Gentlemanvaultboy

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure - Funky Fistfight Freezers

It's always werided me out when Stands went around having opinions.

Like, what happens in a mans life that produces something like Cheap Trick?

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure - Funky Fistfight Freezers

Stands don't have wants. They're not a separate entity, they're more like an arm.

*edit* Well that's not technically true I guess. Dragons Dream was fairly independent. Every Stand rule has at least one『Exception』.

The Young Devils [Teenage Super Villains roleplay]

Phone Freak

Name: Allison Bell (Phone Freak II)
Age: 16
Gender: Female

Appearance: Short, pale, and slightly pudgy with short brown hair and green eyes. The type of girl people talk about when they say "but she has a great personality." A boring, average looking girl that probably would not be noticed.

When forced to go out supervillaining she wears a long, dark blue coat covered in pockets, black gloves covered in metal plates on the outside and very thing material on the inside, and a metal helmet. The helmet covers her entire head and face and has a blue screen going right down the middle that glows. The effect is very Daft Punk. Intentionally so.

Personality: Irate, high-strung, driven, dutiful, paranoid

Powers/skills: Allison is a Technomancer, a wizard who uses technology as a medium through which to cast spells. Like all technomancers she can commune with technology to try and get it to do what she wants through a combination of appeasement and coercion, though she can't do so to things like engines because she "doesn't speak that dialect." She can commune with most things that "have wires" but is specialized in phones and phone lines.

A few notable things she can do with a phone line are:

1). The most basic thing is the ability to scramble where your call came from, send your call bouncing all over the network until it becomes impossible to trace where it originated from.

2). Listen in to it to try and peel out information. When you say something into a phone it doesn't disappear when it comes out the other end, it stays in there. This doesn't even just apply to things people say into the phone either. Since phone lines were built to "carry information" even things people say near them can get sucked up in there and carried around the lines. You can even find where someone is so long as they're speaking near a live line. You have to know what you're looking for, though, otherwise you're just listening to random snippets and the white noise that everything left in the line eventually becomes.

3). Travel through them or trap people inside of them. Moving like this you can get anywhere the line connects in record time, but it's extremely dangerous and knowing your exact route is a must. She hates doing it. You could get stuck in a mire of white noise, get creamed by a call coming down the line, or eaten by a monster. Speaking of that last one...

4). Telefangs. Phone demons. Emotion left in the line that coalesced into a monster that lives there. Comes in positive and negative varieties. They try to piggyback out of the lines on similar emotions and into human bodies. If you've ever felt particularly good or terrible after a phone call that was one of them getting into you. They're harmless like that, but Allison can draw them out of the lines and bind them to her will. The monsters come in as many varieties as there are emotions, though the general rule is that the positive ones help and the negative ones hurt. Can only exist for long periods of time in the real word when Allison is on hand and puts forth effort to maintain them, otherwise they dissolve into noise and vanish within a few hours.

There are other applications of phone magic, but these three things are what she's most skilled in. She is, however, a ritual caster. She can't just quickfire these spells willy nilly. It also goes without saying that she needs a phone line to be able to do any of these things.

Equipment: Like most wizards she has a workshop hidden in the middle of nowhere where she works to perfect her craft. It's underground, filled with technical manuals, arcane grimoirs, parts, junk, and tools. Anything she needs to build and maintain her equipment. It's also where she lives.

Her helmet (includes a voice changer).
Her gloves (Actually powerful shock gloves she can turn on with a command.)

Her Spellphone. A simple blue flip-phone with the number replaced with arcane symbols. After tireless effort she's managed to turn it into a portable magic tome capable of casting simple spells with a few dials. It includes a simple magic blast, a weak defensive shield capable of stopping anything up to a hale of small arms fire, and a longsword mode for close up offence. It also includes storage space for a single Telefang. It's held back the abysmal hour long battery life and being prohibitively expensive to produce. It had to be assembled basically from scratch, being carefully enchanted all the while. It is bleeding edge technonmacy, but a work in progress.

Short Bio: Allison has most of her entire life on the run with her father, the original Phone Freak Archibald Bell, helping him commit crimes in order to fund their research. She never knew her mother or a normal childhood. As far as she knows she's been a supervillain for about as long as she could walk, taking a supporting role in robberies, scams, magical duels, and every sort of mercenary work you could imagine. Her father always treated her more as a student than a daughter, and as she got older treated her as a peer and colleague. All the money they won was channeled into the research, always striving toward that next big step.

