Just some scrub nerd who happens to RP on this site. While I tend to gravitate more towards building worlds and GMing and all that, I join RPs from time to time as well. I tend to stay in the casual section of the Guild (though I am open to trying other things) and my preferences tend to lean towards slice-of-life RPs and superhero RPs, along with the occasional fandom RP, depending. I enjoy trying new things, though, and I'm willing to hop onboard any genre if I find it appealing.
I consider myself fairly lax and friendly, so if you wanna chat, my PMs are always open.
Where I Am
Currently Running 《H.E.R.O.》 Fast-paced, fun, vibrant, quasi-anime superhero RP about an organization that employs superpowered people to defend the fictional city of Castleburg, USA. Currently Accepting! PM me for details if you want to join.
Currently Participating n/a. Maybe it'll change? ;)
Honors
"He's a two-faced bastard of a GM."
"He's American. Enough said"
"He abuses us with lenny faces"
Comment: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
"He hates the gays"
"Wait, since you're a hitman, can't you just scan the bar code on the back of your head and just bring your post back?"
"I have never met a more horrible, selfish, ungrateful human than Hitman. I wish I didn't have to live inside his body 24/7 for the rest of my pathetic, meaningless existence."
Dakota grinned with zeal as Sister Lark exited the house and approached them. As she explained that the whole thingamajig was about to begin, Dakota hopped over behind Calypso, snagging a robe and shrugging it on. Sure, it wasn't exactly Dakota would wear to parties or anything, but it looked kind of cool. As Dakota pulled the robe tightly on, she looked back to Sister Lark, who explained that they couldn't bring any magical items or familiars with them into the wellspring. "Oh! That's fine. I don't really keep any charms on me, normally...wait, nooo, I can't leave Astro here! Please, can I bring him? I promise he'll be well-behaved..." After realizing her pleas were not going to allow her to gain any ground, Dakota relented and plucked Astro from her shoulder, resting him with everybody else's stuff. "You stay here, OK? Guard everybody's stuff, I guess. Don't come after me!" she commanded, before turning back to look at the two new (old) arrivals and skipping after them with glee. It was time to become a witch!
Meanwhile, Jean-Luc had sort of mingled in with the herd, having stepped onto the end of the line before shrugging on a robe. He scoffed at its size quietly but said nothing audible to anybody, certainly not the elders. Despite his disappointment at the Coven's choice of fashion, he didn't have the energy nor the nerve to complain at this time. The robes might've had some significance that he didn't know about, anyway, so best not to question it. Without another word from him, he turned towards the moving group and followed them.
The group marched down into a mysterious forest, which seemed to be protected by an illusion that Lark quickly dispelled. Dakota gasped as they approached the wellspring, quite audibly, too. It was...beautiful. Gorgeous. Phenomenal. Breath-taking. Even Jean-Luc's normally taught details bloomed into a very thin smile as they entered the area. Feeling a hint of magic in the air, Dakota gazed around, paying minimal attention to Sister Deborah's words. She was still kind of pissed that the elder did not allow familiars into the wellspring, to be frank, and so Dakota was trying her own form of stubborn resistance, likely to no effect. As the rest of the group began to kneel on the red pillows, Dakota caught the drift and quickly hopped onto hers. The pillow made a kind of wheezing noise as Dakota's weight pressed it into the forest ground. Dakota noticed a vial of mysterious herbs along with a knife next to her station, and her instant thought was that Sister Deborah was forcing the witchlings into a deathmatch for the wellspring's power. As Dakota began to think about how she would stab Summer, the elder witch thankfully explained what was going to happen- they were going to use their blood to bond with the wellspring. "Oh no..." she muttered as Calypso dared to speak up about the ritual. Dakota had known that Calypso had a major problem with the sight of blood, but had forgotten about that until now, and it seemed she was in a real panic. As Dakota looked over at her friend in concern, Jean-Luc audibly sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Ki kaka sa..." he mumbled, looking back at the wellspring and the knife before picking it up.
As Dakota was looking at the dagger with apprehension and wondering if she really had to do this, Jean-Luc went about it with what can only be described as zeal. Blade in hand, he swiftly ran his knife over his wrist like he was an assassin cutting his victim's throat As blood poured from the wound, Jean-Luc allowed a few drops to fall into the wellspring before adding some to the mixture and downing it like a shot. Instantly, he loudly groaned as he felt the magic overcome him. His blood, much of which had fallen onto the ground, began to move like a serpent, forming a circle around Jean-Luc as he writhed in pain, moving like a ragdoll in the wind. It was over as soon as it came, almost, with Jean-Luc panting momentarily before realizing that a) he was face-first in the ground and b) he was still bleeding. Jean-Luc ran his hand over his the wound, the color returning from bloody red to smooth ebony almost instantly as Jean-Luc healed himself. His eyes returned to Calypso, who was currently puking all over herself, and he scoffed, one clearly not out of laughter, but out of embarrassment. "That is sad," he declared boldly and with a shake of his head. "One of the most important days of your life, and you vomit on yourself." He shook his head again before looking down at his hands. He was a witch.
Dakota, meanwhile, had taken a bit more time before she had finally allowed herself to run the dagger (very apprehensively) over her wrist, the blood spilling out quickly and suddenly, shocking the girl. "Ah, fucking SHIT!" she cursed very loudly as blood oozed from her cut, quickly dunking her whole hand in the wellspring ("so much for 'some blood'") before pulling it out and allowing the blood to drip into the mixture. She looked at the mixture of herbs, wellspring juice, and her blood before remembering that she was, in fact, bleeding out, so she quickly gulped it down Instantly, she felt a strange sensation, and it fucking hurt. Dakota's body shivered in pain as the magic overcame her, the wind rustling around her, before after about a half a minute, before it finally subsided. Dakota put one hand over her wound instantly and began to heal it. It wasn't a good job on her part, and would definitely leave a scar, but that was the price of magic she supposed.
Dakota laughed as Summer passed out before running over to Calypso, putting her arms around the puking girl (though being careful to avoid the trajectory of the puke itself). "You're gonna be fine, OK? Let me heal you," she said comfortingly, swiftly grabbing Calypso's forearm and healing it. There was still blood everywhere and a nasty-looking scar, but the bleeding had subsided. "There! Feeling better?"
Meanwhile, back at the coven house, Astro had grown bored. Looking around playfully, he found a nice toy- Summer's bracelet. He eagerly took it into his mouth and bit down. Yummy.
The man bounced off of Hugo's indestructible body like a rubber ball off a concrete wall, and Powers' follow-up slap sent the speedster directly to the ground. There, Powers stood there, towering over the fallen individual, who Powers was already beginning to suspect was not a villain. He just didn't seem...villainous. Either this mysterious person was an incredible actor that used sympathy to catch his victims off-guard, he was the worst assassin in the history of assassins, or he was somebody else. As he began to speak, the last option began to seem more and more true.
"I'm Chad Connors, Pizza Delivery Man at Porter's Pizza. I want to be a super cool badass Hero, a-and I thought you came to H.E.R.O to be a Hero cause it sounds cooler than I.C.O.S.A. P-p-please don't put me into Coldwater, The C-chainsaw Charlatan will kill me for throwing him in prison!"
Powers sighed, shaking his head. He might've actually preferred if this Chad fellow was actually an assassin and not a wannabe hero. At the very least it would've made for a more interesting scene. However, Powers was rarely one to say 'no' to new hero recruits. While his powers were clearly not under full control, and his entrance was the textbook definition of "lame," he did seem to have the build of a pro athlete and a power that, while untapped, was still useful in the business. And the organization did need all hands on deck in this time of crisis.
"Alright, alright. You could've called up ahead of time, might've simplified this whole process, but I guess you're here now. We can start the registration process soon..." Powers trailed off as he picked up the last part of Chad's sentence. "Wait, scratch that, hold on a second. Who the fuck is the Chainsaw Charlatan?"
Chad obviously did not hear or was not in the right state of mind to respond and continued talking. "My Boss is Percy P-porter, and my hours are 10 to 7. My favorite food is P-pizza, even though I eat a ton of it since I work at a Pizza p-place. My blog is The Bullet Chamber and it's super c-cool, and I don't want to go to prison!!! I-I think my Social Security is 318-"
Powers shook his head. "We don't have to go into this, you know, you told me enough. You're not going to go to jail...for Christ's sake, I don't need your social security number, why the hell would I need your social security number..."
"I think it's on my phone... C-can I please get up? My suit is really hard to clean..."
