhaps even it doesn’t know.
Character Evolution:
The Mimic isn’t sure what its purpose is. Perhaps it has no inherent purpose and must find one. It doesn’t know, and so it will learn so that it can know.
Bio:
The Mimic does not know what it is. It does not know if it is a living thing or a piece of technology, or if it can be both at the same time. It does not know where it is from. In fact, it does not know when it is from either. Time is a concept that it is attempting to understand. Really, The Mimic does not know what it can do. It has noticed that it takes the form and the qualities of other things around it, so long as they are not excessively large or infinitesimally small. It is not sure how it does this or even why. It just does. If there is any mechanism governing what it decides to mimic, it doesn’t understand how that mechanism works. It just chooses things and becomes them unless there is a direct threat. Then it responds by becoming something more powerful and neutralizing the threat. It is not sure why it does this. The Mimic is not much of anything, after all. The Mimic does not know much of anything either, but one thing is certain: it is learning.
Notes:
The Mimic does not need to take notes. When it sees something, it understands all of its physical details immediately and is incapable of not understanding them after that.
Sample Post:
On the first day of the new Justice League, there are throngs of well-wishers outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the new superheroes. Among them is a small, red-haired young woman with mousy features, freckles, and dimples. She stands beside a streetlight on an uncluttered part of the sidewalk and whoops and cheers with the others. Nearby, there is a teenaged boy with shaggy blonde hair and a pair of beat up skateboarding shoes. She studies him carefully, closely, for just long enough not to unsettle him. She wouldn’t want to make the subject uncomfortable. It would be rude and unprofessional.
On the second day, hanging around that same streetlight, the teenaged boy whoops and cheers with thousands of others. Not far away is a portly middle-aged woman with dark skin and hair pulled neatly back in a bun. He looks at her for a second, fidgeting as he gets all of her details down. He’s trying not to sketch her out. That’d be a bit fucked up.
On day three, the middle-aged woman stands beside that same light and adds her voice to the crowd. It’s a bit smaller than it was the past few days, but she remains enthusiastic. Not far away, an old Asian man seems just as energized. He’s wearing a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and socks under his sandals. The woman gets a read on him, notes what she needs to note, and looks away. She’s not trying to make anyone uncomfortable. That’s not how you make the world a better place.
On the fourth and final day, an old Asian man stands in that same spot amid the crowd, beaming and waving as the final group of superheroes walk past. Nearby is chubby young man in his thirties, with a batman shirt and a bag of takeout. The old man decides to take a gander in that direction, but then he reaches up and clutches at his chest. A look of shock and dismay crosses his features. It’s what one would expect and it isn’t. It’s unsettling. A couple of people look in his direction. He slumps to the ground, but when the crowd parts enough to allow others to help him, he is gone without a trace. There is only a fire hydrant close to where he was standing.
Hours later, once the hubbub has died down, a man walks his dog along the sidewalk. The dog stops beside the hydrant, lifts its leg, and lets loose with a foul yellow stream. The Mimic is disgusted. It nearly turns itself into a larger angry dog in response. In the event, it does not, but it feels satisfaction at this reaction nonetheless. It believes, to a certainty of over eighty percent, that it interpreted the construct of ‘disgusting’ accurately while not being in the form of something that would have an innate understanding of such.About ten minutes later, a bus stops in front of the hydrant. When it drives off, there is only an empty sidewalk and a stray cat walking away.
The cat walks into a nearby park. It trots into a public restroom. There is a long period of silence. Washrooms are convenient, The Mimic has learned. They are places of secrecy because of ‘disgusting’. About twenty minutes later, a young woman with red hair, freckles, and mousy features walks out of the washroom, hands tucked into her pockets. She is not the real her. She is The Mimic. She is attempting to understand superheroes. She is reviewing right and wrong. Insofar as she can determine, it seems that the latter is more prevalent but the former is received more positively. Is it due to a scarcity effect? Why do these beings consider a more difficult, less common, and statistically less materially rewarding behaviour to be more desirable? The Mimic does not understand, and it wants to understand. Perhaps it can learn about ‘good’ by doing ‘good’. Perhaps it can do so as a superhero.
The young woman is so wrapped up in her thoughts that she doesn’t see the man come up behind her until he is almost upon her. She takes a few steps back and he pulls out a knife. “I want your money, not your life,” he demands, “But if you try to make a move, I won’t think twice.” The Mimic bolts. This is a bad man, it determines. This man is threatening it with physical harm. The Mimic runs behind a tree. From the other side emerges Batman. Batman kicks the bad man so hard that there’s a sound from his abdomen that indicates bodily injury. He crawls away, coughing up blood, eyes wide with fear. The Mimic wonders if it just did a bad thing. Then it decides that it’s safer as a cat.
A CS for a post-apocalyptic survival RP called Deadland Wasteland. Yes, they're conjoined twins. I've always been kind of drawn to the unusual and 'out there'. Also, two heads are better than one, aren't they? These two were actually a ton of fun to play and I regret giving up on them.
Basic Information
Name:
Hannah and Amanda Sinclair
Age:
23
Nationality:
Canadian
Ethnicity:
Caucasian
Sex:
Female
Height:
5'4"
Weight:
151 lbs. (combined)
Eye Color:
Blue-Grey
Hair Color:
Red
Physical Disabilities:
Dicephalic parapagus conjoined twins
Slightly far-sighted
Physical Identifiers
They basically look like a two-headed woman.
Both wear glasses, though Hannah needs them more.
They used to wear yellow contact lenses, though that's largely fallen by the wayside.
There are a handful small of surgical scars on their back and shared shoulder.
Appearance:
Perhaps the twins could be described as a pair of young women with red hair, light skin, and freckles. This alone would make them stand out in a crowd given the relative uncommonness of that complexion. They also show the strong and slightly cleft chin characteristic of many people of their ethnic background. However, these features are secondary, as Hannah and Amanda are instantly unmistakable due to the fact that they're dicephalic parapagus conjoined twins, not dissimilar to Abigail and Brittany Hensel. Given the extremely high incidence of fatal birth defects present in such twins, they are very fortunate to enjoy health that - after a few corrective surgeries during their infancy and early childhood - falls within normal parameters.
Amanda and Hannah are identical, though their freckles (not particularly numerous or pronounced) differ. Hannah usually wears her hair shorter and will sometimes wear either a choker or a bracelet to distinguish herself from her sister. They customize their clothes when need be to fit their wider-than-average shared torso, but often prefer to wear things that are either loose-fitting or can stretch a good deal. They prefer wide-necked, tank, or off the shoulder tops for obvious reasons. Their dressing style can best be described as either casual or, at times, 'look at me, I'm a gamer gril.' They've had to focus on practicality since everything went pants a few months back.
Amanda and Hannah were born in Kamloops, British Columbia, Canada, in the year 2088, the second and third (Amanda jokingly refers to herself as the older twin) children of Matthew and Evelyn Sinclair. Informed before their birth of their situation and the likelihood of them dying in infancy, their parents did not opt for an abortion. After crossing a number of important hurdles, the twins emerged as happy, healthy children, their lives understandably the focus of intense public curiosity and media attention. While their parents did their best to strike a balance between appeasing the demand for information and raising the girls normally, by the time that they started the first grade, they were well aware of just how different and special they were.
While some dicephalus twins manage to co-ordinate the fine motor control needed to master everyday tasks, doctors advised caution and patience when the girls were young. Thankfully, this proved largely unwarranted. Amanda and Hannah seem to be able to anticipate each other's movements perfectly and rarely need to communicate in order to co-ordinate their movements. As their older brother Nate was an avid videogamer, the girls would often play with him. Before long they became deeply interested in videogaming and general geek culture, and this carried through into their teens. With two sets of eyes and two minds to process information, their situational awareness was difficult to beat.
As they progressed through high school, sporadically in and out of the public eye, the two of them made a decision: a 'normal' life and career were not in the cards, and their uniqueness was best embraced and used as a source of profit. Shortly after their eighteenth birthday, Hannah and Amanda moved to Vancouver to try their hands at professional gaming. They also studied programming and public relations on a part-time basis at UBC. Firmly ensconced within the 'geek' scene, they became regular attendees and a sometime attraction at gaming, comic, and anime conferences, often getting involved with cosplay. The twins have always been secure enough in their separate identities to eschew ham-fisted attempts to assert their individuality. The truth is that they have pretty similar personality types and their interests overlap significantly. The only notable difference is that Hannah is slightly more bookish and knowledgeable, while Amanda tends to take the lead and is a better judge of character.
They were in nearby Seattle, doing a series of interviews for the upcoming Emerald City Comicon, when the world ended. Perhaps playing so many videogames and watching so many zombie movies imbued them with the paranoia to survive. Amanda and Hannah mostly just stockpiled necessary items and hid for the first couple of months. They taught themselves to shoot an actual gun and found that it was a bit harder in the real world. Upon hearing the call to Refuge, they made their way there immediately.
Extended Information
Residence:
Vancouver, Canada
Profession:
Professional Gamers (former)
lookouts, scavengers, and programmers (current)
Aligned Faction:
currently unaligned
Relatives:
Matthew Sinclair, father (whereabouts unknown)
Evelyn Sinclair, mother (whereabouts unknown)
Nathan Sinclair, older brother (Vancouver, Canada at last contact)
Personnel Data
Weapons:
A pair of Springfield Armory XD(m) pistols firing .45 ACP rounds.
A pair of Swiss army knives.
Equipment
One pair of night-vision goggles (the second pair malfunctioned), a large hiking backpack, and a laser pointer
Miscellaneous
Amanda: Samsung smartphone, apack of pencil crayons, contact lenses, desalinizing solution, one six-sided die
Hannah: iPhone, a small combination lock, contact lenses, a compass, one six-sided die
Trade Skills:
Not an Easy Mark As professional gamers, Amanda and Hannah possess excellent reflexes and consistently react quickly and decisively to changes in their situation. Their situational awareness is virtually unparalleled, due to their unique physiology and chosen profession. They are extremely difficult to sneak up on.
All Your Code are Belong to Us While no means seasoned professionals when it comes to hacking, the twins understand a decent amount about a handful of different types of code and generally know their way around computers and electronics: both hardware and software.
Talents & Hobbies:
Creativity The twins, especially Amanda, enjoy designing their own cosplay outfits and can sketch pretty ably as well as sew and repair clothing and other materials.
General Knowledge The twins, especially Hannah, have pretty good memories and are knowledgeable about a wide variety of subjects.
Limitations:
Like a Sore Thumb Amanda and Hannah are immediately obvious and stick out like a sore thumb wherever they go. There's no chance of fading into a crowd or simply disappearing. They draw immense attention wherever they go (and not all of it is positive). Usually they embrace it, but sometimes it really starts to wear on them.
Conjoined Though they are young, in reasonable shape, and quite physically capable, Amanda and Hannah are still conjoined twins at the end of the day and their two legs have to carry more weight than most people's do. They're a little bit slower, their balance is a little bit worse, and they tire marginally faster than other people of similar age and physical condition. Though they've been mostly problem-free up to this point, some minor birth anomaly could always rear its head.
This was an almost-finished CS for a cool Ready Player One inspired RP called The Universe. It was my second try at playing conjoined twins, since I hadn't really gotten the monkey off my back from the Sinclair Twins and Deadland Wasteland (life had forced me to drop early).
On their own, Jocelyn and Madison would be two completely average, reasonably attractive Caucasian women in their mid-late twenties who, status as identical twins aside, wouldn't stand out in a crowd one iota. Brown-haired bobs and grey eyes tend to just sort of fade in. Of course, that's not exactly possible when you're conjoined. From shoulders to toes, the two of them share a single body with a slightly widened torso. Madison controls the right side while Jocelyn controls the left. The extra weight that has to be carried on a normal pair of legs, along with the twins' fairly busy lives means that they really don't have much choice but to be physically fit. In terms of clothing, they prefer to dress light, bright, and active or artsy, but they'll wear basically whatever they have to for photoshoots. Hey, when you're that unusual, you're an attraction whether you like it or not.
Ring Location: Middle City
Occupation: Professional hosts, celebrity reporters, and media personalities
Real Life Skills
Combined: The twins are fully ambidextrous and can play the guitar and violin right or left-handed, though Jocelyn is better with the former and Madison with the latter. They enjoy sewing and modifying clothes and tend to be good with cars. They're surprisingly handy at fixing things in general. Yes, they joke that "two heads are better than one". This extends to multitasking, perceptiveness, and general problem solving. Individually, each is above average. As a unit, they're unstoppable. While they're capable of all of the normal things that you'd expect of competent adults, being conjoined definitely makes these a bit harder. They're not winning any foot speed, balance, or physical endurance contests.