One day, Archibald left her behind. She was confused, until the power went off later that night. She got the news later that he'd set off to steal something from the hero Cyber Shaman, and the resulting duel scrambled communication throughout mainland North America for about four months. No one ever really learned what happened during that fight, Cyber Shaman certainly didn't brag about it, but Archibald never came back. He'd left her, alone, to continue the work. She'd inherited his research, his workshop, and his contacts. She was 12 years old.

She'd been handling it pretty well by herself for the past four years, stealing what she needed, doing various jobs to fund her way of life, working on how to do with wireless signals what Archibald had taught her to do with landlines, and most importantly: keeping anonymous. Allison Bell was a ghost. The people who contacted her only knew Phone Freak. She'd completely divorced her villain persona from her actual person. It was all going swimmingly until the day she got that call.

On her Spellphone.

The one she'd just recently built.

The one that didn't even have a listed number.

And the voice on the other end used her name...

The Young Devils [Teenage Super Villains roleplay]

<Snipped quote by Stekkmen>

accepted.

<Snipped quote by Gentlemanvaultboy>

accepted, but just know that she won't be able to trace or figure out any information about the Presence.

@Weird Tales

I understood that.

The Young Devils [Teenage Super Villains roleplay]

Phone Freak

Name: Allison Bell (Phone Freak II)
Age: 16
Gender: Female

Appearance: Short, pale, and slightly pudgy with short brown hair and green eyes. The type of girl people talk about when they say "but she has a great personality." A boring, average looking girl that probably would not be noticed.

When forced to go out supervillaining she wears a long, dark blue coat covered in pockets, black gloves covered in metal plates on the outside and very thing material on the inside, and a metal helmet. The helmet covers her entire head and face and has a blue screen going right down the middle that glows. The effect is very Daft Punk. Intentionally so.

Personality: Irate, high-strung, driven, dutiful, paranoid

Powers/skills: Allison is a Technomancer, a wizard who uses technology as a medium through which to cast spells. Like all technomancers she can commune with technology to try and get it to do what she wants through a combination of appeasement and coercion, though she can't do so to things like engines because she "doesn't speak that dialect." She can commune with most things that "have wires" but is specialized in phones and phone lines.

A few notable things she can do with a phone line are:

1). The most basic thing is the ability to scramble where your call came from, send your call bouncing all over the network until it becomes impossible to trace where it originated from.

2). Listen in to it to try and peel out information. When you say something into a phone it doesn't disappear when it comes out the other end, it stays in there. This doesn't even just apply to things people say into the phone either. Since phone lines were built to "carry information" even things people say near them can get sucked up in there and carried around the lines. You can even find where someone is so long as they're speaking near a live line. You have to know what you're looking for, though, otherwise you're just listening to random snippets and the white noise that everything left in the line eventually becomes.

3). Travel through them or trap people inside of them. Moving like this you can get anywhere the line connects in record time, but it's extremely dangerous and knowing your exact route is a must. She hates doing it. You could get stuck in a mire of white noise, get creamed by a call coming down the line, or eaten by a monster. Speaking of that last one...

4). Telefangs. Phone demons. Emotion left in the line that coalesced into a monster that lives there. Comes in positive and negative varieties. They try to piggyback out of the lines on similar emotions and into human bodies. If you've ever felt particularly good or terrible after a phone call that was one of them getting into you. They're harmless like that, but Allison can draw them out of the lines and bind them to her will. The monsters come in as many varieties as there are emotions, though the general rule is that the positive ones help and the negative ones hurt. Can only exist for long periods of time in the real word when Allison is on hand and puts forth effort to maintain them, otherwise they dissolve into noise and vanish within a few hours.

There are other applications of phone magic, but these three things are what she's most skilled in. She is, however, a ritual caster. She can't just quickfire these spells willy nilly. It also goes without saying that she needs a phone line to be able to do any of these things.

Equipment: Like most wizards she has a workshop hidden in the middle of nowhere where she works to perfect her craft. It's underground, filled with technical manuals, arcane grimoirs, parts, junk, and tools. Anything she needs to build and maintain her equipment. It's also where she lives.

Her helmet (includes a voice changer).
Her gloves (Actually powerful shock gloves she can turn on with a command.)