"Yes, for the love of God, please get up." Powers gave Chad a serious look. "Listen, Chad, this is a serious organization that grapples with serious villains and serious situations. Our organization is currently under attack by a terrorist that wants to destabilize the entire city and cause as much chaos and death as humanly possible. Before you join us, you have to acknowledge that as a superhero for HERO, your life may be put in serious jeopardy and even taken in the pursuit of justice. You will be fighting against criminals, villains, and creatures that can cause danger on a catastrophic level, and you're bound to take it on headfirst and fight against it with every fiber in your being, and to do right any time you can." Powers' gaze was somber and serious. "If you're still willing to join the organization..." Powers extended his hand. "Then we can get to work. There's more paperwork that you'll need to fill out to be an official member, of course, but in this time of need, I'll be willing to temporarily skip over the official forms and get straight into business."
"So, what do you say? Are you in?"
Christina seemed surprisingly unperturbed by Pandora's entrance, and her words seemed to have little impact on the young assistant director's state of mind. She stood entirely unaffected, a grin still on her face, as Pandora spoke. "Christina Lavender, hmm?" the woman had said, her voice oozing with gravity. This was a woman that had seen a lot, a woman that was bold, a woman that knew her shit. That was what the dossier had told Christina, and that was what she was prepared to find.
Christina gave a wide smile and a peppy nod. "The one and only. Unfortunately I don't have any posters or anything, but I can you a nice autograph if you want. Of course, you can always Google me...always ticks me off that some of the top search results are weird Tumblr fanclubs, but I guess that's the price of fame." Christina was not gloating just because she could, but rather, she had a plan, a plan she was about to set into motion.
"You know what doesn't surprise me?" the woman asked, and Christina could sense a strong dose of blistering enmity in her voice. "That the thing that finally brought HERO crawling to my doorstep was incompetence. You've come here, to my little flower shop, to plead for my help. It's degrading." Pandora said jeeringly, looking down at the flower in her hands.
Christina smiled softly, waiting for the woman to finish before speaking. "I think you have a few misconceptions about why I'm here," Christina said casually as she looked at Pandora, smirking. "So let's clear that up right away. First off, I'm not here to beg for your help. Simply put, we don't need your help. Your help would be very nice, sure, and I'm sure we'd have a whale of a time together, but the fact of the matter is, we don't need you in the organization. Just like you don't need us." Christina's tone hardened as she spoke, by the end her tone growing to a serious level, a depth and solemnity that would've made Powers impressed. "The reason I'm here is that I'm offering a business proposition. You have a great set of skills and powers that would be very helpful for us to have. On the other hand, we have the power to allow you to use those skills and powers for something other than running a flower shop. That was the reason HERO was founded, along with the other hero agencies across the globe. To give people with extraordinary abilities the power to do something more. You've been around for some time, and you've done a great deal of things, for sure. But the idea that you've come to Castleburg only to run a flower shop and wallow through the rest of your life is, quite simply, laughable." Christina's speaking became more and more derisive as she spoke, her tone snowballing as she continued her mini-speech.
"Of course, on the off-chance that I'm wrong, and that your only life goal is to run a flower business, then I'll just get this nice pot of daffodils and maybe arrange for some lovely wedding flowers, and I'll be on my merry way. You won't ever have to see me again. But I have a feeling- a good soldier's sense, you know- that you want more than this." She gestured around the flower shop, before quickly adding, "Your flowers are lovely, don't get me wrong, but a person with your powers could be doing so much more. And HERO can help you with that."
"Oh! And also..." Christina leaned across the counter, her eyes turning steely and serious, as she spoke again. "You may call yourself Pandora, if you want, but your name is Mary Silverstone, nee Madison, not whatever identity you've contrived for yourself." Christina looked down at her nails, which were a deep shade of burgundy, a golden ring with a shimmering diamond implanted in its center currently resting on Christina's ring finger. "Technically, you've broken a few laws trying to escape your old life. Quite a few. I could list them off, of course, but that's more of ICOSA's job than mine. I'm not going to come after you for that, obviously, it's your right and all that...but if ICOSA was to catch wind of your flower shop, maybe send some agents to Castleburg for a quick visit, well, I guess my hands would be tied. I wonder what it would be like to spend eternity in jail...? Just a hypothetical question, of course." Christina slid her glove back on. "Well, anyway, do we have an agreement? You working with HERO would be huge for both of us. Also, I'd like to mention that we keep ICOSA away from our employees...on the off-chance that they have broken international law and are technically on the lam from the international superhero police. It's not like I know anybody who falls under that category," Christina said, her daring, vivacious eyes looking up at Pandora's own.
Dakota nodded in response to Iris. "Right, well, we might not have seen it, but we're going to see it very soon. Unless, I mean, we aren't. Then we won't be seeing it soon. Ooh, imagine if the wellspring was just a scam the whole time? That would be cool." Dakota smiled thoughtfully as she watched Iris remove a black book, like some type of sketchbook, and began to write in it enthusiastically sketch in it. Dakota was tempted to peak into the book and see what Iris was writing about, but she knew that it was really none of her business (Dakota would hate to accidentally stumble upon her diary), so she instead sat down next to Iris on the porch step, looking ahead absent-mindedly as Astro scuttled down from her shoulder, running down her arm and then leg before curling up and nesting on top of Dakota's sneakers. Dakota smiled as Astro curled up there, and she subconsciously leaned over, her shoulder up against Iris, and she felt her head start to lean towards her direction before she snapped awake as another witch approached them.
She was an electrifying young woman, with stark black hair and a rather pretty look about her, determination in her stance. Dakota grinned. She had good vibes from her. "Right! This is the coven house. We're meeting here in a few," Dakota explained while simultaneously distancing herself a few inches from Iris. Personal space was important. "I don't fully remember seeing you around? I'm Dakota Lawson. Or Kota." Dakota stood from the porch step, extending her hand towards the newcoming witch. "You made it just in time! We were just about to meet, and I think we're going to the wellspring soon? It's gonna be great!" Dakota bounced eagerly on her feet as she made her way down the steps. "By the way, you have, like, really nice eyes. They're so cool. All blue and stuff." She smiled genuinely at this compliment as she walked down to greet the new witch. "Oh, gosh, I can't wait for this initiation...gonna be so cool."
Speaks to: Iris Aderast Isolde Morden @Blizz Mentions:
Unbeknownst to most, Jean-Luc was in attendance the entire time. He had gotten to the gathering hours in advance, ate as soon as the food was put out, and then promptly found a nice spot to shelter in. That spot was a tall tree near the Coven House, and Jean-Luc had promptly nestled himself inside a nice space between two thick branches, resting his back against one branch and his legs against the other. He had heard two of the other girls, Dakota and Calypso, planning to scale the tree, but Jean-Luc paid them no mind. He simply continued to stare at the book in his hands, reading, as he sat comfortably in the tree. His clothes, admittedly, were not made for tree-scaling and the like. He was dressed to impress, wearing a dark navy button-down shirt and similarly-colored slacks, a leather belt with a golden skull buckle wrapped around his waist, a pair of brown loafers on his feet. It was surprising he was even able to scale the tree in the first place with such unathletic footwear, but Jean-Luc had his ways. Lastly, in his hands, was a thick, hard-covered book. It looked vintage, with a beaten black leather cover wrapped with a silky gray ribbon that hung from the cover, used to keep the book shut. A deep scarlet skull and crossbones was drawn onto the front cover, and a coat-of-arms with two tropical birds and a hibiscus engraved on the back. These were not just decorative elements, they were curses that were woven onto the book. The thick book was a collection of both Jean-Luc's various curses and personal thoughts, in essence a goldmine to his thought processes, and so he made sure the book was protected. Anybody that tried to open the book that was not authorized to do so would have...bad things happen to them.
Jean-Luc leafed through some of the pages, reading with focus, as he sat in the tree. The pages were worn and crammed with ink, Jean-Luc's scrawling handwriting filling nearly every inch of free space on the page. Jean-Luc was currently reading through a very interesting bit he had written about a special type of curse when he heard Sister Deborah speaking, immediately closing the book and looking over. So the game was finally afoot...
Jean-Luc hopped down from the tree a few moments later, with the two girls that were once planning on scaling the tree now gone. They must have found better things to do, then. It was for the best- had they gotten to the top, Jean-Luc would've certainly sent them tumbling back down. Dedication clear in his eyes, he made his way across the lawn towards the Coven House, his grimoire/diary clenched firmly in his right hand. His goal was to become a witch, and this was the day, the time, that his dream would be fulfilled. Though his unmoving features did not show it, ecstasy filled his body. He was ready.
"Li se tan..."