Jocelyn: While the twins are biologically identical and should respond the same way to things, Jocelyn is totally unaffected by even the spiciest foods. In general, she just has an abnormally high pain threshold. She's also surprisingly good at sleight-of-hand tricks thanks to countless hours practicing to be a magician with her sister as a child.
Madison: Though she shares most of the aforementioned skills with her sister, Madison tends to be the weaker of the two. Where she excels is in her focus, ability to be incredibly precise, and steady hand. Playing darts, tossing a ball, or firing a gun, her accuracy is impressive for someone who hasn't been specially trained.
Likes (J) = Jocelyn // (M) = Madison // (B) = Both
magic tricks (B)
fast cars (B)
celebrity gossip (J)
tech and gadgets (M)
making funny faces and snuggling (B)
DIY 'life hacks' (B)
classical music (M)
rock music (J)
coffee (J)
just the nastiest health drinks and smoothies (M)
really cute flats and heels (B)
Dislikes (J) = Jocelyn // (M) = Madison // (B) = Both
coffee (M)
health drinks and smoothies (J)
walking long distances without a destination (B)
people who take themselves too seriously (B)
being stared at beyond the obvious second glances that they're used to receiving (B)
lazy people (M)
pretentiousness (J)
when the one falls asleep before the other (B)
spiders (B)
Personalities: The Brightman twins have been a curiosity from the moment that they were born, and have always had to deal with some degree of public attention. As a result, they've developed 'personas' that play up their few differences without consciously intending to. The truth is that the sisters are similar in overall personality and habits and pretty flexible in terms of what they like and dislike. Both are used to living with compromise and they rarely fight. It's not exactly like they can give each other the cold shoulder. Out of the two, Madison is definitely the more concerned about eating and living healthily. Jocelyn's mostly just down to freeload, much to her sister's annoyance. For the most part, Madison is the more driven of the two as well and the more likely to take charge while Jocelyn is a bit more of a laid back joker. The former is more likely to read something and the latter more likely to try something. Both can talk a mile a minute, though. Both hate to sit idle. They're friendly, gregarious, and welcoming towards others and genuinely want to make people smile but, when you spend literally every waking moment in each other's company, you can't help but become a social unit unto yourselves, so the twins can definitely be a bit judgemental and tend to prioritize themselves and their own relationship at the cost of others. That's not to say that they're aloof or selfish. Both have friends. Both are funny, good-natured people who use their occasionally over-the-top sense of humour to put others at ease. It's just that, when your performance on the stage of life is a harmonized duet while everyone else only has to play a solo, you'd better prioritize being in sync with each other.
Background: coming soon
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
All six of these character sheets were submitted for the same RPG (which I was really into): Oh My Gods. They were all descendants of deities. Sadly, this one didn't last long. The GM was cool but didn't provide much in the way of guidance or IC worldbuilding so I got kind of lost and never really found a footing.
Name: Candace McMorran
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Sexuality: Bisexual, but leans more towards women
Godly ancestor: Hephaestus
Son/daughter or further removed: daughter
Relationship with godly ancestor: Hephaestus has not fathered quite as many children as some of the more attractive Greek gods, so he is decidedly invested in the children that he does have. He intervened to help Candace and her mother when she was very young, and she has known about her parentage since her mid-teens. He admires her work from a distance.
Relationship with mortal family: after a period of pointed rebellion against her mother and stepfather, Candace has come to appreciate the loving and open minded upbringing that they provided her with. She hasn't lived at her parents' house since leaving for college in the US, but has always returned for major holidays and twice for summer vacation. She is six years older than her next-oldest half-sibling, and has never been especially close with any of them, though that's not to say that there are any issues between them. They're simply too far apart in age to share very much in terms of friends or common interests. She keeps in touch with her mother and her sister Virginia through various online means and, whenever she visits, likes to initiate lively discussions around the dinner table. She tries to influence her younger siblings (particularly her sister) where she can, and steer them in what she believes is the right direction.
Powers: Candace's powers reflect those of her father in almost every way.
- Candace can create and manipulate fire and is more or less immune to its effects. - She has a talent for creating machines and gadgets to solve problems and serve specific purposes. These are often highly unconventional, idiosyncratic in design, and difficult to reproduce, but extremely effective. - Candace can imbue things with force and motion that would otherwise remain static. - She is able to make inanimate objects that have either a face or the form of a living thing come to life, in a sense. They will possess memories of what they have witnessed and will remain staunchly loyal to her.
Personality: Candace is strong willed, aggressively independent, and bullish when it comes to her sense of morality. Perhaps she just has stronger convictions than most people, and perhaps she's trying to bury some deeply held insecurities. In any event, as a visibly disabled person living in a world that is fundamentally at odds with her sense of agency, she feels as if she has no choice but to try harder, reach farther, and react with more force and fury than others do in order to be treated as an equal.
Beyond that, she is best described as conventionally unconventional, subscribing with zeal to the trends and belief systems that define modern left-wing campus culture. She smokes weed and has experimented with a handful of psychadelic drugs, but isn't what one would ever consider a 'stoner'. Candace enjoys gaming (though not the thinly-veiled misogyny that runs through much of gamer culture) and is reasonably good at it, but makes a point of being active and challenging herself physically. She regularly plays wheelchair rugby and basketball and tries to remember to spend some time outdoors away from her workshop. She has dabbled in slam poetry, was active in a number of student bodies while in university studying engineering (with a minor in women's studies) and regularly attends protests and rallies. When not out and about doing something, she can often be found tinkering in her shop or at least using a CAD app to render her future projects on her iPad.
Bio: Candace was born in Glasgow, Scotland and raised by a single mother who was working as a waitress at the time. She doesn't remember much about her early years, but now understands the severity of the poverty that she and her mother lived in. For the first couple of years, there was a seemingly endless carousel of surgeries to lessen the effects of a particularly serious arteriovenous malformation of the spinal cord that left her paralyzed from the waist down. Though children of Hephaestus have often exhibited ambulatory difficulties, hers were particularly severe. The medical costs above and beyond what the NHS covered must have been significant, but they were handled by a mysterious benefactor. For many years after, she had a vague memory of him as a huge man with a bushy auburn beard, receding hair, and a severe limp who leaned heavily on a cane. When she was three years old, the girl's mother was able to return to university and complete her degree in early childhood education thanks to a generous grant from the bearded man. While there, she met, fell in love with, and married the man who Candace would grow up with as her father: Shane Coburn. It was a rather whirlwind love affair, and within less than a year of their marriage, had produced a child: Candace's younger sister Virginia. Two more would follow: twin brothers Neil and Brandon.
Candace's way with mechanical things was plainly evident even during her childhood, as she would often complete Lego sets intended for much older children with perfunctory ease and enjoy them for a couple of weeks, before taking them apart and building entirely new creations of her own imagination. Indeed, the floor of her bedroom would often be a minefield of sharp Lego pieces that only she (not having to worry about stepping on any of them) could navigate with ease. She dabbled in minecraft and roblox, but was drawn more towards creating things in the real world with her own hands. Robot Wars was a near-obsession, and she still has some of her crayon drawings of her favourite competitors and orginal concepts. Trips to science fairs followed, as did subscriptions to magazines like Popular Mechanics (which soon turned into online subscriptions). She confounded many of her teachers because she didn't seem to have a particular aptitude for mathematics, being no more than slightly above average. It seemed as if her engineering abilities were intuitive in a way that other people couldn't understand.
While she featured in a number of human interest articles (often with a well-intentioned but somewhat condescending tone) as a young prodigy and an inspiration, Candace's teenaged years were particularly difficult. She struggled not only with her self-perception and confidence as somebody with a disability, but also with her budding sexuality. She found herself mostly, though not solely attracted to other girls. She tried to ignore these feelings for a few years, and her parents, thinking that her withdrawal stemmed from a lack of confidence, attempted to push her towards healthy heterosexual relationships. They also sent her to a summer camp for other disabled children and enrolled her in a wheelchair basketball program. Candace enjoyed the activity, and it provided an outlet for some of her energy, but she still wasn't all that comfortable with her feelings and was beginning to understand that she just wasn't going to fit the norm. Compounding these issues were the emergence of her latent powers. Candace found that sometimes, when she was working on an engineering project, the pieces would move as she visualized them. At first, she was afraid. She wondered if she was going crazy. Then, she studied the phenomenon and began using it to her benefit, though she became somewhat reclusive in her tinkering for fear of anybody finding out. Combined with her insecurities about her sexuality, Candace went through a year or two of being deeply reclusive.
Enter her father. It was a particularly cool April morning when Hephaestus appeared in front of her. She almost instantly recognized him as the bearded man from her infancy. The first thing that he said to her, with all of the tact and good grace in the world was "You're a lesbian, kiddo, or at least something close. Also, I'm your father." It wasn't the easiest of conversations. One party was confused and terrified and the other had never had much of a way with words nor much use for etiquette. However, her immortal father not only explained the extend of Candace's abilities, he also taught her how to control them, by demonstrating them himself. Further conversations followed, eventually involving her family. Disbelief turned into acceptance, and even into embrace. Candace, more sure of herself, reemerged from her shell and graduated with a scholarship that allowed her to attend MIT overseas.
In campus life, she found her calling, The stories of other people who had struggled growing up resonated with her, and she became strongly committed to setting the world right, aware that she had been gifted more power than most by the unique circumstances of her conception and birth. She was active in student groups, campus politics and social life, and int he social movements of the day. Her long red hair was cut to shoulder-length, the left side of it buzzed, and its tips died all colours of the rainbow. Following graduation, driven by curiosity, she decided to take a couple of years off before starting her Master's and visit the city of New Celestia that her father had told her about.
Name: Abigail Miller
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Appearance: Abby's a country girl and she looks like one. She's tall, a bit gangling, but pretty, with long straight blonde hair and a smattering of freckles. She has a wide open, apple pie American look about her and usually wears a large grin with a slight but distinct gap tooth. She can usually be found wearing jeans or jean shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, sometimes with a plaid flannel shirt over top. She'll always accessorize with a small silver necklace with a crucifix and sometimes a cowgirl hat or wide-brimmed straw hat.
Sexuality: straight
Godly ancestor: Demeter (Greek goddess of plants, crops, and harvest)
Son/daughter or further removed: Great-granddaughter
Relationship with godly ancestor: Abby has met and spoken with her Godly ancestor, but little else. Though there is an old family story on her father's side that they're descended from the Greek Goddess Demeter, it's never taken seriously. However, they've always had unusually good luck with their crops and all of them have been sunny, good-looking people. Abby was rather surprised to find out about New Celestia, that she could interact with it, and that the Greek gods (and all of the others, for that matter) were real. It was only recently that she actually met her divine ancestor. They spoke at length and Demeter saw her as a dear thing.
Relationship with mortal family: Abby is one of a large brood of corn farmers from Nebraska. They've always been close as a family and they've been farmers of some sort for almost three hundred years. Thanks to a combination of consistently strong harvests, sound investment, and the lord's blessing (or so they believe), they've expanded their property, moving ever further westward and becoming rather successful. They've also dabbled in equine sports, and Abby enjoys horseback riding with her two brothers, two sisters, and numerous cousins and family friends. As the middle child, she's always been a bit rambunctious and active, but her father in particular adores her energy, curiosity, and sense of humour. Abby is close in age with her older sister and younger brother, and all three were in high school at the same time and shared a large circle of friends. She loves her family too much to want to stay in New Celestia for long.
Powers: Abby isn't exceptionally powerful, though she has the ability to control plants to a limited degree, and to make them either grow quickly or wither. She can cheer people up just by entering a room, and everything will seem just a bit opeful, and more beautiful. However, she needs to be in at least a neutral mood in order for this to work. Her moods have a strong effect on the plant life around her. Happiness will make things grow and prosper. Sadness will make them wither and die. Anger will make them become hard, thorny, and potentially poisonous. Excitement will bring out their colours, make them taste better, and make flowers bloom.
Personality: Abby's a happy, well-adjusted young woman from rural Nebraska. She has a sunny, innocent-seeming disposition and can come across as a total hayseed, though she knowingly plays this up for laughs. She can be a bit of a clown, and she may not be quite as naive as she seems. Abby's definitely a bit on the adventurous side, and can git into mischief, though none of it is particularly serious. She's curious by nature and is going to do what she is going to do, though she can get sucky when she doesn't get what she wants. She also has some reckless tendencies, though these haven't come back to bite her in the ass just yet. Abby's rather socially conservative, though she'll always try to be friendly to anyone. She's also a devout Lutheran and regular churchgoer, though it's more out of a sense of community and normalization where she comes from. She's also not sure what to make of the fact that she's actually descended from a Greek deity. In terms of philosophy, she'd rather be water than rock and tends to just go with the flow.