Her Spellphone. A simple blue flip-phone with the number replaced with arcane symbols. After tireless effort she's managed to turn it into a portable magic tome capable of casting simple spells with a few dials. It includes a simple magic blast, a weak defensive shield capable of stopping anything up to a hale of small arms fire, and a longsword mode for close up offence. It also includes storage space for a single Telefang. It's held back the abysmal hour long battery life and being prohibitively expensive to produce. It had to be assembled basically from scratch, being carefully enchanted all the while. It is bleeding edge technonmacy, but a work in progress.

Short Bio: Allison has most of her entire life on the run with her father, the original Phone Freak Archibald Bell, helping him commit crimes in order to fund their research. She never knew her mother or a normal childhood. As far as she knows she's been a supervillain for about as long as she could walk, taking a supporting role in robberies, scams, magical duels, and every sort of mercenary work you could imagine. Her father always treated her more as a student than a daughter, and as she got older treated her as a peer and colleague. All the money they won was channeled into the research, always striving toward that next big step.

One day, Archibald left her behind. She was confused, until the power went off later that night. She got the news later that he'd set off to steal something from the hero Cyber Shaman, and the resulting duel scrambled communication throughout mainland North America for about four months. No one ever really learned what happened during that fight, Cyber Shaman certainly didn't brag about it, but Archibald never came back. He'd left her, alone, to continue the work. She'd inherited his research, his workshop, and his contacts. She was 12 years old.

She'd been handling it pretty well by herself for the past four years, stealing what she needed, doing various jobs to fund her way of life, working on how to do with wireless signals what Archibald had taught her to do with landlines, and most importantly: keeping anonymous. Allison Bell was a ghost. The people who contacted her only knew Phone Freak. She'd completely divorced her villain persona from her actual person. It was all going swimmingly until the day she got that call.

On her Spellphone.

The one she'd just recently built.

The one that didn't even have a listed number.

And the voice on the other end used her name...

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure - Funky Fistfight Freezers

Name: Rodger Rainer
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Appearance: A tall, deceptively muscular white man with a gaunt face, a goatee and mustache, and a head completely shaved except for a little swirl of hair right on top that sort of looks like a flower bud. He wears a loose fitting floral patterned shirt with a flared collar that he always keeps tucked into a pair of old, beaten up bluejeans. His belt buckle is big, gold plated, and has the word LOVE printed on it with the O replaced with a flower, he has a peace sign necklace around his neck, and he wears cowboy boots.

Backstory: Growing up with a poor single mother and no siblings, Rodger was always a lonely but good mannered child. He occupied his time in the rough neighborhood he lived in by tending to a small island of greenery in the middle of his street, just a small patch with a few trees separated from the road by concrete dividers, that the city had installed in a attempt to beautify the neighborhood a little bit and then promptly abandoned and turned into a communal waste dump for the people of the neighborhood. He would mow the grass, water the trees, and pick up any trash he was strong enough to haul away. Anything too large for him to pick up wholesale, such a washing machine of a busted television, he would take apart using any tool he could scrounge up and haul it away piecemeal. This habit continued even when he was older and stronger, and soon his room was filled with the pieces of things he'd taken apart and put back together with parts taken from other broken things he'd found. He and his mother would take the thing he repaired to a local pawn shop, and with the money he bought better tools, fertilizers, and flowers to plant in his little island of trash and greenery. To his mind the two were intertwined now, the plants to grow and the trash to tinker with being equal and inseparable in his heart. In the end those around him that had mocked his endeavors in the beginning had stopped throwing out their things so as not to ruin what was now known around town as the boys garden, and people began to come to his home personally to see if he could repair something they had broken or simply give him something that they were going to throw away.

Years past, and Rodger eventually left home to attend college in the nearby city of Angel Springs to get his engineering degree. However, while he was away his mother fell deathly ill. Racing home, he quit school and found work to pay for her hospital bills. Despite this, the disease eventually claimed her life. Returning to Angel Springs but never finding to motivation to continue his education he found a small home in one of the seedier parts of town that reminded him of his youth and started working with his hands again. Since then he has sustained himself with manual labor jobs, mostly landscaping and gardening work, as well as running a small, bizarre "Repair Shop" out of his home that is known only to the inhabitants of the surrounding neighborhoods.

Likes: Tranquility, work, plants, cars, community, and continuous noises like the rotation of a fan or the purr of an engine.