Speaks to: Himself lol Mentions: Calypso Barnes @canaryrose, Dakota Lawson @Hitman
Blake rubbed his head as everybody spoke, drawing up a bunch of elaborate plans for how to continue the invasion. He also thought he heard Rumi mention something about "ogres," which Blake took to be some type of elaborate science-speak. After all, it couldn't be the guy from Shrek, right? No way. Blake's pounding headache prevented him from really soaking in any of the information that was being laid out. Patricia's screeching wasn't helping at all. Normally, Blake would use this as a prime teasing opportunity, but his head hurt so much that he was forced to forgo that operation. He did hear Will say something about him charging headfirst into the odors, or ogres, or whatever the fuck they were. Blake shrugged. ”Alright, sounds good. Charge into Octobers,” Blake said, rubbing his head as he walked down the path. A green and out-of-place street sign read Via Appia. Blake glanced at the sign, squinting and reading it. ”Look, it says 'Vine Apple!' Maybe Grace and Eliza are in...an apple orchard!” Blake said, and it was rather hard to tell if he was serious or not. ”Well, let's split up and look. I guess I'm heading to the apple farm...I'll send up a flare if I find anything, so keep an eye out for that,” Blake was casually, before turning. ”Oh, look, TV screen! I wonder if we're on the news!”
Blake was, in fact, not on the news. The news was not on at all. What was on was a live recording of Nero, watching with glee as the heroes struggled to come up with a plan. ”Oh, I'm afraid nobody is going to watch you die. Except my client, of course, but they aren't inclined to help you, anyway.” Nero laughed. ”But I might as well let you get to watch your friends die while you struggle around my wonderful arena! Isn't that nice of me?”
"Yeah, that's pretty cool, thanks man-...oh, WAIT A SECOND!”
Nero laughed as he flicked a detonator in his hand a few times, sending an electric pulse through the rack that Grace and Eliza were currently tied to. It looked almost like some sort of fence, obviously electric, as it sparked blue, causing Grace's body to jolt, her eyes shooting open. It wasn't enough voltage to be too painful, of course, but it was enough to wake them up, and Grace's eyes shot open suddenly with the voltage, immediately taking in the room. It was some type of office, with a lovely Tunisian carpet, green wallpaper and weapon racks everywhere, and a large metal safe against the wall behind a work desk cluttered in paperwork. Even villains had to do paperwork. Look at that.
Grace groaned as she blinked her eyes a few times, looking into the camera that was facing her. Nero was laughing. ”Now, Bypass, how does it feel to be held hostage, thus forcing your friends to fight ogres to the death in an elaborate Roman deathtrap?”
Grace looked over at her arms and legs, which seemed to be zip-tied to some sort of device. "Not good. Can they hear me?"
”Yes, they can. Tell them how you feel! Or how handsome I look in this armor!"
Grace took a deep breath before immediately setting off into a long and very quickly-spoken rant. "GUYS THE WINGS OF LAW KIDNAPPED US AND WANT US DEAD, THE WATER GIRL CHOKED ME OUT WITH A WATER BUBBLE, TELL THE DIRECTOR, AND ALSO, LOMBARDO'S OGRES ARE REALLY SENSITIVE TO LIGHT SO IF YOU WANT TO BEAT THEM MAKE SURE YOU SHINE SOMETHING BRIGHT IN THEIR EYES, THEY RELY HEAVILY ON THEIR SENSES SO IF YOU CAN OVERLOAD THEM YOU CAN TAKE THEM OUT FOR A WHILE-"
Grace's fast and loud rant was cut off by Nero pressing a button on the remote he was holding, delivering an impressive shock to Grace. She gave a screech that would make an adult screech owl proud as her body jolted for a few seconds, though she was still bound to the electric fence contraption. The blue flickering lasted maybe 10 seconds before it stopped, with Grace hanging limply from the fence. Nero glared. ”That's for messing up the plan. And this-" He gave poor Eliza a quick zap, not as prolonged (only a second or two) but just as painful. ”-is just because I find it amusing. Can you believe they sell these for only a couple hundred bucks on the dark web...so useful for torturing prisoners. Well, good luck!" And with that comment, the screen turned to black.
Blake turned back to the gang, eyebrows raised. "Only thing I caught out of that was Wings of Law...I know they hate us, but paying for a villain to kidnap us and torture us? Fuck..." Blake turned around, his mouth gaping as he saw the pack of ogres approach- about 20 or so, wearing tattered loincloths and holding crude clubs and spears of wood in their hands, hooting at the gang. Blake clenched his fists. "You guys run off and find Grace and Eliza. I'll deal with them. What did she say they were sensitive to, again? Kites? Alright, I got this...” Blake said with a grin, putting both palms together. He then gestured forwards, flames billowing from his hands to form a diamond of fire, a ribbon of smoke trailing behind it. Blake had made a fire kite.
The brightly-burning fire kite caused the ogres to hoot and fall back, clenching their eyes and running away from the fire kite, which was currently aggressively chasing them. Blake grinned. "Hahah, look at those losers, they're scared of kites! Damn, I'm good. Anyway, what was that plan again?"
Hugo Powers was not having a good day today.
First of all, the Zero raid at Armstrong & Armstrong that he had failed at stopping. He was so close, and he had let them slip through his fingers once again, letting them get away with something, another piece of the puzzle. Once again, HERO was in the dark on this mysterious organization's goals and plans. Zero was winning over HERO. This was a bad start to the day.
On top of that, Caustic had decided that he would also strike today by killing Rainbow Dancer, an admittedly very guilty and very bad hero, but a very popular one nonetheless, on live TV. Rainbow Dancer might not have had many accolades in the HERO business, but he had tons of fans. Tons of them. His confession and subsequent execution had caused the HERO lines to be flooded by scores of angry fans demanding Caustic's recapture, and an official HERO alert had been sent on, calling all heroes to HERO One for an emergency briefing on Caustic. HERO One was currently on maximum defense, with a vast majority of the heroes present at the titanic headquarters. If Caustic was foolish enough to attack, it would be his demise. Powers doubted that, but he also knew that keeping everybody at HERO One kept them safe and organized for the time being as he planned out the organization's next moves.
On top of that, though, Powers' authority was being questioned. Seraph had sent Powers a very angry e-mail demanding special protection services for the members of the Wings of Law and other elite HOGs. Powers had responded by saying that hiring special HERO bodyguards for other heroes was not allowed by the organization, to which Seraph did not respond. Powers had enough to deal with right now, and he did not need Seraph's whiny ass bitching about his own safety. If he was as strong as he said he was, he wouldn't need a bodyguard unit. Of course, Seraph was not out on the streets right now. He was holed up in his penthouse under heavy protection. Heavy protection. Powers didn't even understand why he needed heroes to protect him when he had three bodyguard services doing it already.
And lastly, Powers was missing a group of heroes. The usual gang of suspects when it came to tardiness, true, but something didn't add up. They had been at a very wild party the night before, and could be recovering into the morning, but there was something wrong there. Some of his more reliable heroes, less inclined to attend such a rager and drink extensively at said rager, were also absent from HERO One without a word, which was unusual. On top of that, one of Starbright's personal secretaries had called him and informed him that they were not at the von Brandt residency, which was where Powers knew the party had gone on. Powers was fairly certain they were safe from Caustic, but the fact that they were still missing troubled him.
Powers was currently in his office, wearing a heavy robe of thick fur, several empty mugs (along with one half-full one) of hot chocolate sitting on his desk as Powers reviewed a tape of Rainbow Dancer's execution over and over again, looking for any clues, hints, anything, to help Powers find out what the man was up to, and more importantly, where he was up to. An ICOSA agent had sworn that Caustic was in the East Flank, but the lead had turned cold. After a long while of searching, Powers shut the laptop, walking out to the elevator and riding it down to the first floor. He needed some fresh air.
As the Director stepped out the front doors of HERO One, a hero known as Dangerous Bumblebee (he was C tier and not exactly dangerous) ran up to him with concern in his eyes. "Director, there's something moving towards HERO One!"
Powers groaned. He did not need another headache today. "What kind of something?"
"I think a person, sir."
Powers groaned as he walked over to where the hero had guided him to. Bumblebee pointed at a fast-moving...thing speeding towards HERO One. On closer examination, it was a person, wearing an all-black suit and moving towards HERO One at high speeds. This was not a good sign, and Powers was about to handle it in the way Powers did best.
He stood there, right in front of the speedster's trajectory.
Whether or not he made contact with Powers was irrelevant, as it didn't matter either way. Powers' superpower had allowed him to shrug off actual bullets and much more in the past, and a man moving at high speeds was certainly not going to be able to hurt him in the slightest. Powers simply stood still, arms crossed, as the figure blitzed towards him. Whether he hit Powers or stopped himself before, Powers didn't move at all, just standing, before reeling back one arm and slapping the man to the ground. There was a loud crack as Powers literally bitch-slapped the mysterious man in all-black across the face, with more than enough force to send him to the ground. Powers then approached the figure, arms crossed once again, towering over them, glaring down.
"You have ten seconds to tell me your name, occupation, and why the hell you're here, or else I put you in a cell with the meanest bastard in all of Coldwater. So if that idea doesn't sound appealing to you, start talking."
Entering Pandora's Potts was a young lady in her late 20s, with her short pinkish red hair pulled back, wearing a black Division X uniform, a black jacket covered in straps and buckles for holding equipment, a pair of black shorts with a heavy belt that carried two pistols, one on each side of the woman's hipps, and a pair of tall black boots, a combat knife strapped to the side of one of them. The woman, of course Christina Lavender, Assistant Director of HERO, and she looked around the flower shop, a small smile creeping onto her lips as she examined the interior of the store. It was nice. Cozy. Relaxing.