Bio: Not much has ever happened in Abby's past. She's grown up in a normal, happy family, and has never wanted for anything. They may not be rich, but they definitely have money. She had a loving upbringing, complete with all of the usual summer vacations, friends, sleepovers, and pool parties. Her oldest brother, Danny, is currently serving in the armed forces and has been posted to Fort Worth before being deployed overseas. She decided to take a gap year after graduating high school, and since she had nothing better to do, she accompanied him there. There had always been the old stories in the family, and they came up again one night while she and Danny were sharing a few beers (shh! Don't tell anyone that she was underage drinking). On a whim or a dare, she decided to investigate and found out that not only was the place real, but she could enter it, while none of her acquaintances could see it. She's determined to spend some time here soaking this place in and learning all about it under the cover story of roadtripping across the country with some new friends.
Name: Matthew Roderick-Wright
Gender: Male
Age: 68
Appearance: Matthew is an older man of mixed African American and Caucasian ancestry, still fit and in good shape into his late sixties. He has a full head of thick grey hair, kept close-cropped and professionally short. He often dresses in jeans, a golf shirt - always tucked in - and a comfortable pair of running shoes. He can often be found wearing a US Army pin and sometimes a Chicago Cubs baseball cap.
Sexuality: This is even a question?!
Godly ancestor: Mars
Son/daughter or further removed: Grandson
Relationship with godly ancestor: Matthew grew up knowing of his unique ancestry and sought to live up to it. In the jungles of Vietnam, he was fueled by thoughts of doing this legacy proud. As a soldier, he excelled in waging war and indeed, Mars looked with pride upon this mortal grandson of his. Shying away from the less... martial aspects of his ancestor, he remained in the army following the end of the war, rising to the rank of lieutenant colonel and commanding an armoured division during Operation Desert Storm. Having retired with full honours a handful of years ago, he decided to pursue his interest in his family history by moving to New Celestia and meeting with Mars for the first time. There was no emotional outpouring - just a heartfelt handshake and a long conversation between two professional military men who shared a deep respect for each other - exactly the way that Matthew had always pictured the encounter.
Relationship with mortal family: Matthew's parents are long gone, though he is in occasional contact with his brother Lawrence, who is a corn farmer in southern Illinois. The two of them go to see Cubs games together at least a couple of times per year, and Matthew occasionally dotes on his great nephews and nieces, though he thinks that they're being raised to be soft and indulged and that a bit of discipline would've done them good. He has no wife or children of his own, though he was briefly married to a woman named Costanza in the early eighties. His stepson, Roger, was a disappointment to him, and the two of them do not speak to each other at all.
Powers: At age 68, Matthew is still absurdly fast and strong, and has 20/20 vision and excellent hearing. He knows his way around multiple types of weapons and can figure out how to best use them instinctively. He is incredibly tough and difficult to injure in spite of his advanced age, and possesses mildly superhuman endurance. He has a natural tactical acumen that extends past the battlefield into virtually any situation involving conflict. Matthew also has a green thumb, but has never really developed this talent. He keeps a nice cactus garden, he supposes.
Personality: Matthew is a tough, no-nonsense retired veteran and a career military man. While he is deeply socially conservative in most ways, he is a firm backer of civil rights and a quiet but unflinching warrior in the fight against racism. He believes strongly that attitudes help to shape reality and as a result, you will never hear him drop an 'N-bomb' under any circumstances. Matthew has an oldschool sense of honour and duty, but he can also be aggressive and a bit of a bully. He is used to a chain of command and does best when part of one. Matthew will not complain about what he sees as 'petty concerns', nor will he 'stand for any special snowflake bullshit'. As a result, he holds a lot inside, and he's a bit of a lonely man with his share of regrets, standing on his pride and military service as the sun begins to set on his life.
Bio: Matthew and his younger brother Lawrence were born during the baby boom in Chicago to an African-American mother and a mixed-race father who had served with distinction during the second world war but been prevented from rising above the rank of captain due to his race. His parents both worked: his father in a factory, and his mother doing room cleaning at a hotel. Matthew wasn't old enough to remember much of the first phase of the civil rights movement, but he still remembers where he was and what he was doing when he heard about the death of Martin Luther King.
Matthew was an average student during his high school days, but he was an incredible natural athlete, especially as a football running back. Only a fiery and violent disposition and a lack of discipline prevented him from being offered multiple tier one scholarships. In any event, he still ended up playing in the NCAA for a year before the Vietnam War draft was held and he was called to service. Though he considered refusing, like his hero Muhammad Ali, he decided to answer the call in order to honour his father, who had fallen ill and been forced to take a leave of absence from his job.
In the jungles of Vietnam, Matthew truly came to life for the first time. He was cited for numerous acts of personal bravery well above and beyond the call of duty. He proved to be excellent at sniffing out ambushes ahead of time, thwarting enemy plans, and extricating himself and his fellow soldiers from impossible situations. It wasn't long before the medals, commendations, and promotions came flooding in. Whatever he may have felt about the flimsy justifications for the war, Matthew pushed it all aside. His job was elimination of the enemy in the name of his country, and he carried it out with loyalty and gusto. The conclusion of the war was something that he had seen coming, but at this point, he was already firmly entrenched in the military life. During the relatively conflict-free eighties, (despite the incendiary rhetoric being tossed about between cold war rivals) he made an attempt to settle down with the widow of one of his Vietnam buddies who he'd kept in touch with. However, her teenaged son was a delinquent, and Matthew's attempts to set the boy straight drove a wedge between them and resulted in the marriage failing after only a couple of years.
After that, he dedicated his life to serving his country, and did so as a captain and then a lieutenant colonel in the conflicts of the eighties, nineties, and early twenty-first century. That there was something more than human blood running through his veins, Matthew was certain, and he'd been told the family secret by his father upon his passing from cancer at age 56. Upon his retirement, Matthew decided to pursue this interest all of the way to New Celestia, half expecting it to have been little more than some elaborate last joke of his father's.
Name: Zack Martin
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Appearance: Zack is a tall, lanky man with spiky jet black hair and a sharp goatee. He has a white skunk stripe running through his hair and bright blue eyes. His features are best described as sharp and fall somewhere between severe and handsome. He can commonly be seen wearing a pair of torn, faded blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather motorcycle riding jacket with blue highlights on the shoulders and cuffs. He has a handful of piercings in his ears and several tattoos on his biceps, forearms, and calves.
Sexuality: Straight
Godly ancestor: Fulgora (Roman Goddess of Lightning)
Son/daughter or further removed: Son
Relationship with godly ancestor: Zack has known his mother for a lot longer than most of the divine offspring in New Celestia have known theirs. They are in regular contact and she has helped Zack to make the most of his powers.
Relationship with mortal family: Zack never knew or met his father. He had a number of foster families, but most of them just annoyed him and the feeling was mutual between them. He doesn't really have a family aside from his mother.
Powers: Zack can create, control, and resist lightning and electrical charges, He also has some powers over positive and negative magnetism. He can become a human embodiment of lightning, and, as such can appear wherever and whenever lightning does, effectively using it as a form of teleportation.
Personality: Zach is irreverent, abrasive, and snarky, with a deeply cynical streak. He exhibits a consistent failure to take much of anything seriously except for his work on cars and motorcycles. Zack has strong opinions on a lot of inconsequential things, such as music taste, clothing style, choice of alcoholic drinks, and television series, though it isn't alwasy easy to tell if he's trolling you or not. He also think that Donald Trump is hilarious and awesome but should "die like the fucking cunt he is". Zack isn't actually a misanthrope. He loves women, especially when they shut up about their feelings and just hop into bed with him. The truth is that he's just tired of people. They're all broadly the same and most bore him. Most are self-obsessed. They're usually friendly enough, but there's always social politics with people and he'd rather work on squeezing an extra half-second out of his totally bitchin' new ride while listening to some face melting metal on his headphones than deal with that shit. Zack doesn't care if you feel ignored by your parents. He doesn't give a rat's ass about your struggles with your gender identity. His level of caring about your recent breakup with your boyfriend/girlfriend equates to precisely zilch. The secret pain and loneliness that you hold inside is a cool story, bro.
Zack's mostly here to laugh at the world and its various forms of pretentiousness while smoking two packs a day, souping up his Camaro, and not giving a fuck. Of course, he's crying inside all the way. The dude has issues - loads of them - but that's what alcohol's for, right?
Bio: Zack's mother is a lightning goddess and his father refused to take take responsibility for him upon his birth and for a couple of years thereafter. Coincidentally (or not) he was struck and killed by a bolt of lightning while walking home from a club one night. Zack spent a few years in an orphanage before being taken in by foster parents. However, their financial situation deteriorated after both of them lost their jobs within months of each other and they were forced to give him up. Zack bounced around between foster families for the next decade or so, leaving him pretty jaded. Without any real attachment to or investment in the people who he was living with, he began to act out in attention-seeking ways or simply for his own amusement. Before long, he developed a reputation as a problem child and any interest in him dried up.
On his fourteenth birthday, he found himself formally adopted by a wealthy, divorced businesswoman named Maria Fulgora. She was, of course, an alias of the Roman goddess who was his biological mother. She moved him to New Celestia and gave him the lowdown on just about everything. It took her a while to make any cracks in his well-practiced wall of hostility, but eventually he came to think that she was kind of cool, mainly just because she didn't try to change him or condescend to him. She just supported what he wanted to do. After that, Zack never wanted for much of anything. He was a complete shit in high school. Some of the older teachers still shudder at his name, and it lives on even in the stories told by current students. However, he managed to graduate with decent marks and f to get through college so that he could run a garage and teach shop. Vehicles and machines are so much easier to deal with than people. They don't talk back, they diagnose their problems honestly, they shut the fuck up when commanded to, and you can hit them when they really piss you off without being sued for assault.
Name: Selena Casillas Ochoa
Gender: Female
Age: 38
Appearance: Selena is a petite woman with tanned skin, and straight black hair with bangs cut to shoulder length with lazerlike precision. She often wears a full skirt suit in either white or black, with a thin pencil skirt and high heels that add a forbidding click to every step that she takes. He makeup is always perfect and her nails are always painted blood red. On sunny days, she will wear a pair of aviator sunglasses that make it impossible to see her eyes.
Sexuality: straight
Godly ancestor: Thanatos
Son/daughter or further removed: Daughter
Relationship with godly ancestor: It used to be very strained, though it has improved in recent years.
Relationship with mortal family: Selena's mother died during childbirth, and she was raised by her aunt and uncle as if she were one of their many children. In fact, while growing up, virtually nobody knew that she wasn't one of theirs. Time and distance have separated them somewhat, though they're still on good terms and she regularly visits on holidays. Of more consequence are her husband, Michael: the son of a minor Chinese water deity, and her daughter Victoria: a synthesis of the two sets of powers. They are her everything.
Powers: Selena has always been deeply uncomfortable with her powers, since she was raised as a devout Catholic and they come from a Greek death god. The most peculiar of these is her apparent age. Though she's approaching forty, she doesn't look a day past her early twenties. Of course, as the offspring of a death god, she possesses the ability to call people into the afterlife with nothing but a touch and intent. In some circumstances, she can also return them to the mortal plane. However, the ability that has made Selena the most uncomfortable is her power over pain and grief. With but a look and a thought, she can inflict immense amounts of it upon people, but conversely can relieve it. She herself can move at will from one plane to the other. Though while she is in the land of the dead, her body remains behind in the living world and is completely vulnerable. Finally, just like her father, she can sprout a pair of ethereal wings from her back and use them to fly. They look almost exactly like angel's wings except for the fact that they're pitch black.
Personality: Selena is a warm and caring individual by upbringing, but it contrasts with the detached and distant yet coolly benevolent nature bequeathed to her by her father. Every day of her life she remains locked in a struggle against that side of herself. Selena can laugh at a good joke, but she's not very good at making any herself. Her marriage has been blessed with genuine passion as well as understanding and a great many common interests. In most ways, Selena is utterly typical of an upper middle class woman in her late thirties, from her taste in media to her set of interests, to her social and political opinions, which lean conservatively left but little more.
Bio: Selena grew up cursing her father, whoever he was, for leaving. She always assumed that he was some no good gangbanger. She was raised by her aunt and uncle and it was a largely happy upbringing, though they were rather poor and often struggled. Just having her in the room often made them feel better.
Taking this a step further, she got into medicine and after years of schooling, eventually became a doctor. It was right after her graduation that she was told the truth about her birth by her aunt. The old woman was rather skeptical herself, but she had never known her sister to lie. Upon investigating New Celestia herself, Selena was contacted by her father and was horrified to find out that not only was he real, but he was the very epitome of a cool, handsome, emotionless death god. She wanted nothing whatsoever to do with him, not understanding (or perhaps not wanting to understand) that he saw it as his job to ease pain as well.