Dislikes: Disorder, wastefulness, littering

Powers:

Stand: Vitalogy (Pearl Jam album)

Destructive Power: A

Speed: B

Range: D

Durability: B

Precision: D

Development Potential: D

Vitalogy appears as a large, tribal style punchghost with a grass skirt, a stone tiki mask, and arms twice the length of its body that bend like whips and look like the bodies of anacondas. Vitalogy can plant seeds inside things that are broken or damaged, which then quickly grow to replace any damaged components of it and take over their functions. For example, planting the seed inside of an old broken down car would cause all the damaged parts to be patched with plant matter and the car would work as normal. Things repaired by Vitalogy must be cared for as plants are. Left for a while near soil the plant matter will extend roots into the earth in search of nutrients, and Vitalogy can cause this effect to violently trigger whenever it is nearby. They must also be given sufficient sunlight and water. If not cared for in this way the plant matter will wither and die as normal. The properties of the plant matter that grows depends upon the seed Vitalogy plants.

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure - Funky Fistfight Freezers

What Stand awakening rules are we working under? Is there an arrow knocking about? Was this place built in the Devils Palm? Is Jesus tunneling around, biting people on the ankles?
-----
Name: Rodger Rainer
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Appearance: A tall, deceptively muscular white man with a gaunt face, a goatee and mustache, and a head completely shaved except for a little swirl of hair right on top that sort of looks like a flower bud. He wears a loose fitting floral patterned shirt with a flared collar that he always keeps tucked into a pair of old, beaten up bluejeans. His belt buckle is big, gold plated, and has the word LOVE printed on it with the O replaced with a flower, he has a peace sign necklace around his neck, and he wears cowboy boots.

Backstory: Growing up with a poor single mother and no siblings, Rodger was always a lonely but good mannered child. He occupied his time in the rough neighborhood he lived in by tending to a small island of greenery in the middle of his street, just a small patch with a few trees separated from the road by concrete dividers, that the city had installed in a attempt to beautify the neighborhood a little bit and then promptly abandoned and turned into a communal waste dump for the people of the neighborhood. He would mow the grass, water the trees, and pick up any trash he was strong enough to haul away. Anything too large for him to pick up wholesale, such a washing machine of a busted television, he would take apart using any tool he could scrounge up and haul it away piecemeal. This habit continued even when he was older and stronger, and soon his room was filled with the pieces of things he'd taken apart and put back together with parts taken from other broken things he'd found. He and his mother would take the thing he repaired to a local pawn shop, and with the money he bought better, fertilizers, and flowers to plant in his little island of trash and greenery, which he now thought of as equally important. In the end those around him that had mocked his endeavors in the beginning had stopped throwing out their things so as not to ruin what was now known around town as the boys garden, and people began to come to his home personally to see if he could repair something they had broken or simply give him something that they were going to throw away.

Years past, and Rodger eventually left home to attend college in the nearby city of Angel Springs to get his engineering degree. However, while he was away his mother fell deathly ill. Racing home, he quit school and found work to pay for her hospital bills. Despite this, the disease eventually claimed her life. Returning to Angel Springs but never finding to motivation to continue his education he found a small home in one of the seedier parts of town that reminded him of his youth and started working with his hands again. Since then he has sustained himself with manual labor jobs, mostly landscaping and gardening work, as well as running a small, bizarre "Repair Shop" out of his home that is known only to the inhabitants of the surrounding neighborhoods.

Likes: Tranquility, work, plants, cars, community, and continuous noises like the rotation of a fan or the purr of an engine.

Dislikes: Disorder, wastefulness, littering

Powers:

Stand: Vitalogy (Pearl Jam album)

Destructive Power: A

Speed: B

Range: D

Durability: B

Precision: D

Development Potential: D

Vitalogy appears as a large, tribal style punchghost with a grass skirt, a stone tiki mask, and arms twice the length of its body that bend like whips and look like the bodies of anacondas. Vitalogy can plant seeds inside things that are broken or damaged, which then quickly grow to replace any damaged components of it and take over their functions. For example, planting the seed inside of an old broken down car would cause all the damaged parts to be patched with plant matter and the car would work as normal. Things repaired by Vitalogy must be cared for as plants are. Left for a while near soil the plant matter will extend roots into the earth in search of nutrients, and Vitalogy can cause this effect to violently trigger whenever it is nearby. They must also be given sufficient sunlight and water. If not cared for in this way the plant matter will wither and die as normal. The properties of the plant matter that grows depends upon the seed Vitalogy plants.