Christina tapped a counter a few times. She coughed to clear her throat, before speaking loudly, her voice bounding through the shop as she searched for the woman that ran the store. "Pandora? Are you in here? Or should I say, Mary?" Christina yelled out, smirking. That should've gotten her attention. From her belt she removed a HERO business card, a phone number and address (not like the latter was that hard to come by) written on in thick, block letters. Christina casually twirled the card in her fingers. "HERO is in need of some assistance, and you seem to fit the bill. Also, do you guys do wedding corsages and bouquets? I need those too. Oh, and I'll take these carnations, too. They look absolutely lovely. You take good care of the flowers here!" Christina kept babbling as she waited for Pandora to approach. Any moment now.
Name Jean-Luc Baptiste Laguerre Generally referred to as "Jean-Luc" in full, but he won't complain if he's referred to by a nickname.
Gender Male
Age 18
Birthday 11/30
Sexuality Pomosexual
Appearance Jean-Luc has an appearance that looks distant and cold. He's tall and lean, not quite buff but not very thin, with a developed musculature packed into a slightly hunched figure. One of his most notable physical characteristics is his skin, which has a dark, ebony hue to it, with a few areas of lighter coloration present on his knees and hands, where he's had some scrapes and scars in the past. He wears a stern, serious face most of the time, and in general doesn't come across as a very 'happy' person. Smiles are rare for him. He has very deep, dark brown eyes, watchful and inquisitive, and wide protruding lips.
His color scheme is mostly shades of black and violet, with white colors worn sparsely. While he does gravitate towards nicer clothes, his wardrobe is a mix of many different styles, some formal and some less so. He does make an effort to make himself look presentable at all times, but his clothing isn't always highly dressy. Jean-Luc tends to wear necklaces quite often, normally dangling a couple around his neck.
Jean-Luc has a noticeable Haitian accent, not overbearing or strong enough to make him hard to understand, but it is certainly present in his speech. It's been described as almost soothing in a way. Height: 6'1" Weight: 166 lbs
Personality If Jean-Luc could be described in one word, it would be 'intense.' Jean-Luc is a serious, focused, and dedicated person, the type that rarely cracks a smile and can keep a straight face throughout some of the funniest of moments. Jean-Luc is grave and somber, collected in his thoughts and ever the cool type, detached and pensive. He much prefers the atmosphere that silence brings about rather than raucous laughter and discussion. That's not to say that Jean-Luc is antisocial; he's certainly capable of holding a conversation and quite enjoys one-on-one discussion, but is the type to shy away from larger crowds, parties, and large gatherings. He doesn't enjoy living alone, but seeks companionship over large assemblies of acquaintances.
That's not to say that Jean-Luc is always the best of companions. It depends on what you're looking for in a friend. Jean-Luc is brutally honest, blunt, and often overly harsh in his critiques. He comes off easily as very candid and almost rude, offering his own direct truths as opposed to watered-down euphemisms and compliments. He does this out of a place of caring- he believes that having strength and growing is a crucial trait, especially for the witchlings of the coven, but his 'advice' can often be disagreeable, especially to those who aren't asking for it in the first place. Jean-Luc is certainly capable of taking what he receives, and he's almost immune to negative comments, with any attempt at an insult bouncing off of him harmlessly, but he gives off an aura of authority, if not superiority. Jean-Luc, simply put, acts like an adult in a room full of children, even if he's in a room of his peers or other adults. In all due fairness to him, Jean-Luc is very sagacious and shrewd, and his advice is often rather wise, but his delivery is often unfiltered and hence rather jarring. It can take some type to get accustomed to him.
Jean-Luc, at heart, is a surprisingly loving person to those that know him. He is extremely honest and has a very high integrity, and is also a very loyal and brave person. He's not foolishly courageous, and is sometimes too clever for his own good, but he's loyal and dauntless in his actions. To see him taken aback is as rare as to see him smile, which is indeed something very rare indeed to see.
To those he dislikes, though, beware, because Jean-Luc's moral compass is often a few clicks off from what would be considered normal, and he's willing to go to lengths to punish people that he believe deserve it. He's more than willing to teach people a lesson on his own accord, and his powers can be very scary. Jean-Luc is a great friend and a surprisingly caring person once you get to know him, but God is he a terrible enemy to have.
Biography Jean-Luc was born in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, to two capable witches in the region. Though Jean-Luc strongly identifies with Haitian culture, language, and customs, his memories of actually living in the nation of Haiti itself are few. His family left Haiti when Jean-Luc was a toddler, migrating to Raleigh in North Carolina and moving up further north later on. Jean-Luc's parents were dedicated and hard-working, and they always put their children first. While the family at first had nothing, Jean-Luc's father opened up a small Caribbean restaurant with a friend that later turned into a small chain, able to provide a more-than-suitable living for the young family. Jean-Luc was able to experience the American Dream firsthand, and was able to tangibly feel a rise from relative poverty to relative wealth.
Of course, Jean-Luc's parents are not only chefs and businesspeople. The Laguerre family has had a long history of witches in it of itself, with both paternal and maternal family trees tracing back through generations of spectacular magicians, and Jean-Luc was no different. He was closely embroiled in the Coven activities from an early age, learning magic fervently and becoming highly dedicated to its practice. While his parents balanced Coven activities with active work and social lives, Jean-Luc had tunnel-vision to become a powerful witch. Recesses for him were spent reading and practicing in secret, free time allocated to his studies of various forms of magic and curses. His skills grew rapidly, at the cost of living a normal life. Sure, he went to school and he had some friends, but he was always the quiet kid in the corner, the weird kid.
As he approaches time to join the Coven, Jean-Luc is ecstatic to be a part of the group, though, as usual, he won't ever show it.
Notable Rumors That Jean-Luc once used a curse to kill a boyfriend that cheated on him. He most definitely did not kill anybody, but there may have been some curses placed and some form of damage done.
Greatest Fear Cynophobia (Fear of dogs) Jean-Luc was bitten when he was 6, and while he isn't deathly scared of the animals, he will gladly move away from them if they get near him.
Magic Jean-Luc is a highly skilled young witchling that would, for the most part, be considered a generalist. He has some areas of magic that seems to be more focused, however, and some areas that are weaker.
Specialty: Curses Jean-Luc's parents were both prodigies in this field, and Jean-Luc has learned how to place curses on individuals with phenomenal results. Jean-Luc is able to put minor curses on individuals without much difficulty, able to cause targets to stub their toe on their bedframe or trip over a twig and hurt themselves, nothing significant or long-lasting. For repercussions that are significant, however, Jean-Luc would have to apply a much more significant sacrifice to make the curse effective. Though requiring sacrifice, these higher-level curses can have a very destructive effect on a person that can slowly (or quickly) rip apart their lives. Jean-Luc only has a theoretical understanding of these more destructive curses, though. Jean-Luc's two strongest weapons in his arsenals are causing wounds to become unhealing for long periods of time (the "yon blesi ki pap geri" or "unhealing wound" is in theory supposed to be eternal, but Jean-Luc is nowhere near that level of severity) and causing severe relationship damage to the people the afflicted person cares about. Jean-Luc has never used this curses yet, due to the legality of them along with the sacrifice necessary, but has a good understanding on how to cast them should he ever need to.
Specialty: Soulbonding Jean-Luc's other unique talent is the ability to link a mortal being with an object and exercise limited manipulation of that target. Jean-Luc, through using a piece of the afflicted's body (such as hair, a tooth, anything really) or a possession of sentimental value, is able to link either another person or an inanimate object, like a doll, to the afflicted. From there, Jean-Luc can use magic to cause a sort of sympathetic link that will cause the afflicted to move and feel what the linked object (person or thing) is doing. To maintain this link for long periods of time requires a great deal of magical energy and sacrifice, especially when linking two people together. Jean-Luc would traditionally do this type of magic with a sort of voodoo doll or poppet, though he will be quick to point out that the conception of voodoo dolls being linked to Haitian Vodou is perpetuated by Western stereotypes. Still, it's a pretty awesome and terrifying magic to see in practice.
Minor Specialty: Potions Jean-Luc is fairly skilled at making potions. It's not exactly one of his strongest suits, but he's fairly adept at doing so and is overall capable of making a good chunk of potions.
Minor Specialty: Charms Jean-Luc is fairly skilled at creating and using charms as well. They aren't as effective as his curses are, of course, but Jean-Luc is still able to successfully create and use them on a fairly high level.