Moving her practice to New Celestia, she did well for herself and eventually fell in love with one of her clients, a man named Michael Xu, the son of a Chinese water deity. Before long, they had gotten married and Selena had gotten pregnant. She worked for as long as was medically responsible, before temporarily referring her clients to another physician while she went on maternity leave. Her daughter, Victoria, is the light of her life, and was born seven years ago. That was also the time that her father picked to come back into her life. They talked rather openly about her resentment. He admitted that he had probably inadvertently killed her mother. There was nothing that could be done to change the past. However, they could attempt to have a future.
Name: Mario Manzetti
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Sexuality: Straight, but those gay people are cool too
Godly ancestor: Cloacina (Roman Goddess of sewers)
Son/daughter or further removed: Son
Relationship with godly ancestor: As a generally very hands-on type of deity, she's been involved in his and his brother's lives since day one and the bonds between them are deep and strong.
Relationship with mortal family: Mario was raised by his father and his nonno and nonna, and the old couple spoke a good deal of Italian around the house, so he's actually fluent in it. They would dote on him and his twin brother Luigi endlessly, though their divine mother was also a fairly regular guest. The two boys grew up aware of their unique heritage and naturally went into the plumbing business despite their father being an advertising executive and a loving but often absentee parent. Mario and Luigi are about as close as siblings can be. They share similar tastes in food (both love mushrooms) and clothing (they're both suspender-wearing hipsters, though Mario prefers red and Luigi prefers green), and even in women. There are these two: Daisy and Peach, that the brothers have been going on with for a while, but they still can't quite figure out who's gonna date who, you know?
Powers: Mario is just incredible with all types of metal and piping. He has an amazing ability to dig underground at high speed and can visualize where he is underground at all times, in addition to being a repairman extraordinaire. He's very resistant to heat and can even generate low level fires from his hands to help unclog particularly nasty blockages. Mario can sense poison from a considerable distance away and has the ability to purify anything, making it safe to eat or drink. He can quench thirst and prevent the symptoms of liquid-borne diseases and infections. He's also just damned tough and doesn't care about getting dirty. All of his abilities are shared by Luigi.
Personality: Mario's an easygoing guy most of the time, with an ironic sense of humour and a cool, laid back demeanor. He's a good cook and likes a good beer while watching the game, and he's started to get a bit paunchy as a result. When under extreme stress, he can demonstrate a fiery temper, and is often prone to panic and hyperactivity.
Bio: Mario's pretty much been happy as a clam for most of his life. He's been coming and going from New Celestia for a while. So has Luigi. They've had some adventures, rescues some princesses, had some badass go-kart races, and chilled with some sentient apes along the way.
The Mimic was a CS submitted for Justice League Unlimited a few years back. I (and a few others) thought that it was a novel and interesting concept, but it was rejected. I guess it was just a bit too 'out there'.
Name:
n/a
Alias:
The Mimic, Marjorie Dawes
Age:
Unknown, but young, or at least seems to be. When taking the form of Marjorie, late twenties.
The Mimic has only one power: it can become something or someone else. It is not sure how it does this or what its limitations are. It only knows that it cannot become anything exceptionally large or small. Perhaps it cannot become another thing for too long. In any event, it has never tried.
Weaknesses:
The Mimic itself possesses a type of sentience (if indeed, it can be called sentient) that is profoundly different from that of humans and most alien races so far encountered. In its base form, it either cannot or will not verbalize. It takes on not only the abilities of things that it transforms into, but also their weaknesses and, if those things are sentient, some semblance of their characters. It’s believed that The Mimic grows more sentient by living as others. From them, it learns all of the constructs and values that govern human society, such as right and wrong, strong and weak, and male and female. It is learning that these things are not as easy to define as they would initially seem to be.
The longer that The Mimic spends imitating something else, the more that it desires to be that thing and the more impact that thing will have on its character. Obviously, this can be a double edged sword.
Appearance:
In what most people consider its basic form, though nobody truly knows, The Mimic is a roughly watermelon-sized and shaped blob in a pale greyish-blue that usually hovers two to six feet above the ground. It seems to have a fixed shape, though this will change in colour and texture depending on its impression of the people around it. Sometimes, when faced with unusual or unexpected stimuli, and particularly when someone’s behaviour does not match his or her words, it forms exaggerated faces, almost as if it’s lampooning its surroundings. It seems to be able to turn itself into a flat, disc-like object with a hole in the center. In terms of human forms, it favours that of a young woman with red hair, freckles, and mousy features. Her hair is often pulled back into a messy ponytail, she’s wearing jeans, a sleeveless t-shirt, and a light button-up sweater. Nobody knows why The Mimic chooses this form so often. Perhaps even it doesn’t know.
Character Evolution:
The Mimic isn’t sure what its purpose is. Perhaps it has no inherent purpose and must find one. It doesn’t know, and so it will learn so that it can know.
Bio:
The Mimic does not know what it is. It does not know if it is a living thing or a piece of technology, or if it can be both at the same time. It does not know where it is from. In fact, it does not know when it is from either. Time is a concept that it is attempting to understand. Really, The Mimic does not know what it can do. It has noticed that it takes the form and the qualities of other things around it, so long as they are not excessively large or infinitesimally small. It is not sure how it does this or even why. It just does. If there is any mechanism governing what it decides to mimic, it doesn’t understand how that mechanism works. It just chooses things and becomes them unless there is a direct threat. Then it responds by becoming something more powerful and neutralizing the threat. It is not sure why it does this. The Mimic is not much of anything, after all. The Mimic does not know much of anything either, but one thing is certain: it is learning.
Notes:
The Mimic does not need to take notes. When it sees something, it understands all of its physical details immediately and is incapable of not understanding them after that.
Sample Post:
On the first day of the new Justice League, there are throngs of well-wishers outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the new superheroes. Among them is a small, red-haired young woman with mousy features, freckles, and dimples. She stands beside a streetlight on an uncluttered part of the sidewalk and whoops and cheers with the others. Nearby, there is a teenaged boy with shaggy blonde hair and a pair of beat up skateboarding shoes. She studies him carefully, closely, for just long enough not to unsettle him. She wouldn’t want to make the subject uncomfortable. It would be rude and unprofessional.
On the second day, hanging around that same streetlight, the teenaged boy whoops and cheers with thousands of others. Not far away is a portly middle-aged woman with dark skin and hair pulled neatly back in a bun. He looks at her for a second, fidgeting as he gets all of her details down. He’s trying not to sketch her out. That’d be a bit fucked up.
On day three, the middle-aged woman stands beside that same light and adds her voice to the crowd. It’s a bit smaller than it was the past few days, but she remains enthusiastic. Not far away, an old Asian man seems just as energized. He’s wearing a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and socks under his sandals. The woman gets a read on him, notes what she needs to note, and looks away. She’s not trying to make anyone uncomfortable. That’s not how you make the world a better place.
On the fourth and final day, an old Asian man stands in that same spot amid the crowd, beaming and waving as the final group of superheroes walk past. Nearby is chubby young man in his thirties, with a batman shirt and a bag of takeout. The old man decides to take a gander in that direction, but then he reaches up and clutches at his chest. A look of shock and dismay crosses his features. It’s what one would expect and it isn’t. It’s unsettling. A couple of people look in his direction. He slumps to the ground, but when the crowd parts enough to allow others to help him, he is gone without a trace. There is only a fire hydrant close to where he was standing.
Hours later, once the hubbub has died down, a man walks his dog along the sidewalk. The dog stops beside the hydrant, lifts its leg, and lets loose with a foul yellow stream. The Mimic is disgusted. It nearly turns itself into a larger angry dog in response. In the event, it does not, but it feels satisfaction at this reaction nonetheless. It believes, to a certainty of over eighty percent, that it interpreted the construct of ‘disgusting’ accurately while not being in the form of something that would have an innate understanding of such.About ten minutes later, a bus stops in front of the hydrant. When it drives off, there is only an empty sidewalk and a stray cat walking away.
The cat walks into a nearby park. It trots into a public restroom. There is a long period of silence. Washrooms are convenient, The Mimic has learned. They are places of secrecy because of ‘disgusting’. About twenty minutes later, a young woman with red hair, freckles, and mousy features walks out of the washroom, hands tucked into her pockets. She is not the real her. She is The Mimic. She is attempting to understand superheroes. She is reviewing right and wrong. Insofar as she can determine, it seems that the latter is more prevalent but the former is received more positively. Is it due to a scarcity effect? Why do these beings consider a more difficult, less common, and statistically less materially rewarding behaviour to be more desirable? The Mimic does not understand, and it wants to understand. Perhaps it can learn about ‘good’ by doing ‘good’. Perhaps it can do so as a superhero.
The young woman is so wrapped up in her thoughts that she doesn’t see the man come up behind her until he is almost upon her. She takes a few steps back and he pulls out a knife. “I want your money, not your life,” he demands, “But if you try to make a move, I won’t think twice.” The Mimic bolts. This is a bad man, it determines. This man is threatening it with physical harm. The Mimic runs behind a tree. From the other side emerges Batman. Batman kicks the bad man so hard that there’s a sound from his abdomen that indicates bodily injury. He crawls away, coughing up blood, eyes wide with fear. The Mimic wonders if it just did a bad thing. Then it decides that it’s safer as a cat.
This CS was developed for a fantasy RPG called End + Sleep that sadly died out before it could really get going. In retrospect, I feel like playing an archetype could've been fun, but the character also sparkled a bit too much for her supposed race and background.
Kaeli Aldavere
Genius is one percent inspiration, ninety percent...OUCH! Argh!! Goddammit that hurt...
27 | Elf | No Mage-Eyes
P E R S O N A L I T Y
❖ Inquisitive ❖ Ballsy ❖ A bit odd ❖ Meticulous planner ❖ Brilliant ❖ Enthusiastic ❖ Flighty and easily distracted ❖ Occasionally academically haughty
Kaeli is an oddball and eccentric to the very core, especially by Elven standards. Sometimes stereotypes are exaggerated and sometimes they fit to a tee. Put simply, she's one of those people who wants to know how everything works, can usually give you an educated guess right off the bat, and - given enough time - can usually replicate it. In general, she is obsessed with technology, preserving it, repairing it, and improving it, a passion which goes far beyond her people's rather practical and uninspiring relationship with things mechanical. On projects of great import or that have struck a particular chord with her, Kaeli will work tirelessly, with near-boundless enthusiasm, an eye for detail, and a need for perfection that borders on the insane. Social interaction, sleep, and most anything else be damned.
If a given goal is not a project but an endeavour, then she will go to great lengths, often at not-inconsiderable personal danger, in order to see it through. Otherwise, she is curious and inquisitive but flighty, branching off tangentially at once in terms of ideas, conversation, and projects. She enjoys meticulously planning more than she does following through, and collects and keeps things that most people would consider junk simply because she sees them as works in progress, interesting, or simply because she wants to be prepared for any eventuality. In particular, she enjoys solving the problem of her own strange body and finding ways to do things that would seem to be beyond her physical capabilities.
Just as Kaeli can lose herself for hours in a project, she can lose herself for hours when talking about a subject or with with a person whom she finds genuinely interesting. This tendency, alarmingly aberrant among elves, has only grown more pronounced since she left her homeland. When engaged in these fits of passionate gabbing, she has been accused of talking 'at' people as opposed to talking 'with' them. Her standards in terms of 'interesting', however, are higher than she probably realizes. People are usually just surroundings as opposed to being genuine 'company'. They're an audience for her genius, a sounding board for her ideas, and the source of interesting problems and opportunities to be solved or seized. Some also make great guinea pigs.
In terms of romance, Kaeli thinks about it from time to time just as any red-blooded woman might. Then she shuts it out of her mind. She is keenly aware that society at large does not consider her attractive. Like most elves, she also can't 'do' smalltalk and flirting, and she isn't even any good at the social rituals expected of her own people, let alone the more elaborate and frighteningly involved ones so beloved of humans. She often ends up simply lurking and dreaming. In many ways, she's a dreamer. In many ways she holds delusions of grandeur and achievement on an epic scale. However, she's self-aware enough to see some of these for what they are. There's a thin streak of bitterness that runs through her thinking and it's a product of the subtle but ever-present discrimination that she has faced growing up with a very visible deformity. Elves are not a warm, fuzzy, communal people by any stretch of the imagination, but her upbringing was marked by complete disinterest from even close family, often tipping over into utter neglect.
A P P E A R A N C E
The first thing that stands out about Kaeli is the fact that she looks like half a person. The result of a rare birth defect, she was born completely without legs, not dissimilar to Kanya Sesser or Jen Bricker. Beyond that, she's rather unremarkable: petite and pale, with white, wavy, shoulder length hair often pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. It's all-but preternaturally unruly, though sometimes she can fuss it into place. Kaeli's facial features tend towards 'mousy' but actually somewhat attractive, though she doesn't put much effort into her appearance. Indeed, the closest thing to makeup that she's known to wear is the series of oil stains and smudges that can be found on her hands, cheeks, and clothes. These compete with a number of small nicks, burns, and scars from too much tinkering. She's also considered quite stocky and muscular by Elven standards due to the upper body strength that she needs in order to get around.