BAR FIGHT - WITNESS ME

THE WOODEN CREATURE LET OUT A FRUSTRATED NEIGH AS BULLETS PUNCHED THROUGH HIS FACE, EASILY EXITING OUT THE BACK OF HIS HEAD. AS THE WOOD FELL AWAY FROM THE FRACTURED CRATER WHERE HIS METICULOUSLY CARVED FACE USED TO BE IT REVELED WHAT LOOKED LIKE A LITTLE CHAMBER INSIDE HIS HEAD. IN THE SHADOWS TINY FIGURES HASTILY MOVED TO AND FRO, TINY BONFIRES WERE LIT, AND IN THE NEW LIGHT TINY GREEK SOLDIERS STEPPED FORWARD INTO THE OPENING AND AS A SINGLE UNIT RAISED THEIR BOWS. TINY FLAMING ARROWS FLEW FROM THE HOLE LIKE CUT-RATE KNOCK OFF HEAT VISION, IN SUCH VOLUME THAT THEY WOULD HAVE BLOTTED OUT THE SUN WERE THEY NOT FUN SIZED.

THEY PEPPERED THE BULL THAT HAD KNOCKED DEADPOOL DOWN. FORTUNATELY IT WAS A NORMAL TYPE. THUS THE ATTACK WASN'T SUPER EFFECTIVE, MERELY HIDEOUSLY PAINFUL. THE GREEKS STUMBLED AS THE GOLEM HORSE STRODE FORWARD AND TOOK THE BULL BY THE HORNS, PLACING THE CREATURE IN A HEADLOCK. THE MEN INSIDE HIM BRACED FOR IMPACT AS THE GOLEM HORSE PERFORMED A SICK DDT, SLAMMING THE BEASTS HORNS INTO DEADPOOL.

BAR FIGHT - WITNESS ME

A GIANT WOODEN HAND REACHED OUT AND GRABBED THE UNICORNS HORN, STOPPING ITS CHARGE COLD. THE HAND BELONGED TO SOME GIANT WEIRD ASS WOODEN STATUE MOTHERFUCKER WITH THE HEAD OF A NOBLE STALLION. THOUGH ITS FACE BORE NO EXPRESSION YOU COULD FEEL THE JEALOUSY POURING FROM ITS EVERY ORIFICE, IF IT HAD ORIFICES. REALLY, THIS GUY WAS PRETTY UNREADABLE. WITH A FURIOUS WHINNY THAT SEEMED TO COME FROM WITHIN HIS BODY THE GOLEM HORSE RIPPED THE HORN FROM THE UNICORNS HEAD, SPRAYING EVERYONE AROUND HIM WITH RAINBOW BLOOD. HE TOOK THE HORN AND, WITH ALL THE STRENGTH HE COULD MUSTER, SHOVED IT INTO THE MIDDLE OF HIS FOREHEAD.

HE TOOK A MOMENT TO BASK IN THE GLOW OF IT ALL. HE RAISED HIS FISTS UP TO THE SKY, AS IF TO CHALLENGE APHRODITE HERSELF WITH JUST HOW FUCKING BEAUTIFUL HE WAS. THEN HE HEADBUTTED DEADPOOL OFF THE SCREAMING UNICORN.

|| The Endless Halls | A Dark Fantasy World | Accepting Characters||

Gish shared the glance with Rose. This wasn't exactly what she had expected either. She'd thought the place would be empty. She was not thinking there would be a kindly old grandma in there. A kindly old grandma that was so kindly old grandma that it made her wonder whether or not this was some kind of trick.

On the other hand the inside of the place smelled soooooooo good, and no one had ever invited her to eat before. She was dragged passed William by her own nose and stepped over the threshold into the small house. Then she gasped and leaped back in alarm, back outside. She fidgeted there for a moment, then stomped both her feet and wiped them on the grass. She looked down at them, nodded to herself, then stepped back inside.

"I'm sorry." She said to the old lady. "I don't get invited in much so I don't know how to...I mean I forget..." She struggled, then turned back to the group. "Remember to wipe your feet." She said. This was something new and exciting and she'd almost ruined it for everyone. When you entered someone else's home you wiped your feet, she'd seen it hundreds of times. It was small rituals like that that helped separate people from creatures. She thought about how the rest of it went, before turning back to the old lady and bowing slightly. "Thank you for inviting us into your home Miss Mimi my name is Gish it is a pleasure to meet you you have a lovely home."