Weakness: Elemental
Weakness: Healing Magic
Other Familiar: Jean-Luc's lovely familiar is as far from fluffy as possible. Namely, it's a Central American boa constrictor named Ghede, a lazy and often moody snake of over 6 feet that is named for a renowned Loa of Haitian vodou. Jean-Luc loves reptiles and is quite affectionate of Ghede, though Ghede seems to never return the favor towards Jean-Luc or anybody else, for that matter.
Language: Jean-Luc is fluent in English and Haitian Creole, and rather proficient in French.
Dakota sighed in relief as Iris picked up the (mostly) unharmed golem. "Oh, good. I was worried for a moment that I had-...I mean, that Astro had broken it." Dakota looked down at the squirming ferret sternly, before her eyes flitted back up to iris, a smile returning to her face. She nodded enthusiastically as Iris mentioned Astro, proudly lifting the struggling creature up again. "Astro's super playful. He just likes to mess around, grab small things, play with them, do all that." Dakota gestured over to Corvus the golem. "I guess he thought that your golem was a chew toy or something. He loves squeaky things. He's the best, though! You can pet him if you want! He doesn't bite!" Dakota paused for a moment, looking down at the ferret in her hands before biting her lip. "Alright, so he does bite, but normally only me. Still, he's a bit feisty today...maybe once he's more accustomed to the house and all that, you can play with him. He loves playing. I'm sure he'll get along fine with your golems once I train him not to eat them." Dakota smiled confidently at this idea, even though she knew full well that such a task would be nigh-impossible to complete. "He's really the best possible pet. He's great," she proclaimed boldly as she finally released Astro from her grip, the ferret scuttling up her arm and perching on her shoulder, his head twisting as he looked around this strange new place
"Anyway, nice seeing you again, Curly. The...denim look really suits you!" Dakota complimented, giving Iris a chipper smile before turning over her shoulder, her eyes locking with Summer's for a brief moment before wandering elsewhere. Pretending to instead focus on an owl in the distant treeline, Dakota's eyes occasionally flitted back over to Summer and company a few times, as inconspicuously as possible. She had swore that Summer had shot a look (a look not in the positive sense) over at Dakota, and she did not like that one bit. So what if her clothes weren't super formal? It was summertime in Virginia; Dakota needed clothes with some breath-ability in them. A tank top and jean shorts were both perfectly acceptable options, thank you very much. As somebody who liked to both run and fly, Dakota saw several significant issues that would come about with wearing high heels and a dress respectively. She looked perfectly neat, anyway, and she was perfectly presentable! As Dakota mulled over these thoughts, she plucked a burr that was stuck to her shirt off and tossed it away.
Her mind snapping back to present swiftly, Dakota looked back to Iris, her thoughtful frown once again being turned upside-down. "Anyway, I can't wait to see the wellspring! It sounds super cool..." Dakota trailed off a bit, before energetically adding, "And staying here all the time is going to be great too! I miss all of you guys, anyway, so it's going to be a blast to get to hang out with you! Ooh, we can be roomies and stuff! Wouldn't that be fun, me and you? Ooh, I gotta show you that hair brush that I charmed! I was gonna give it to Callie but it looks like your hair could use some straightening up too. Looks like you've been living with the wolves for a while." Dakota giggled. "Kidding! Your heart looks great. Really lovely. Seriously, though, I'm looking forward to hanging out with you! And everybody else!" She paused, sneaking a very noticeable glance at Summer before looking back at Iris. "Almost everybody else."
Speaks to: Iris Aderast @Blizz Mentions: Summer Abernathy @Danvers
4:05 AM July 5th, 2033 Armstrong & Armstrong Security Central Brookside, Castleburg
"S1 to S2. In position. Over."
Katharine lowered her finger from her earpiece, awaiting a response. She was currently standing on the top of a rather tall building in central Brookside, a slightly less seedy part of the district that had a few more prominent businesses located there. Armstrong & Armstrong was one of them. An old security firm that has existed since colonial times, cousins John Winthrop Armstrong and Christopher James Armstrong, both superhuman members of the Revolutionary Army, founded the business in the late 1700s and have remained in business since. Their firm is well-reputed as one of the best there are in private security. Armstrong & Armstrong combines top-tier security gadgetry with a small group of hired superhumans to protect private interests across the city. It's been reputed that any building with the old "A&A" sign planted in front of it is impossible to crack into. But here Katharine was, standing on top of their executive offices, donning a sleek black bodysuit and platinum utility belt around her waist. She was quite pleased with herself- she looked badass.
The clear earpiece in her ear buzzed as noise came through. "S2 to S1. Area is clear. No heroes on patrol in this region, no police detected, and HERO2 is currently over Passenger Island. Proceed. Over."
Katharine nodded as she made her way over to the air duct, removing what appeared to be a screwdriver from her belt. Tapping a button on the handle, the screwdriver began to whir and spin, and Katharine quickly unbolted the grate into the air vents, sliding it off quietly. She then took a deep breath before slowly stepping into the vent, ducking inside and then sliding down. She landed softly at the bottom of the slope, showing a long stretch of duct ahead of her. She tapped her earpiece again. "S1 to S2. Need S6 to disable motion sensors. Over."
She got a response a few seconds later. "S2 to S1. Sensors disabled. Continue with the plan. Over."
Kat nodded and began to crawl, moving very slowly and very quietly through the vents. She quietly scuttled past the grates, making sure the chances she was seen or heard were minimal. After moving over 3 grates, she stopped at the fourth, unclipping the screwdriver yet again and swiftly unscrewing the grate, sliding it out of the way. Beneath her were two men wearing blue uniforms, an A&A patch on each of their chests, and a sidearm clipped to their waists. The two were standing in front of a steel door labelled 'Private Vaults,' which was currently locked shut. The two were discussing casually, both visibly exhausted.
"Ooh, tough one, tough one...I really like that movie Olivia Wilde did with Jason Sudeikis, though..."
Kat sighed and jumped through the hole, landing on top of one of the security guards squarely and crushing him to the ground with a loud crack. As the other one reached for their sidearm in shock, Kat lunged at him, putting one hand over his mouth and pushing him against the wall with the other. Her hand glowed read, and the man quickly started to burst into hives before falling to the ground, wheezing. Kat dusted off her hands, looking down at the two downed security guards on the ground. "Olivia Newton-John is 80," she said crassly, before turning back to the metal door, removing what appeared to be a credit card from Valentine Industries from her belt and inserting it into the chip reader. The chip reader promptly exploded, sparking everywhere, and the metal door swung open. Kat stepped inside, walking down the laser-grid hallway casually, the lasers mysteriously vanishing as she got close to them. At the end of the hallway was another metal door for extra security, but with the same tactics as the first, it was promptly unlocked as well. The room behind it was a circular room, a rotunda, with vaults running around the outsides of the room. Kat tapped her earpiece again. "S1 to S2. I'm inside. Whose vault are we looking for?"
"Your target is the vault labelled 'Bram Jansen.' Should be located somewhere to your right."
Kat shuffled over to the right side of the circular room, walking around until she saw the steel door with the words 'Bram Jansen' printed on a nameplate in the center of the door. She unclipped the third and final gadget from her utility belt, a device that looked like a needle, and inserted it into the mechanical lock. Some sparks flew from inside the lockhole, but after a moment, the metal door swung open. Kat stepped inside the vault, which had an impressive variety of what appeared to be old musical instruments. Kat looked around. "Old pieces of junk...boring...where's the target..." she muttered, rummaging around, before her face lit up. "A-ha!" she exclaimed triumphantly as she removed her query from behind a few old violins sitting on a shelf. Clutched in her hands was what appeared to be a very large but old-looking piece of parchment, tied up with a tattered red ribbon. Kat held it in one hand as she tapped her earpiece with the other. "S1 to S2, I have the item. Moving to the extraction point now," she said confidently, not even bothering to listen to the response as she walked out of the vault. Her eyes curiously flickered to the vault door next to the one she had just robbed. It was labelled 'Hugo Powers.' Kat rubbed her hands together as she stepped towards the vault door, removing her lockpicking needle and swiftly burning out the lock. "Can't hurt..." she muttered as she swung the vault door open, stepping inside.
Powers' vault was, for the most part, exactly what one would envision his private vault being. High-grade, expensive weapons hung on the sides of the walls, a few ancient swords and shields propped up alongside a few trophies and medals that were hanging around. At the end of the wall, though, in the center of a shelf, was a single CD inside a crystalline case. Kat's eyes widened dramatically as she saw it. "S1 to S2, I think I found an unedited copy of the HERO database! This might have the information we need!"
Winterfall audibly groaned in response. "You are going behind the parameters of this mission, Malady. You are putting this entire operation in jeopardy."
"Too late." Kat reached over and snatched the CD case from the shelf. As soon as she did so, a loud alarm began to blare through the vault, and then it began to blare throughout the rest of the facility. “Intruder detected in the private vault. Alerting Division X,” the cool, collected voice of Samantha resonated through the vault, as Kat dropped the CD in panic. It rattled on the ground. It was a fake. A trap. A decoy, and Kat fell for it hook, line, and sinker.