Kaeli's clothing reflects both necessity and her eccentricity. Both of her pointed upper ears are pierced in multiple places, and she's not averse to self-adornment, though it's rarely with the shiny jewellery common to her race. Rather, she owns a necklace made from a very light silver chain, some old screws, a handful of bolts, and a couple of washers. She can also always be found wearing either a pair of round-rimmed tinted shades or goggles that she uses to protect her eyes from the harsh sunlight or hold back her unruly hair. Kaeli wears a custom-made garment on her truncated lower body made of a rough, sandy-coloured fabric, with a thick, cushioned leather pad at the bottom that she uses to sit and 'walk' on. Generally, she dresses in a form-fitting shirt in either purple, forest green, or crimson with a row of buttons running up the middle. Its sleeves are invariably rolled up. A brown leather belt with a prodigious number of pouches, clips, and various doodads rests snugly upon her hips, and a second, thinner belt encircles her upper waist. Filling out the ensemble is a bandolier with several pockets running from her left shoulder to her right hip, where it's clipped into her belt. A pair of elbow pads adorns her arms, and tough, worn out fingerless gloves with protective mitts that flip over complete the outfit. Kaeli usually carries a backpack that seems slightly too large for her, and when it's cooler, she bundles up in a sandy-coloured hooded hip cloak that effectively covers her whole body.
H I S T O R Y
Kaeli Kinseld was the second girl as well as the third and final child born to parents of high standing. Her father was the town recordkeeper and brother of the thane while her mother was a jeweler of some repute. Due to her startling deformity, her birth was a bitter disappointment and it was hoped that she would die quietly in infancy, lest she grow up to be a burden. In the event, she not only survived, but grew into a curious, lively, and (with the exception of her missing legs) healthy child. Unlike her older siblings, Kaeli was not groomed for an advantageous marriage or a lofty position, either political or professional. As a result, her education was sparse and was piggybacked upon that of her slightly older brother, Heddenrad, who was privately tutored in - aside from instruction on recordkeeping - what were considered the classical Magdalenese subjects: linguistics, smithing, hunting, mathematics, natural philosophy (science), and jewellery-making.
In the event, while her brother approached his studies dutifully and at times diligently, Kaeli tore through her books with an appetite for learning that - while it was somewhat selective - bordered on the obsessive. The walls of her bedroom were often filled with drawings and partially-completed sketches, and her young mind was filled with ideas. In particular, she gravitated towards all things mechanical and electrical: understanding them, disassembling and reassembling them, and making them function. If she was hopeless at hunting, too small for smithing, and unenthusiastic about crafting finely filigreed and delicate jewellery, she had nimble, dexterous fingers, an eye for detail, and a keen intuition for the workings of anything with moving pieces.
For the most part, however, people paid little attention to the girl, except as a curiosity, and she was left largely to her own devices. The one exception was Kaeli's (really her brother's) natural philosophy and mathematics tutor, a prematurely cantankerous academic named Tasten Aldavere. He spent extra hours fostering what he believed was a brilliant young mind, and his attitudes, mannerisms, and methods had a profound impact on her development. In her mid-teens, she was betrothed to him, even though he was nearly twenty years her senior. In reality, it wasn't a marriage founded on love, since Tasten was rather clearly homosexual. Rather it was a union of kinship and mutual respect, carefully calculated by the pair to afford Kaeli both some independence from her family as well as some monetary attention.
For a handful of years, things went well. Kaeli continued to educate herself and earned the respect of a notable portion of Magdalene's academic community. Even her father, who had advocated for exposing her to the elements during her infancy, came to appreciate her gifts and even fund some of her pet projects. Then her uncle, the local thane, made the grave mistake of defying the Alfking of Magdalene. Exactly what happened is not something that she will ever talk about, perhaps because she has never taken much interest in politics. A ruler who had for Kaeli's entire life seemed distant and mildly benevolent struck with sudden, ruthlessly efficient ferocity, purging her entire family. A harmless and somewhat useful curiosity, she was spared, inherited a small portion of her family's fortune, and placed under house arrest. Driven to depression by the restriction on her ability to move about freely and to tinker and scrounge outside of the confines of her home (where literally all of the best stuff was) and sensing that Tasten was likely to protest (thereby putting him in the line of fire), she slipped out of her cellar in a small wine barrel, and arranged to have herself smuggled out of town.
With no choice but to end up far away from home and, to a lesser extent, curious about the mysteries of the world outside of the deep forests of Magdalene, she began traveling the roads of Invernier. Kaeli learned quickly and out of necessity how to cover large distances, where to hide, as well as who and what to avoid, while gradually using up her coin. She earns a sporadic income by repairing simple things well below the level of her expertise whenever she sets herself down for a handful of weeks as well as occasionally appearing in performances similar to sideshows. She doesn't particularly enjoy those jobs, but they put coin in her purse and provide her with free and easy travel.
I N V E N T O R Y
Kaeli carries a small, lightweight, and finely-crafted tool set with her at all times. She has a handful of semi-functional electrical lights, a magnifying glass, her wedding ring, various replacement parts for common mechanical items, a needle and thread, a few changes of clothes, a switchblade, and a couple of cans of something like improvised pepper spray, with different varieties effective in repelling different common threats. She's working on auditory weapons as well and on extending the range of the sprays. She swears that she'll finish eventually.
O T H E R
Even with legs, Kaeli would be considered small. Without them, she's absolutely tiny (maybe 2'6" and 55 lbs) and excellent at hiding in places where most people wouldn't even bother look. She can hold her breath for an extremely long time, remain still and quiet for extended periods, and go for longer than most without food and water. Conversely, she obviously moves at a slower pace than most people, expends more energy in doing so, struggles with tasks that require size, and tends to have her skills met with a certain skepticism in most places that she visits.
An old CS for a survival RPG called Absolom. It's too bad that this thing died quickly. It would've been fun to play such a singleminded character with such strong convictions:
Name: Jacques Berthier
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Appearance: Jacques is a tall, strongly built Caucasian man with a bristly blonde beard. He used to have a handful of tattoos, but has gone to great pains to have them removed.
Background / Hometown: Jacques is a proud French Canadien from Sept-Iles, Quebec. Raised in a family that strictly resisted the American occupation, there was little doubt that he'd become involved with terrorism the NFLQ (Nouveau Front de Liberation du Quebec) as soon as he was old enough. Indeed, he became one of the boldest members within the separatist cause, spearheading a number of attacks on cultural institutions that were deemed to be responsible for the growing 'Americanization' of the proudly Francophone former province. He also became involved with black flag anarchism and struck repeatedly at multinational corporations. Eventually, his identity was discovered and he was forced to go on the run.
When unknown forces in the employ of the government captured his parents and younger sister to force him out of hiding, he crossed a moral event horizon. In his head, he bade them farewell and swore revanche upon those who had been responsible. Moving from safehouse to safehouse, Jacques became a highly sought-after figure in the push to crush the growing (and increasingly violent) Quebec independence movement. Finally, supported by a small paramilitary force and the chaos of Fourth of July celebrations (known as 'Occupation Day' in Quebec), he made it into the governor's house and gunned him down in cold blood along with his entire family, including his five year old daughter. Jacques then turned himself in, ready for a state execution. However, cognizant of the unstable situation in Quebec, the UAC government opted to make him disappear down some hole instead of turning him into a public martyr.
Rap Sheet: High Treason, Terrorism, multiple counts of murder, sedition, civil disobedience, unlawful possession of a weapon, unlawful possession of banned substances, etc.
Personality: Jacques lives and breathes his cause. Among those he trusts, he can become jovial, jocular, and fond of drink, but nobody on Absolom will see that side of him. While he views Mexicans as a fellow occupied people, and will tolerate English-Canadians, he harbours an extreme degree of hatred around Americans, often refusing to speak with them at all, or doing so mockingly in French. He is unflinchingly sarcastic and biting in his observations, and not a bit bitter. Jacques will willingly put himself through extreme discipline just to prove a point, and he will not break. He will lie, cheat, and steal if he has to and if he thinks it serves the cause. He cares very little what these people think of him and he's sure that he thinks even less of them.
Skills: Jacques is a large, strong guy, reasonably fit and possessed of considerable endurance and sheer physical toughness. He knows how to survive from the land and on the run in general. He's not a trained fighter or soldier, but can handle himself in hand-to-hand combat and knows his way around a gun. His real specialty lies in traps and explosives. He can improvise something deadly given even the rawest ingredients.
Motivation: The Cause. Vive La Quebec Libre!
Gear: An expensive watch that had been his grandfather's.
A CS for a post-apocalyptic survival RP called Deadland Wasteland. Yes, they're conjoined twins. I've always been kind of drawn to the unusual and 'out there'. Also, two heads are better than one, aren't they? These two were actually a ton of fun to play and I regret giving up on them.
Basic Information
Name:
Hannah and Amanda Sinclair
Age:
23
Nationality:
Canadian
Ethnicity:
Caucasian
Sex:
Female
Height:
5'4"
Weight:
151 lbs. (combined)
Eye Color:
Blue-Grey
Hair Color:
Red
Physical Disabilities:
Dicephalic parapagus conjoined twins
Slightly far-sighted
Physical Identifiers
They basically look like a two-headed woman.
Both wear glasses, though Hannah needs them more.
They used to wear yellow contact lenses, though that's largely fallen by the wayside.
There are a handful small of surgical scars on their back and shared shoulder.
Appearance:
Perhaps the twins could be described as a pair of young women with red hair, light skin, and freckles. This alone would make them stand out in a crowd given the relative uncommonness of that complexion. They also show the strong and slightly cleft chin characteristic of many people of their ethnic background. However, these features are secondary, as Hannah and Amanda are instantly unmistakable due to the fact that they're dicephalic parapagus conjoined twins, not dissimilar to Abigail and Brittany Hensel. Given the extremely high incidence of fatal birth defects present in such twins, they are very fortunate to enjoy health that - after a few corrective surgeries during their infancy and early childhood - falls within normal parameters.
Amanda and Hannah are identical, though their freckles (not particularly numerous or pronounced) differ. Hannah usually wears her hair shorter and will sometimes wear either a choker or a bracelet to distinguish herself from her sister. They customize their clothes when need be to fit their wider-than-average shared torso, but often prefer to wear things that are either loose-fitting or can stretch a good deal. They prefer wide-necked, tank, or off the shoulder tops for obvious reasons. Their dressing style can best be described as either casual or, at times, 'look at me, I'm a gamer gril.' They've had to focus on practicality since everything went pants a few months back.
Amanda and Hannah were born in Kamloops, British Columbia, Canada, in the year 2088, the second and third (Amanda jokingly refers to herself as the older twin) children of Matthew and Evelyn Sinclair. Informed before their birth of their situation and the likelihood of them dying in infancy, their parents did not opt for an abortion. After crossing a number of important hurdles, the twins emerged as happy, healthy children, their lives understandably the focus of intense public curiosity and media attention. While their parents did their best to strike a balance between appeasing the demand for information and raising the girls normally, by the time that they started the first grade, they were well aware of just how different and special they were.
While some dicephalus twins manage to co-ordinate the fine motor control needed to master everyday tasks, doctors advised caution and patience when the girls were young. Thankfully, this proved largely unwarranted. Amanda and Hannah seem to be able to anticipate each other's movements perfectly and rarely need to communicate in order to co-ordinate their movements. As their older brother Nate was an avid videogamer, the girls would often play with him. Before long they became deeply interested in videogaming and general geek culture, and this carried through into their teens. With two sets of eyes and two minds to process information, their situational awareness was difficult to beat.
As they progressed through high school, sporadically in and out of the public eye, the two of them made a decision: a 'normal' life and career were not in the cards, and their uniqueness was best embraced and used as a source of profit. Shortly after their eighteenth birthday, Hannah and Amanda moved to Vancouver to try their hands at professional gaming. They also studied programming and public relations on a part-time basis at UBC. Firmly ensconced within the 'geek' scene, they became regular attendees and a sometime attraction at gaming, comic, and anime conferences, often getting involved with cosplay. The twins have always been secure enough in their separate identities to eschew ham-fisted attempts to assert their individuality. The truth is that they have pretty similar personality types and their interests overlap significantly. The only notable difference is that Hannah is slightly more bookish and knowledgeable, while Amanda tends to take the lead and is a better judge of character.
They were in nearby Seattle, doing a series of interviews for the upcoming Emerald City Comicon, when the world ended. Perhaps playing so many videogames and watching so many zombie movies imbued them with the paranoia to survive. Amanda and Hannah mostly just stockpiled necessary items and hid for the first couple of months. They taught themselves to shoot an actual gun and found that it was a bit harder in the real world. Upon hearing the call to Refuge, they made their way there immediately.