Winterfall, meanwhile, was rather irate. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you. If you end up rotting in jail for the rest of your existence, don't blame me."
"They're calling Division X, Winterfall, help me!"
"I will, but just understand that my purpose therein is not out of concern for your own personal interests, but for the interests of Zero and my position within it-"
"SHUT UP AND HELP!" Kat released a large cloud of red fog that spread down the corridor, engulfing several Division X members and causing them to begin spontaneously convulsing, dropping to the floor in a fit. "Shit, how are they here already?!" Kat looked around frantically before pacing back, away from one of the walls in the vault. "Alright, I'm in position. Send it down." As she spoke, a red laser traced a circle in the roof of the vault, causing a slab of metal to drop to the ground. A rope promptly fell through, which Kat grabbed onto, quickly scaling the length through the hole in the ceiling onto the roof. The rope had been tied to a hook that was currently latched onto the roof. Kat crawled out, panting and looking around.
"S1 to S2. I have the package and am on the roof. Send down the helicopter."
Kat released her finger from her ear, sighing in relief, before freezing as she heard a loud buzzing sound. She turned around to see Hugo Powers, wearing a black armored suit, a white "X" emblazoned on his chest, holding what appeared to be some sort of electrostaff, a bo staff with two sparking electric ends. Powers twirled the staff in his hands. "Malady."
Malady wasted no time attacking, sending a large cloud of red gas directly at Powers, promptly engulfing him in it. Powers was supposed to contract some type of organ failure, but instead, he charged out of the smoke like it was nothing, rushing towards Kat and slamming the electric end into her stomach. Kat visibly jolted before being launched across the rooftop, tumbling towards the edge. "Fuck..." she cursed, her body twitching as she laid there. Powers walked across, electric staff in hand, pointing the tip directly at Katharine. "For what's supposed to be a top-tier villain, you go down awfully quickly," Powers commented, his eyes glaring down at her.
Kat was glaring right back, coughing a few times as she clutched her stomach, laying on the ground. Those electric staffs did a number on her. "How did you..." she began, before coughing a few times, blood trickling from her lips. Those staffs really messed her up.
"My power has a positive effect on the internal organs you were trying to target," Powers explained, showing no visible sympathy to the teen laying before her. The staff crackled with electricity as he held it above Kat's neck. "You're going to be coming with me."
"Fuck you-" Kat began, but did not finish as Powers rapped her hard with his staff in the shoulder. Kat loudly squealed as another wave of electricity went through her body, before coughing again, the blood dripping from her lips. Powers' eyes were cold and serious. "That wasn't a question. That was a demand. Now let's go."
Powers was about to reach down to grab Katharine by the throat and forcibly take her along when there was a sudden wave of cold, and Powers stopped moving spontaneously, standing mid-crouch before Katharine. Bitterly glaring down, he stood there helplessly as ice began to encase him, sealing him into a cocoon of ice. Standing at the other end of the roof, hand outstretched, was a man, not too old but not young, with neat blonde hair, a white lab coat, and a pair of sleek square glasses. The man adjusted his glasses. "Let's depart," he said as he briskly walked over, grabbing Katharine's hand roughly and pulling her to her feet. "I can't hold a man of his caliber for long. He'll break out soon enough."
Kat staggered forwards breathlessly, blood dripping onto his chin. A black helicopter was descending towards the rooftop rapidly, the doors opening in front of the two villains. Winterfall (for of course it was) stepped inside, before viciously pulling Kat onboard, causing the girl to fall to her face on the floor of the helicopter. Before she could regain her bearings, the doors closed and the helicotper took off, causing Kat to roughly roll across the floor of the helicopter into Winterfall's leg. He looked down, before lifting up the clipboard he was holding and swiftly rapping Kat on the back of the head.
"Next time, listen to my instructions, or the consequences will be much more severe."
"Sorry..." the girl grumbled.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop of the building, the ice cube holding Powers began to break, cracks spreading rapidly across the slab of ice until it spontaneously shattered, shards of ice falling everywhere, as Powers emerged, putting his hands on his knees and panting. After taking a few deep breaths and looking at his surroundings, he clenched his teeth and released a mighty "MOTHERFUCKER!" that resounded across the rooftops, his bellow enough to make even the most strong-willed of grown men burst to tears.
@Hitman Here's my character - let me know what I should change, I'm pretty tired when finishing this so it might not be the highest quality lol.
Name Chad 'Quick' Connors
Hero Name The Bullet (or THE BULLET, depending on who's asking).
Nicknames CQC, Bullet Train.
Gender Male
Age 18
Date of Birth November 12th
Physique 6'2 and 210 lbs, Chad is incredibly muscular from years of sports and intense weight lifting since childhood. He has caused several questions due to the contrast between his incredibly dark skin tone compared to his parent's ghostly pale. He usually laughs these questions off, however. He has many scars across his body, a result of immense amounts of training and being too curious around sharp objects. Chad is most easily identified by his dyed hair and his face tattoo that many people have described as 'tacky'.
Prior to actually joining H.E.R.O, he uses a homemade suit that was cobbled together using thrift store clothes and his Highschool football gear. He continues to use this after joining H.E.R.O, albeit only for missions requiring stealth since it is darker than his other suit. He refers to it as THE BULLET: SILENCER.
Chad's outfit after Joining H.E.R.O, this gear is both aesthetically appealing as well as being actually useful. The armor is actually fairly heavy since heavier weight does not impact Chad's speed much and it provides both protection as well as extra weight behind his attacks. The entire costume is resistant to friction burns caused by high-speed movement, with the shoes being especially resistant to the negative effects of speed. He refers to it as THE SILVER BULLET
Blood Type AB
Occupation Chad works full time as a Hero, but also works as a part-time Pizza Delivery Man due to the frequent pay cuts he receives from H.E.R.O
Side Hero.
Affiliation H.E.R.O
Tier C+. Could be a Low to High A if he actually used his power effectively, but his personality prevents him from doing so.
Personality Chad could best be described as paradoxical. He abhors killing others, yet jumps to violence and assaulting others for the weakest reasons. He constantly idolizes heroes and tries to portray himself as a pillar of justice, yet he will almost always run away when presented with a moderate chance of injury. And despite his incredibly crude appearance and mannerisms, he spends his free time reading, sewing, and practicing calligraphy.
Chad often speaks loudly and informally with everyone he meets regardless of the situation, and is surprisingly charismatic with most people he talks to. He enjoys learning about other people's lives and understanding them, and despite his more bombastic nature, he is a surprisingly good team player. He portrays a constantly upbeat and excitable demeanor, becoming incredibly invested in the most mundane of topics. Like his namesake, however, his attention can shift incredibly quickly if not constantly encouraged. Chad appears to be very self-confident, and he offers advice to anyone who asks... and sometimes people who don't ask.
His happy-go-lucky attitude however hides an incredibly insecure person, with his Self-confidence merely being a mask he wears around others. Ever since he dropped out of high school and left his parents, Chad has been struggling to reclaim the excitement and attention he had so much of in his youth. He became a hero almost solely because he needed some form of positive interaction, and he feels that his power is his only interesting attribute.
Backstory Chad lived what most would call a pampered life - he was adopted at a young age by an upper middle-class family, supplied with all the love he could ever need, and grew up to be a very extroverted child. Chad's father is a well-respected professor of physics at UNCA, while his mother is a somewhat well-known politician in the Castleburg Republican Party. Chad never experienced some of the things that other children did in their youth, such as learning proper money management skills and setting appropriate expectations. His family was extremely protective over him, and encouraged his development as best they knew how.
At the age of 10, Chad began to grow interested in physical sports. Baseball, basketball, track and field, nearly anything that could be remotely called a sport would interest Chad. This eventually culminated in him joining a youth football team, and he continued to train for the rest of his educational career. This was also the time that Chad became interested in the concept of Heroes.
The thought of becoming a person that could shoot lightning or withstand a hail of bullets was incredibly appealing to Chad, and he spent a large portion of his free time on building an 'alter ego' for his superhero persona. This persona would shift whenever he had a new idea for a superhero or thought of new power, with his current alias being the latest in a long line of these names. Chad's parents, however, were much less thrilled about heroes in general. Chad's father simply believed they were unnecessary, and should only serve as an elite force when faced with a Villain or Leftover immune to firearms. Chad's mother, however, believed all people with powers were a threat to the unpowered population - she advocated for several anti-hero groups and even had been planning to run for Mayor when the current term is over.
While neither parent was supportive of their son's hobby, they both wanted to help their child grow and develop his creativity. They were more concerned about his fascination with sports, which could very easily end with him getting injured. It took a few years of pleading before he was allowed to join his Highschool football team in his junior year. He rapidly rose his Highschool to prominence thanks to his speed as a Running Back, to the point that Chad had a full-ride football scholarship at UNCA, with his father promising to pay for lodging and other expenses that would arise as long as Chad actually tried to get a degree. Chad was very lucky.
In his senior year, Chad achieved a lifelong dream in the worst way possible. It was the final game of the season, and Chad was attempting to score a hat-trick to close his high school career. As he ran, he desperately tried to move as fast as possible and score, and the mixture of chemicals in his body and the cheering of fans caused something to awaken in him. He quickly passed the goalposts and didn't stop for nearly half a mile. At first, Chad was beyond ecstatic - he had developed Super Speed!
Chad would not be happy for very long. His scholarship was specifically for people without powers, so he lost it very fast. And while they tried to hide it, Chad could tell his parents acted differently towards him than they used to. They were careful and treated him like a time bomb, and the sense of comfort and familiarity that had been built over nearly two decades was gone. Chad tried to keep a positive demeanor and outlook, but one month after gaining powers, Chad's mother held a knife between her and Chad, terrified after he ran into the kitchen. Feeling betrayed, Chad immediately packed his things and left his home, dropping out of high school shortly after.
Chad relied on the mercy of his boss, Percy Porter. Porter allowed Chad to sleep in a backroom in exchange for very little money and a promise to ignore anything suspicious he saw in the restaurant. Chad has lived there ever since, spending most of his time training his abilities or searching for his biological parents.
Now, only a few weeks after leaving his parents, Chad is desperate to become a full-time Hero. With so much of his life falling apart, any way to get people to appreciate and respect him is worth following. He repurposed parts of his football gear and anything he could find at a thrift store into an impromptu costume, and he sought out the H.E.R.O organization.
Power: Like A Bullet Short Version: Chad is very fast. He also sucks at running.
Long Version: Chad might be one of the fastest Superhumans when it comes to raw speed, and not things like teleportation. He is capable of moving more than Mach 1 in short bursts, although this can really aggravate his weaknesses.
He achieves his incredible speeds because his power is really the "Conversion of Potential Energy" - if he was aware of this and decided to capitalize on it, he would be able to train and develop abilities like slowing people down (albeit at a massively less potent scale than someone like Winterfall), launching ball bearings like bullets with touch-based telekinesis, and even preventing objects from falling by stealing their Potential Energy, effectively creating a floating platform. It would also allow him to reach much faster speeds by siphoning potential energy from others.
It is unlikely he ever will, however, since he believes he only possesses Superhuman Speed and some minor side abilities. These side abilities include Heat Resistance and Durability that scale with his speed (He is usually durable enough to tough through friction burns and crashing into walls regardless of speed... usually).
Chad's weaknesses are proportional to his speed at any moment in time - he could move 100 mph with a relatively minor impact. He rarely compromises and goes this slow, however, despite the fact he would be far more effective if he moved this fast and used firearms or other forms of equipment.
Techniques SPECIAL SHOTS!: Rubber Bullet: A punch designed to nonlethally knock out opponents. Chad actually uses restraint with this one and tries to manage the power in relation to his opponent. Even with him purposefully trying to manage his speed, this ability can seriously injure a normal person if he hits them in the wrong location.
Ironically, this technique is more dangerous than some of Chad's others since he isn't as impacted by his weaknesses and is more likely to actually land it.
12 Guage: Similar to the Rubber Bullet technique in that it's a (relatively) light punch, the 12 Guage is a rapid burst of 12 punches rather than a single nonlethal punch. This can cause a lot of damage, especially if Chad is lucky and most of his blows actually connect, but Chad is usually stuck in place while performing it and can be attacked while punching.
9 mm: A quick punch, which Chad usually aims at the groin or liver. Faster than Rubber Bullets and more accurate than 12 Guage, this is Chad's go-to move against opponents that can survive Rubber Bullets. 9mm's have very few weaknesses, other than being very predictable.
.22 Caliber: The only kick Chad has, despite him thinking his power is running really fast. 22 Caliber is faster than a 9mm punch, but it also has additional force behind it due to being a kick rather than a punch. Chad most often uses it in order to trip opponents, and it is very effective at doing so.
.50 Caliber: When he has a straight shot to an enemy over a distance of around 1 mile, Chad is able to achieve his maximum speed of Mach 1 and punch them after 10 seconds of running blind. Considering he is a man weighing 210 pounds running at the speed of sound, this is usually strong enough to instantly defeat all but the most durable of opponents. Actually pulling it off is pretty much impossible, since it requires a mile-long shot that has no potholes and is relatively smooth, and he is effectively blind due to his power's weaknesses. Even landing the punch could seriously injure Chad's arm, possibly tearing it off entirely if he is fighting someone durable enough to survive the blow.
Blank Shot: Not a real technique that Chad has named, rather it is a term that has been coined by fans and detractors alike. Chad runs straight past the opponent, relying on his raw speed and temporary durability to escape as far as he can run. Chad is quick to lean on this ability when presented with even moderately difficult opponents, and will only avoid using it when people are in clear danger.
Weaknesses: Chad has several weaknesses - most of which are self-inflicted, whether from his mentality or his perception of his powers.
The primary weakness of Chad's power is his method of using it - his conversions of Potential Energy into Kinetic Energy for his speed places great stress on his brain and musculature. As Chad runs faster, he progressively loses his precision and senses. When moving at 100 mph he may no longer be able to smell, and his hearing might be somewhat weaker. At his maximum speed of Mach 1, he wouldn't be able to do anything more dextrous than forming a fist, and he would be blind, deaf, and barely feel the wind on his face or his feet hit the ground. This does come with immunity to sensory manipulation at high speeds, so... there's that. If Chad learned the nature of his power, he might one day learn how to lessen the effects of this weakness by performing less stressful conversions.
One of the problems H.E.R.O has with Chad is his inability to stop quickly. He either has to slow down over the course of several seconds or run into a wall to stop himself. In high-speed chases, Chad is surprisingly worthless unless it's on a highway or property damage is acceptable. Due to the pay cuts he receives because of this limitation, he has continued his job as a Pizza Delivery Boy.
Less a weakness and more of a limitation, Chad's speed is purely physical - he cannot react to things faster than a normal human, so a bullet is just as dangerous to him as it is for anyone else, and a surprise attack can quickly incapacitate him. This also makes it much easier for him to trip or fall than other speedsters.
A very situational weakness is his various 'Vulnerabilities.' Chad himself is unaware of why he is especially vulnerable to certain types of damage and powers, but it is usually because it directly interferes with his power over Potential Energy. These Vulnerabilities include: Gravity: Weightlessness can effectively render Chad powerless since he has no Potential Energy to draw on. On the flip side, he is just as fast when gravity is heavier, as long as he is strong enough to stand. Cold: Lower temperatures can cause Chad's molecules to rapidly slow down, and in turn heavily impact his speed. Even without slowing him down, cold temperatures can cause the ground to become slippery, which is especially dangerous to Chad when he is moving at high speeds. Heat: While moderate amounts of heat actually improve Chad's speed, very hot temperatures can forcefully activate his speed, resulting in him being unable to slow down. At high enough temperatures he may die from exhaustion from the constant running if he doesn't first die from the heat. This can be 'fixed' by simply not moving in the first place and waiting to cool down, but that generally makes someone an easy target.
While not a weakness of his power, Chad is incredibly poor at using his ability. Even with his misconception about the nature of his power, it is extremely rare for Chad to use any application of his abilities other than 'run away' or 'punch FASTER!' He would be able to warrant a B tier if he was willing to use firearms and move slower, but he refuses to do so since he believes it would be 'too lethal'.
Chad is very skilled at certain skills that are not traditionally seen as very masculine. This includes Sewing, Calligraphy, and Baking. He is also trying his hand at making poems, but he is average at best at that.
Starbright is easily Chad's favorite hero, due to his flashy abilities and personality. Chad owns several posters of the hero.
Chad does not like most animals. He adores children and babies, however.
Chad is proficient at Boxing, but he is not incredible at it. This is where his Highschool nickname 'CQC' comes from. He mostly relied on his impressive size and musculature to deal with opponents. Now he relies on his speed.
Chad adores public speaking but despises things that require knowledge since it makes him feel stupid. He was very quiet in classes and has never been in a spelling bee (despite being pretty good at spelling).
Porter's Pizza, the restaurant that Chad works and lives at, pays a very large amount of money to the Bratva gang for 'protection' on a monthly basis. Chad doesn't know this, but he does notice Percy is always more snappy on certain days of the month.