Extended Information
Residence:
Vancouver, Canada
Profession:
Professional Gamers (former)
lookouts, scavengers, and programmers (current)
Aligned Faction:
currently unaligned
Relatives:
Matthew Sinclair, father (whereabouts unknown)
Evelyn Sinclair, mother (whereabouts unknown)
Nathan Sinclair, older brother (Vancouver, Canada at last contact)
Personnel Data
Weapons:
A pair of Springfield Armory XD(m) pistols firing .45 ACP rounds.
A pair of Swiss army knives.
Equipment
One pair of night-vision goggles (the second pair malfunctioned), a large hiking backpack, and a laser pointer
Miscellaneous
Amanda: Samsung smartphone, apack of pencil crayons, contact lenses, desalinizing solution, one six-sided die
Hannah: iPhone, a small combination lock, contact lenses, a compass, one six-sided die
Trade Skills:
Not an Easy Mark As professional gamers, Amanda and Hannah possess excellent reflexes and consistently react quickly and decisively to changes in their situation. Their situational awareness is virtually unparalleled, due to their unique physiology and chosen profession. They are extremely difficult to sneak up on.
All Your Code are Belong to Us While no means seasoned professionals when it comes to hacking, the twins understand a decent amount about a handful of different types of code and generally know their way around computers and electronics: both hardware and software.
Talents & Hobbies:
Creativity The twins, especially Amanda, enjoy designing their own cosplay outfits and can sketch pretty ably as well as sew and repair clothing and other materials.
General Knowledge The twins, especially Hannah, have pretty good memories and are knowledgeable about a wide variety of subjects.
Limitations:
Like a Sore Thumb Amanda and Hannah are immediately obvious and stick out like a sore thumb wherever they go. There's no chance of fading into a crowd or simply disappearing. They draw immense attention wherever they go (and not all of it is positive). Usually they embrace it, but sometimes it really starts to wear on them.
Conjoined Though they are young, in reasonable shape, and quite physically capable, Amanda and Hannah are still conjoined twins at the end of the day and their two legs have to carry more weight than most people's do. They're a little bit slower, their balance is a little bit worse, and they tire marginally faster than other people of similar age and physical condition. Though they've been mostly problem-free up to this point, some minor birth anomaly could always rear its head.
A CS for a superhero/metahuman RPG from years ago called 'Collateral Damage'. Sadly, it never got off the ground.
Name: Gary Xu
Gender: Male
Appearance: Gary is a middle aged Chinese man of below average height, solidly built but not carrying any extra weight. He’s clean shaven, with lightly tanned skin and a full head of straight black hair worn professionally short and just starting to grey around the temples. His teeth are unexpectedly perfect, and though he sometimes wears glasses, he generally looks somewhat younger than his 41 years – perhaps mid-thirties. He can usually be found wearing a collared shirt in a hue of pastel with the top button undone, as well as a pair of business slacks and dress shoes. When not working, he prefers a pair of comfortable, slightly worn blue jeans and a golf shirt, or a tracksuit with blue Air Jordans. As one might imagine from this description, he’s fit and in good shape.
Age: 41
Alias: (The Indestructible Man)
Alignment: undecided (he is leaning towards hunter, though likely as more of a facilitator)
Identity: Private and recently discovered
History: Gary was born in 1976 in the small mountain village of Wulingyuan in scenic Hunan province, south-central China. It was the final, violent spasm of the Cultural Revolution, and his parents, who were shop owners, were forced into hiding until a degree of sanity returned. In 1982, the nearby mountains were designated a protected area, and over the following decade, morphed into a significant tourist attraction. Gary’s father, a shrewd and intelligent man, soon expanded his business to provide beverages, tours, and lodging. He used his savings to purchase a second home in the nearby city of Zhangjiajie, and the young family split their time between the two places.
With Deng Xiaoping’s open door policy picking up steam, the area witnessed its first western tourists, and Gary’s father was of the opinion that there would be many more to come. The boy was enrolled in English lessons (which were not easy to come by in those days, especially in a provincial backwater), and given the English name that he still carries. Being able to speak the language of international business proved to be a huge boon to his prospects, and as a teenager, he earned a good deal of extra cash acting as a tour guide and bootleg interpreter to curious Americans, Europeans, and others who came to visit.
By the time that Gary was 20, he decided to make the move to Shanghai, a decision fully supported by his parents. The city was on the precipice of a major boom, and both Gary and his father could sense it.
Living on the cheap in rough and ready Baoshan, a former port town in the process of morphing into an industrial suburb, he paid the bills for most of his first year by working construction jobs. During this time, Gary was involved in more than his fair share of barroom brawls, and found that he could take a punch better than anyone else either he or his new friends knew. However, he didn’t remain in his lowly position for long. With international companies beginning to move their manufacturing to Shanghai, his ability to speak passable English was a major asset and he was soon moved to international customer liaison.
1997 was a huge year for Gary, as he was promoted and used his newfound time off to moonlight as a student at Shanghai’s prestigious Jiao Tong University. While he didn’t have the money or education to formally attend, he bought clothes to look the part, became a regular in the library, and managed to sneak into lectures. There, he not only furthered his knowledge of marketing and economics, but he also made many friends from influential backgrounds. Before long, this young group began formulating plans and studying the marketplace, looking for investment opportunities. Gary worked two jobs, scrimped and saved in order to invest along with the others. Also, in the world at large, a couple of important things happened. Firstly, China opened up to Western media, with the box office hit Titanic becoming a massive cultural phenomenon there. Second, and more importantly, the presence of metahumans became publicly known, resulting in intense interest, debate, and official ambivalence.
Gary had little time to worry about the actions of superheroes and supervillains so long as they didn’t affect him. Over the next three years, he and his group of ‘Young Tigers’ invested in ever larger projects, gradually amassing a fortune. Despite having been promoted again, Gary left his job to focus on becoming a fulltime investor. By 2002, he returned to his former employer, having purchased it outright. With an eye to the future, the young tycoon purchased shares in up and coming social media and online banking platforms as well as local distributors of cellphone technologies. His construction firm thrived during the boom and was able to buy out a number of its rivals. He eventually married and became a father of two, willingly paying the government-imposed fine for having a second child. Over the next decade, Gary managed to get his fingers in a number of industries: English training schools, entertainment, banking, and insurance.
It was in the case of the latter that the metahuman issue impacted Gary the most. His firm was among the first to offer metahuman insurance, but this proved to be a difficult and unpredictable field, prone to losing money. Working closely with the government, he pioneered a public-private approach that combined compensation with both market prospecting and law enforcement. On a personal level, Gary was deeply disturbed by much of what he witnessed, becoming convinced that human beings with such power were inevitably bound to misuse it even if their intentions were good.
Gary himself had become something of a renaissance man by the time that he celebrated his fortieth birthday. He spoke seven languages, was a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and Jeet Kune Do, as well as an avid hiker and cyclist who could also pilot personal aircraft. He maintained a large garage, as well as interests in history, physics, and geology. He attempted to learn guitar but found that he wasn’t particularly talented.
It was shortly after his forty-first birthday that an incident took place which would profoundly alter his world. He was in the middle of a meeting when a fight between a pair of local metas – Suprasonic (a deliberate – though flying – knockoff of Supersonic) and The Mountain – erupted nearby. Gary was in the process of evacuating when the metas did serious damage to the office tower that he was in, causing the elevator cables to snap. The tycoon and two of his long-time associates plunged over four hundred feet to their deaths – except, Gary didn’t die. In fact he was completely uninjured while his colleagues were killed instantly. Removing himself from the building before it collapsed, dazed and confused, he quickly invented a story to account for his survival while the Chinese government cracked down harshly on metahuman activities.
Over the past two months, he has been on leave from his many business ventures, rethinking a number of incidents in his past that he had originally put down to good luck, a strong constitution, and sheer toughness. His father always liked to recount the story of how Gary had fallen into a steep ravine as an infant while his family was running from the red guards, only to be found completely unscathed. Then there had been the time that a carelessly handled i-beam had struck him as a young man working on a construction site, sending him tumbling over forty feet to the ground below. He had dusted himself off and resumed working later that same day. His youthful brawls where he’d been able to swing for the fences while brushing off opponents’ punches had to be reconsidered, as did a waterskiing incident a few years back where he’d hit the water going nearly 100km/h and been completely unharmed. When Gary really thinks about it, he realizes that he can’t remember a single significant injury over the course of his life. The inescapable conclusion is that Gary Xu has been a metahuman the entire time. He is what he has come to hate. How he will deal with that going forward, only he can know.
Personality: Gary’s a man who has lived a lot. He is very competent in a number of areas and possesses a deep – though slightly cynical – understanding of human nature. He enjoys making dry jokes and wry comments, and isn’t afraid of being self-deprecating, though his humour is almost always situational. In general, he’s a friendly guy and a good communicator, with a large circle of friends. However, his relationships with other people are best described as ‘friendly but somewhat distant.’ This extends to his own family. That doesn’t denote a lack of caring, however, just a desire to maintain a healthy distance between himself and other people and a lack of involvement in their everyday and quite frankly mundane affairs.
As one might expect, he’s extremely motivated and determined, almost obsessively so. When Gary sets his mind to something, he will systematically break it down, examine it in detail, and execute a carefully-laid plan. He’s not entirely averse to risk, though he does try to minimize it. Perhaps due to his success in life, Gary is not easily impressed and has little sympathy or use for people who complain or make excuses, especially if they have a background or talents that give them a head start. Though he tries to see the world for the subjective thing that it is, and to always keep his own ego in check, he can be unintentionally arrogant at times.
Skills: Gary is in good though not exceptional shape. Though fairly small, he is a skilled and experienced hand-to-hand fighter, schooled in multiple martial arts, as well as possessing elementary training with some traditional Chinese weapons. He has never fired a gun before and hopes that he’ll never have to. He has, however, piloted personal aircraft and boats up to the size of a small yacht. He enjoys racing his collection of exotic cars at the track.
Gary’s also perceptive and a good negotiator, able to read people and situations quickly and thoroughly. Finally, he is fluent in Mandarin (including his local Hunan dialect), Cantonese, English, and Korean, as well as passable in Italian, Japanese, French, and Spanish.
Abilities: Gary hasn’t really had the chance to become familiar with his metahuman abilities, though he seems to possess only one: he is completely indestructible. Beyond that, he is a bog-standard human.
Equipment: Gary doesn’t really have any special equipment right now, except for an extensive garage full of exotic cars, aircraft, and boats. Obviously, he can’t bring this with him. Beyond that, he has a name that means something in business, dozens of high-level international contacts, and a credit card with no limit. Maybe he’ll build a batcave?
A CS from an RPG called the Dirt Town Orphans, which involved magic. It was rejected because I was treating magic too much like science. This would actually end up being formative in the creation of The Hourglass Order.
[Appearance] Revi’s a smallish, ethnically ambiguous (though he leans towards Caucasian) eight-year old boy, with a big mushroom of black hair. He is utterly unremarkable in every way.
[Personality] Revi doesn’t seem to care much about other people. He’s not antisocial and he doesn’t avoid talking to them. He just doesn’t have much use for them. He doesn’t care a lot for social dynamics. He might be playing with the other children one moment, but decide that he doesn’t want to anymore. He might be in the middle of helping somebody, but if he thinks of something else that he would rather be doing, he’ll just stop. He’ll be polite and friendly if he thinks it will get him what he wants, but he’s just as likely to resort to violence. It’s not that Revi has an active desire to do bad things or hurt people. He just demonstrates an extreme level of self-centredness and social apathy. Friendship is convenient until it isn’t. Loyalty is a way that he knows some people behave. Sometimes it’s useful to be loyal. More than anything, Revi just wants to learn and grow stronger. He wants to become so strong that he won’t have to worry about people hurting him or taking his things. Then he’ll probably be happy.
[History] Revi doesn’t remember much of his past, but he has the strong feeling that it was better than where he is now. Fritz found him a few years ago close to the gates of the city proper, dressed in a little black uniform and clutching a book. Revi doesn’t really try to get along with the other orphans or avoid them. He’s on decent terms with most, but doesn’t have any actual friends that he can think of. He thinks that Oralee’s wings are beautiful. If anybody damages them, he will probably hurt that person much worse. Sometimes hurting people is the only way to get them to do what you want.
[Relations] Fritz was a nice man. He protected Revi and made his life a lot easier. Oralee is beautiful. Revi doesn’t want anything bad to happen to her. Revi supposes that he had or has parents.
[Level] 1
[Skills] Revi is completely literate, unlike most of the people around him. He’s quick thinking, quick-acting, and decisive. He’s small, nimble, and good at hiding.
[Affinity] Water
[Gift] Revi can control just about every aspect of liquids, though, since he’s young, his gift is a bit clumsy. He can control the polarity of water to make it move, to create adhesives, and to deliver mild electrical shocks. Given the right amount of Oxygen and Hydrogen, he should be able to create water seemingly out of thin air, though he can’t quite do this yet. However, he can definitely force existing water from one state to another (solid > liquid > gas) by soothing or exciting the movement of the molecules that comprise it. Also, by separating the component atoms, he can create bubbles of breathable oxygen and a lifting force underwater. Unfortunately, he can’t sustain this for long. Recently, he’s begun to understand that because people are about 80% water, his magic may be able to affect them in more direct and potentially serious ways.
[Inventory] Revi has a large book that he was found with. He has read it many times. Just what’s in it, nobody knows. Sometimes he will carry a stick with him, or capture a frog from the river.
[Other] Revi wants to be safe and happy. He doesn’t care how he goes about attaining that goal, though accruing as much power as possible seems to be the surest way.
A CS for an RPG called Through the Portal that had a really interesting premise but a too-large cast and got bogged down in interpersonal (IC) strife before folding. This character acted as an inspiration for Illusion Arcanists in The Hourglass Order, however.
Name: Rintor Otorik, aka. The Smiler, The Blade of Boshir
Age: 33
Race: Human (Sub-Saharan African in appearance)
Appearance: Rintor is a smallish, very dark-skinned man in his early thirties, wiry but muscular. He has dark grey-brown eyes and is vaguely handsome. However, he suffers from Alopecia Universalis, which renders him completely hairless across his entire body. He usually dresses in a simple black robe, with black leather boots, loose black pants, a handful of fur pelts, and a thick brown leather belt with a trio of leather satchels around his waist. In his youth, he would often wear a mask that covered most of his face. However, he doesn't wear it anymore.
Role: Linguist, assassin, scout
Bio: Rintor comes from Boshir, a powerful fiefdom in the south, where he was the third son in a family from his country’s equivalent of the landed gentry. His father and grandfather had both served with distinction in the king’s army as armed scouts in previous conflicts, rising to become commanders. Rintor seemed destined for the same path, and indeed demonstrated considerable aptitude as a child. However, he manifested somewhat unexpected magical abilities upon puberty and was sent for schooling in the arcane arts. He showed little promise with higher magicks, but excelled at what was called ‘lightbending’, which, in short, allows him to bend the visible light spectrum so as to appear all-but invisible. Before long it appeared that he had reached a dead-end. While lightbending was a useful skill, people who trained at the academy of thaumaturgy were strictly forbidden from using the abilities learned there for violent ends.
When war erupted with a neighboring Elven kingdom, Rintor, then only seventeen, remained at the academy. He had flourished during his years there and grown into a thoughtful young man. However, after a year, the military situation turned for the worse, and he was personally pulled out of the academy upon orders of the king and placed into the army as a commissioned officer. Whatever his moral qualms, Rintor served as his father and grandfather had before him. If his swordsmanship was subpar for his station, he had little use for it during scouting missions. However, one can only last for so long in a war without resorting to violence. Forced to kill an enemy scout who would have revealed his army’s position, Rintor had shed his first blood. Surrounded by martial culture, his guilt was quickly assuaged.
From that point onward, he became the leader of an advance party that quickly became infamous for its lightning strikes, guerilla warfare, and sabotage. His lightbending skills made him almost absurdly effective, and before long Rintor was doing more than scouting. Assassinations came next, followed by long missions deep into enemy territory. His initial moral objections having become a thing of the past, and fed a steady diet of awards, honours, propaganda, and berserker mushrooms, Rintor became a gleeful killing machine. Gifted a pair of finely honed daggers by the king himself, the lightbender’s trail of bodies grew until he was feared, revered, and loathed across much of the continent. It became something of a legend that he would always appear out of nowhere a bare moment before striking the fatal blow, smiling like the devil himself.
His high (or low) point, came when he infiltrated the bedchambers of the Elven king and murdered him and his entire family in cold blood. This plunged the country into civil war and forced their interim leadership to sue for peace terms. Back home, Rintor was hailed as a hero, but with the war over and the accolades, drugs, and honours drying up, he felt increasingly hollow. He longed for purpose, which he attempted to find in hunting, bloodsport, and horse racing. All were dead ends. The academy had long since severed all ties with him and he was not allowed to return there. At some point, he disappeared from society altogether.
Nobody is entirely certain where he went for seven years, but when he reappeared, he was able to speak six new languages and he seemed to have found his peace. He sat outside of the academy in meditation, drinking only one bottle of water each day, for twenty-six days and nights until he was finally granted an audience with the provost. The price that he paid for readmission to the academy was considerable: all of his lands, honours, titles, and possessions save what he had carried with him, as well as a solemn vow of non-violence to be broken upon pain of a degenerative curse that will slowly and painfully cause him to waste away.
For the next three years, he ensconced himself within its hallowed halls, re-emerging at around the same time that the opening of the portal was announced. He appeared before the king, dressed in his simple black robes, and requested that he be the first of his nation to step through the portal. Given his status as a war hero, it was a request that could hardly be refused. Nobody knows what his motivation is except for Rintor himself, though one would assume that it has to do with the fascination of exploring a new land and finding redemption in the process.
Skills: Rintor can move with the utmost stealth and silence. Even elven ears struggle to detect him. He is almost ridiculously proficient with knives and daggers, though he has sworn never to use them for violence against another sentient being so long as he lives. He is able to draw maps and describe topography in considerable detail, though perhaps not as well as he might’ve in his youth. He is adept at sabotage, guerilla warfare, and has some tactical abilities, though these are qualities that he tries not to advertise. Rintor is a skilled horseman and reasonably proficient with a bow, though not what one would call 'naturally talented'. He can fast for an extended period of time and possesses basic survival skills. He has an innate ear for languages and has studied linguistics over the prvious handful of years, though he tends to speak with a thick accent.
Magic: Rintor is able to bend light so that he blends in flawlessly with his surroundings for extended periods of time when still and short bursts while moving. This effectively makes him able to turn invisible. However, the ability only extends to the visible light spectrum, and requires considerable concentration. He also struggles to blend into backdrops with especially intricate patterns or with many colours and a great deal of motion.
Equipment: Rintor has the clothes on his back, a flask of water in one satchel, some parchment and a quill in another, and some dried fruits, jerky, and nuts in another. He also has a pair of wickedly sharp daggers gifted to him by the king, but he wants nothing to do with them.
Other: Rintor is quiet and reserved – some would say aloof and subtly arrogant. He never shows his teeth anymore when smiling. He seems to be highly intelligent, though he will rarely correct people’s mistakes. He also appears to have little to no interest in women. Though he has tried hard to train it out of himself, he harbours a degree of suspicion towards elves and many near-human beings. Before Rintor went through the portal, the king gifted him his old daggers back and bade him take them through the portal. Rintor could not disobey with so many eyes on him, but he plans to drop them the moment that he steps through, and not just for his own sake. Given his past and his distinctive appearance, I'd assume that he would be known to many of the other characters, at least by name and reputation.
A CS for a WW2 Heist RPG called Band of Bastards. This thing died early, but this character acted as some formative inspiration for Penny from The Hourglass Order.
This is potential character one of two. Maybe we can see which one people like better once I've posted Yuri (the other one). Anyway, sorry if this is a bit long. She's partially inspired by Virginia Hall, who was a legendary badass.
Name (or known Aliases): Simona Ricci, aka. Gianna Verdi, Margarethe Vonlanthen, Hopper
Age: 23
Nationality: Italian
Affiliation: Italian Red Cross, works personally for Princess Marie Jose of Italy when she's not looking out for number one.
Role: Nurse, thief, infiltrator
Appearance: (shitty pic coming soon) A slim and petite (maybe 5'2") lightly-tanned Caucasian woman in her early mid-twenties, with shoulder-length straight black hair, blue eyes, and a nose that's just a bit too large, Simona skews to the 'pretty' side of average. She has dimples when she smiles (though it's usually more of a grin or a smirk), and a slight case of buckteeth. However, these things are usually not what people notice about her first. Instead, it's the pronounced limp that she walks with or - when she's not wearing her prosthetic - the fact that she's missing nearly her entire left leg. Due to the height of her injury, she moves better on crutches, though she'll often use her artificial leg to blend in more easily. Indeed, when she's just standing in a crowd, she tends to fade into it. Simona's not exactly open about the cause of the injury, mostly because it's a touchy enough subject that she risks getting emotional.
She usually wears her Red Cross uniform, which looks just a little bit like a nun's habit. Otherwise, she prefers knee-length dresses or skirts. She's unlikely to be seen in a revealing or provocative outfit except when she's drinking. Simona usually carries a large brown backpack stuffed full of first-aid equipment, clothes, a flask of Limoncello, a small satchel of tools that look like scalpels but are really for less legal uses, and sometimes her prosthetic leg. It really is amazing what she can fit in there. The leg itself is actually useful for holding things, as it’s hollow and she uses it to smuggle letters and contraband when necessary. That’s dangerous works, so sometimes, she also wears a leg holster with a small Beretta under her skirt/dress. She knows how use it, but that doesn't mean that she knows how to use it well. It’s more for her own sense of agency.
Personality: Simona is whatever she needs to be at the moment, whether that be a dutiful Catholic girl and committed nurse, a sophisticated and creative young woman from a wealthy family with contacts in the government, a physically and emotionally broken victim of war, or a loud, irreverent, warm, and somewhat uncultured rural Italian stereotype. Exactly which of these is closest to her genuine personality is up for debate, and the truth may be that she’s a bit of each.
The final one, however, is undoubtedly the face she wears easiest. Simona can talk. She loves spinning a good story, sharing a good laugh (sometimes about rather crude subjects), and engaging in frank, witty, and often quite incisive verbal fencing. She can appreciate a good pun, though she hasn’t mastered the art of making them herself (at least not in English), and will readily make self-deprecating jokes about her one-leggedness. Having witnessed a great deal of death and suffering, at some point she ‘got over the hump’ with regards to emotional attachment and simply learned to accept that people come and go and that they’re still worth investing in. She’s quick to get close with anyone who’ll allow it, and can be almost uncomfortably touchy-feely at times, though she will never make romantic advances, nor will she be stupid enough to trust them.
In general, Simona calls upon the powers of sympathy, stereotype, friendliness, and caricature to ensure that she’s seen as a complete non-threat by enemies and most friends alike. At best she’s plucky and admirable, at worst she’s either a vacuous and annoying chatterbox or a pity case.
Outside of the social aspects of her personality, Simona is intelligent, quick-thinking, and surprisingly competent (mainly due to sheer moxie) at a number of unrelated skills. Conversely, she can be impulsive, pushy, and Quixotic in terms of her personal quests and goals. She’s flighty but ambitious, and profoundly confident in herself on a basic level, though the loss of her leg has undermined this somewhat and occasionally leads to bouts of overcompensation. Regardless, Simona is used to succeeding and regularly getting her way. When she doesn’t, it can be ugly, both personally and professionally.
If she’s a bit materialistic, it’s not for the sake of having pretty things, but rather more practical reasons. She believes that money and resources can buy both safety and happiness to some extent and that accruing them will benefit her and her family. Despite this, the war has touched her profoundly, and Simona has come to genuinely care about those affected by it. She wants it to be over, and she would go so far as to die romantically and heroically to that end. What comes next is no concern of hers. She’s pointedly apolitical, though socially somewhat liberal, and she distrusts communists and political radicals of any stripe. Her primary loyalty is to her superior and patron, Princess Marie Jose of Italy, and it comes second only to herself and her family.
Service History: Simona joined the Italian Red Cross as soon as Italy entered the war and her brothers, Giacomo and Vittorio, were deployed to Southern France. She has never been one to simply sit idle, especially not when others are out doing what is expected of them. Sent to the African theatre, she served in field hospitals and POW camps for the better part of two years, often working in collaboration with British and American Red Cross units in the area. This is where she picked up most of her English, though she has some cousins who live overseas. Most of these places were chronically underfunded, so she had to find...creative ways to finance them at times. Whether it be pickpocketing the dead and dying, skimming supplies intended for military garrisons, or stealing officers’ bonuses right out of their safes, If her superiors disapproved of her methods, they never had the chance to voice that disapproval, because that would've involved catching her first.
She was working in a field hospital just outside of Addis Ababa when the forces of her own country strafed the entire compound (this is based upon a real historical incident). While attempting to evacuate the wounded, she was shot high up on the left thigh with a heavy-caliber round from one of the aircraft and she passed out almost instantly. Simona awoke minus a leg and fell almost immediately into a serious depression, partially due to the injury and partially due to the fact that her own country's forces had been responsible for the monstrous attack. The government, of course, vehemently denied such absurd rumours, and the incident was quickly buried, though not before it was brought to the attention of the head of the Italian Red Cross, Princess Marie Jose. When Simona was shipped back to Italy to convalesce, she was personally visited by the princess, who was something of a personal enemy of Mussolini and was looking for ways to bring the war to a close as soon as possible. Though it was officially supposed to be little more than a courtesy/publicity visit, the princess was eager to confirm the rumours that she had heard, and the two women ended up speaking for hours. Simona was deeply impressed by the patron of her organization, and it inspired a degree of personal loyalty that she previously hadn't felt towards anyone outside of her immediate family. They talked deeply and frankly, and she must've made an impression herself, because Princess Marie personally paid for her rehabilitation and prosthetic leg. Not to be outdone, the Italian government, under Mussolini, awarded her a medal for bravery and being wounded in service (despite the fact that she was wounded by them and was in the service of an international NGO).
Unwilling to simply return home and collect a disability pension, Simona returned to her duties, albeit in what were considered safer, more 'home front' areas. However, with the allied invasion of Italy beginning in 1943, the home front became a front in the true sense, and not only was her brother Giacomo one of the early casualties, but her upper-middle class family’s finances were devastated when the bombing campaign destroyed her father’s auto factory. As the situation worsened, Marie Jose stepped up her anti-fascist activities, and Simona, in secret correspondence with her superior, offered her services above and beyond the call of the Red Cross. When Mussolini's regime collapsed and he fled to the north of the country, Simona followed, albeit as something of a mole. She's been working tirelessly for the last six months in hospitals and POW camps in North-Central Italy, not only healing and feeding, but also working clandestinely with POWs and wounded fighters from various partisan groups to subvert the new puppet regime. A couple of days ago, a critically wounded republican fighter, remembering that another member of his cell had told him that "you can trust the one-legged woman", pressed a message into the palm of her hand with a mysterious address in Ulm, Bavaria.
Other: Simona's a lot stronger than she looks, able to lug around her backpack/prosthetic/crutch(es) without complaint and despite her small size. She’s a generous 5’2” and weighs all of 78 pounds. Combined with her natural flexibility, this allows her to squeeze herself into extremely small spaces if need be. She’s picked up a number of other useful skills over the course of her relatively short life: She can play the flute and violin reasonably well thanks to lessons during her childhood; She speaks passable Swiss German as a result of growing up in Northern Italy not far from the border; She’s also picked up some English and some Ethiopian from her postings during the early part of the war and learned to swim while undergoing rehabilitation. Picking locks and pockets were further skills learned while in theatre. She also became pretty good at table tennis from playing with wounded soldiers in the various hospitals that she served in, though she’s not as good as she thinks she is.
This tendency to overestimate herself extends to drinking. Her tolerance for alcohol is much lower than she’s convinced it is (this is partly due to her being smaller than she used to be), and she is liable to make a fool of herself when drunk. In the past, this didn’t extend to throwing herself at men, as she was saving herself for marriage, but after becoming an amputee, she decided that her marriage prospects were slim to none and that waiting for something that would never come was a daft idea. She’ll still never outright make the first move, but she’ll definitely respond. The truth is, Simona doesn’t really know how to act around a man who she finds legitimately attractive. In particular, she has a thing for Americans, American culture, and motorcycles. Culturally, she’s far from traditional, with a love for Big Band Jazz, fast cars, days at the beach, and late nights out dancing, though she’s a bit self-conscious about the latter two now. She’s eager to squeeze everything that she can out of life, she’ll make sport of anybody, and she can sometimes come across as a bit of a misandrist. She has a nickname, Legnoso (which means ‘Woody’ in Italian), for her prosthetic leg, and sometimes talks about it as if it’s a person with a will of its own.
Ultimately, as an Italian in late 1943, Simona knows that she can play either side if need be. As a nominal member of a neutral organization, she can gain access to people and places that might be impossible otherwise. As a small disabled woman, Simona knows that she won't readily be viewed as a combatant or any type of threat but also that it's not exactly easy for someone with such a visible difference to be inconspicuous if her cover is ever blown. She's never looked a man in the eyes and shot him, but she's certain that she could do it if the need ever arose.
Eh, collab wasn't really the right way of putting that. I mostly just wanted to discuss possibilities and toss some thoughts around (also wanted to bump this). Obviously, there's no point in making anything solid yet. It's like... I'm raring to go and have so many ideas and nowhere to share them yet. For me, a big chunk of the fun comes during the formative stage, when everything is new and open and we're all just talking in possibilities. Makes it that much sweeter when things come together.
@Force and Fury On this topic, any minerals or metals? What makes a good wand?
In general, the guiding philosophy behind this world is a sort of magical realism or quasi-scientific approach. I'm wary of having anything just be 'magical' without explanation. There are certain materials that make for good casting foci (wands, staffs, spellswords, etc). Generally, you want something that's light, not brittle, and doesn't burn or have a low melting point.
Are there any flora or fauna that are magical in nature?
Strictly speaking, no, though there are some animals that have rudimentary abilities in the gift: mostly birds and primates. There are also creatures that people would consider magical that, in truth, are not.
So commons outside of the castle pretty much means something rotten and crowded in Mudville?
Well, it means something very average. This school doesn't 'do' rotten. 'The Castle' is just student slang for a particular large dorm building within that red-roofed area marked 'commons dormitories' on the map.
The hours of Eshiran gave way to the hours of Dami and those, in turn, the hours of Ipte. Students slept - most of them, anyways. Zenos, Arch-Zenos, and world leaders slept, yet Ersand'Enise was alive at night, subtly alive in ways that its founders had never anticipated. Owls hunted in the trees of the arboretum, geese honked and flapped on Hedda's Lake, and the shingled spires of the city's great buildings played host to all manner of crows and ravens, who looked down upon the humans with the instinct and disinterest of animals.
For the second night in a row, the highest light in the Forked Tower blazed into the blackness and mist clung to the walls and houses. Sailors stumbled out of the taverns, up and down the gangplanks of ships. The great, groaning light pulsed across the sea, with its churning waves and jagged reefs and cold, dark waters. In the shadowed alleys and filthy hovels of Mudville, money changed hands, hooded figures met and conspired, and a bedraggled-looking ex-Zeno attempted to sell potions and sealed items of dubious quality to those who passed his humble shop. Eventually, however, even Mudville fell into an uneasy semi-silence. Flags hung limp on their posts. Rats scampered through the trash. Four moons shone like mismatched eyes in the gloom.
But then came the sun, and banished these visions of the night. It started as a shy glow and became inevitable. Sharp shadows yawned and stretched across the plazas and rooftops. People did the same, within their houses and bedrooms. Ersand'Enise awoke, though its sleep had always been light and fitful.
The fishermen were always first on the streets. There were servants, sweepers, and vendors. Today, however, they were joined by flocks of Zenos. The learned mages fluttered out from their homes, papers and scrolls in hand, on a yearly pilgrimage to Balthazar Hall to submit their students' course selections.
The students rose early as well. Some had slept better than the others, but it was natural for there to be a sort of anticipation in the air. They dressed, they ate, and some even bathed. They said their goodbyes, for some would likely not see each other again until their next weekend at the Zeno's.
Then, the young scholars headed off to Balthazar Hall, where all had been advised to pick up their schedules. So they gathered in those long lines, which - Thank Dami - at least moved fairy quickly. It was fertile soil for gossip, bravado, flirtation, and other, more innocent forms of conversation, but especially the first. It seemed as if at least some of their number had encountered something... interesting in the morning. However, when students finally received their schedules and the keys to their dormitory rooms, they were hustled off to class for all manner of orientations just the same. There, the youths found faces both new and familiar.
There, they found that they all shared a pair of classes and they either learned or did not learn. Zander Mozaru tested them immediately and confidentially. He wanted to see where they were at but had no patience for any trying to humiliate their peers. Alcaster Serra played a word game with the youths to put them at ease and asked them at the start of class to choose an adjective in their native tongues to describe themselves and in Avincian at the end of class. He also stroked his beard a great deal. He seemed greatly fond of that or else it was a nervous habit. In the afternoon, they met their magic specialty instructors. Sectoxomactex boasted of his many exploits and demonstrated a few high level spells before encouraging his students to show him what they could do. Randan Kedd explained how magic was a science and how any of them could master it so long as they could read and put in a solid effort. He dismissed them early since it was their first day. Luria Colloy gave them readings and lightning rods. Born-on-Solstice held her class outdoors, under the 'Mother Sun' and did wellness activities. Jurgen Mendenhoffer drilled them like they were soldiers but then let them go early, while Alois Lascand droned on about their solemn duty as Binders. Tannifer Marbrand had them draw nearly to capacity and blow things up on their first day, and there was a dark kind of glee in her eyes as they did so. Some students, however, were fortunate enough not to be taught by mere Zenos, but by one of the eight Arch-Zenos of the Academy. Ardredelle Latvar guided her students through rudimentary chemistry and, by the end of class, had each other able to induce a feeling of hunger within a preying mantis. Giacomo Giarrone had each of them share why they'd wanted to be binders, despite the school's sometimes unsavoury reputation. He gave them cookies and told them that there would be plenty of hard work ahead and that they should see to their sleep and health for the time being. So that was what they did. Once their orientations were over, the students ate, they chatted, they explored, skipped, and sauntered through the academy grounds and the city.
The chaos of this first real day of academics was a longstanding tradition, and perhaps practice for the (in)famous Trials of Ersand'Enise, which would be kicking off in less than two weeks, on Verdimas, the Day of Skills. In this spirit, they endeavoured to read maps, ask questions and figure out where they would be staying and who they would be staying with. They retrieved their bags from their Master Zenos' homes, the basement storage rooms of Balthazar Hall, or the private arrangements that they had made. The dormitories were divided by class: noble, merchant, and everyone else. That this arrangement served to separate some friend groups spoke well of the world that these young people were building, at least from a certain perspective. Others, however, found themselves very near to their friends or even sharing rooms. It was an exciting time indeed and, were the elaborate preparations for the Conclave of the Five Thrones that they had passed in Arc-en-Ciel Hall any indication, tomorrow's events would only add to it.
Resources
Night is quiet and spooky in the city and a bit more lively in Mudville, where shifty things are going on, including a former Zeno selling Binding(?) items.
The Zenos wake up very early to bring your selections to Balthazar Hall and your course timetables are created.
Students socialize in line and receive timetables, maps, and keys to their dorms.
Class orientations take place. Compare schedules to see who you're with! Coordinate!
Class ends, people pick up their belongings, and move into their dorms.
You may cover as much or as little of the day as you wish, focusing on what you think is most interesting.
You will be able to choose your neighbours or roommates (within the class divisions, of course). I'm giving you that responsibility.
This is a good opportunity to coordinate with each other, introduce any player NPCs you may have thought of, or use some of the NPCs outlined in the spreadsheet under 'Apprentice Groups'.
Hours, Minutes, and Seconds
Constantia, Severa, and Tarlon enjoy a standardized method of telling the time and, aided by the popularity of Kerreman clockwork, this has spread to Rettan and parts of Callanast over the past century, also becoming commonplace there. In this conception of time, there are 25 hours in a day divided into five sections.
HI - The five Hours of Ipte (HI) occupy the latest and most remote part of the night, when most people are in the embrace of sleep and the few who aren't are usually... up to things. Example: 2:15 HI
HS - The five hours of Shune (HS) occupy the period from first light into later morning, when most people awaken, start to think, and become productive. Example: 3:30 HS
HO - The five hours of Oraff (HO) occupy the period from late morning through the early afternoon, when life is at its busiest, most flourishing, and most productive. Example: 5:48 HO
HE - The five hours of Eshiran (HE) occupy the period from later afternoon until dusk, when the daylight dies and people's main activities conclude along with it. Example: 1:07 HE
HD - The five Hours of Dami (HD) occupy the period from just after sunset until the later hours of the night, when people go to sleep, reflecting on their day and what comes tomorrow. Example: 2:36 HD
There are fifty seconds to a minute, but each of these is about 1.4 Earth seconds. Hours are fifty minutes long and, as mentioned above, each section of the day has five. These begin at 1:00 and go up to 5:49. Then, it'll be 1:00 in the next section.
Oh gee! An age and a gender and interests and things. Yeah, I have those. Ain't no way I'm about to trigger an existential crisis by typing them all out, though. You can find out what a nerd I am on discord, okay?
Stay awesome, people.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Oh gee! An age and a gender and interests and things. Yeah, I have those. Ain't no way I'm about to trigger an existential crisis by typing them all out, though. You can find out what a nerd I am on discord, okay?<br><br>Stay awesome, people.</div>
Fallenreaper
Emeth
BlackRoseSiren
Ti
Not a Sayan
Echotech71
FourtyTwo