Blake pulled back the beer that he had offered to Alpha, popping off the top and guzzling it down himself. He looked on vacantly as Alpha spoke. "You worked with my dad? That's weird. He's, like, old and lame," Blake said, holding the bottle loosely in his hand. It was clear that Blake was only picking up bits and pieces of what Alpha was saying. As he finished, Blake nodded about 10 times. "Riiight, yeah, well, cool, nice to meet you, Alpaca...ANGIE!” Blake smiled drunkenly as she approached, tugging her arm and pulling her into a hug against his chest. ”I haven’t seen you all night, muffin! You look…” He squinted at her, recognizing that she looked a bit more disheveled than usual but not calling it out. ”...really stunning,” he ended up saying, his lopsided smile showing that his mind was definitely addled by the alcohol. ”You liking the party? Oooh, you know what we need, fireworks!" Blake called out spontaneously as he released her from his tight hug, making his way outdoors, his hand still wrapped firmly around hers as he guided her outside. The sky was now dark, a dark canvas adrift in the air, and Blake had now removed the fireworks. After waving them around, pointing them dangerously at a few people, he eventually managed to set them off (superpowers help), the rockets soaring into the night sky. A shower of multicolored lights danced through the sky as the neighbors and basically everybody on the block continued to launch the fireworks in celebration of the holidays.
Blake grinned as the light show sparkled midair. ”Woooo! America! Liberty! Freedom! Bald eagles! Mount Rushmore! Red, white, and blue! Patriotism! Democracy! Rednecks! Giant robots! Donuts! Obesity!” Blake continued to rant for a solid few minutes, rattling off every word that he could possibly associate with America. Grace stood by, watching Blake with an amused expression on her face. She occasionally glanced over to Tom guiltily, but she seemed to be trying very hard to ignore him and continue focusing on the drunken antics of Blake. Blake laughed loudly as he held a beer in one hand, putting an arm around a nearby hero’s shoulders. ”Yeahhhh! Fourth of July partyyyyy!” he shouted, tilting his head back and hooting.
The party went on into the night, with the booming music and drunken shenanigans moving onto just before midnight. It was around then that the fireworks began to slowly die off (though a few would sparkle in the night sky every so often), and the party-goers began to leave. Ubers began to pull up at the front of the house. Some of the party guests drove themselves home as well, something Blake would have definitely objected to if he was in a more reasonable state of mind. Grace was currently out back, staring into the treeline vacantly as the party continued on. Soon the masses had mostly trickled out, to the point where it was mostly just the group of friends and a few other stragglers remaining. It was just in time, as well, as it quite spontaneously began to rain heavily, droplets of water fluttering down from the sky that fireworks had just recently illuminated.
”Everybody inside,” Blake said, one arm around Angie’s waist and the other around a bottleneck, as he staggered indoors. Grace sighed, still remaining outdoors in the rain. The water soaking her clothes, she watched as everybody else migrated inside. She stood to walk over and join them when she noticed something. The entire house had quickly been filled with some type of orange gas, the air inside the building having turned a delicate shade of scarlet. She saw Blake passed out against a counter, Brie and William tangled on top of each other...this was bad. Very bad. Somebody wanted them dead. Cursing loudly in Korean, she began to run over towards the building. Her mind began to quickly formulate a strategy. Use her portals, suck out the gas, and then call for an ambulance or something. Easy. But before she could make her way over fully, she heard the sound of metal slicing and wheeled around.
Standing there in the rain was a man in a full set of Roman armor. He stood at about 6 or so feet tall, tall but not overwhelmingly so, his entire body covered in the steel armor that was currently being soaked in rain. In his hand, he held a gladius that was currently being pointed directly at Grace. ”Die,” he hissed, and the blade quickly shot towards Grace, lengthening as the tip speared towards her chest. Grace reacted just in time, a portal swirling in front of her torso and catching the sword. A moment later, the blade shot out the reverse way, lancing into the man’s armored chest with a loud clang. Violet energy swirled in her hands as Grace blasted him directly in the helmet, causing him to fall to the ground and into another hastily-opened portal. Grace then blasted him out towards the poolside, where he rolled to the ground. Grace strutted over confidently, violent energy swirling at her fingertips. ”Who the hell do you work for and what do you want from me?” She glanced over guiltily at the house again, quietly opening a portal in there to suck the gas out. They were already out cold, it seemed, but they weren’t dead- Grace had definitely seen one of their arms twitch a few times and one of them roll over. This was some type of set-up, one that Grace had managed to avoid just barely. Who knew how much moping outdoors would help?
Nero, who was currently on the ground near the pool edge, laughed confidently. ”My name is Nero...and attacking me was the worst mistake you could’ve made,” he said forebodingly, his eyes staring directly at her through the slit of his helmet.
”What do you mean? Who do you work for?” Grace commanded, the light at her fingertips glowing brighter, but her thoughts, along with her line of questioning, were quickly interrupted by a sudden movement in the pool. The pool water had begun to move, all of it, creeping out like it was alive and moving towards Grace. Grace quickly moved to portal away but was too late as the water, like some sort of beast, dove at her and wrapped around her body, forming a bubble that lifted her into the air. Grace’s shrill screaming was muffled from inside the giant bubble as a figure of a small woman began to approach. She was standing just under a foot shorter than Nero with smooth fair skin, dark hair, and a raincoat wrapped around her petite figure. Her hand was currently held out, like she was holding an orchestra at a particularly long fermata, before she eventually waved her hand, the water that held Grace splashing away and depositing the very much soaked young hero on the ground. Grace heaved a few times, gasping for air. The woman, of course the legendary Sea Serpent of the Wings of Law, reached down, grabbing Grace by her soaked hair and yanking her back. ”You should know I hate hair dye. So cheap,” she muttered in displeasure, ignorant to Grace’s plight, as she continued to roughly tug on her hair. After a particularly loud scream, she snapped her fingers and sent some chlorinated poolwater rushing into Grace’s mouth, her yelps cut out prematurely as she was very quickly choked out. Yama eventually released her, throwing her roughly down to the ground. Grace was heaving, certainly in no condition to fight back anymore.
”Make sure you get rid of her,” Sea Serpent said, looking down at the barely-conscious Korean. ”Can’t have her spoiling the fun. Stupid ICOSA agent...probably some sort of sleeper or something. Lucky we got rid of her,” Yama noted, looking down at her nails. Nero, who had gotten to his feet, nodded and slung Grace over his armored shoulder. ”Can do. I already have a plan for her, incidentally. Oh, this is going to be so perfect! I have all the gears set in motion...”
”Yeah, yeah, whatever, just make sure nobody leaves alive or anything. Oh! And make sure that when they die, it’s entertaining,” the Wing of Law added with particular glee. ”Especially that D-tier trash. What was her name? Angelina?,”
”Ah, you mean Wish.”
”More like Bitch. Stupid dumb broad...” Yama muttered condescendingly. ”Well, whatever you’re planning...make it good.”
Sea Serpent couldn’t possibly see, but underneath his helmet, Nero was smiling wildly. ”Oh, you had better believe it’s gonna be good.”
July 5th, 2033 Location Undetermined
”Holy fuck, my head…”
Those were the first words that Blake von Brandt uttered the next day as he awoke on a...stone floor?
Blake was currently having a pounding headache, and he very slowly and extremely confusedly registered his surroundings. He had expected to wake up, probably alone, in a bed in his parents’ house, with a killer hangover. Where he was, instead, was what appeared to be some sort of ancient temple. They were lying in the center of a marble (not stone) floor inside a beautiful interior of a building, with beautiful artwork decorating the walls and a golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A pleasant aroma of roses wafted through the air. The only thing that betrayed the Roman look was a large TV screen, currently off, that was hanging from the ceiling. Also, instead of waking up alone, he was surrounded by his friends. Angie was only a stone’s throw away from him, Tom was sprawled across the room, Brie and William were sitting elsewhere, everybody else all positioned haphazardly across the floor, except for Patricia, who was propped alone against the wall. The only thing that matched Blake’s expectations, really, was the pounding headache that was currently rattling on the interior of his skull. The strangeness of the situation, however, was able to rope him into some semblance of attention as he looked around at his awakening friends. ”The fuck is this? What the hell? Where are we?” he asked out loud, and he was answered by a clicking sound on the TV.
”Allow me to answer that question, Firebird.”
Onscreen, in some sort of elaborate bedroom bunker, was a man adorned in full Roman armor, staring directly at the screen. ”My name is Nero, the greatest Emperor of Rome, and you’ve been cordially invited to my Roman experience.” He chuckled. ”I’ve always been fascinated with ancient Rome and the glory of the Roman Republic. So, when I found an abandoned movie set for a Marcus Aurelius biopic, well, I knew this was my perfect hideout. Gorgeous set design, a large elaborate space, and of course, high walls to keep out prying eyes and keep in my new citizens.”
Blake’s eyes focused away from the screen out the entrance to see a beautiful Roman forum right outside this temple. Nero was certainly not wrong- incredible set design by the movie producers. His eyes flicked back to the screen as Nero spoke once again. ”Now, I’m sure you’re wondering…’Nero, surely we can just escape, fly out of your little mini-Rome!’” He spoke this latter part in a mocking tone, before laughing. ”Well, first off, I did install a few turrets to help keep my good citizens inside. But, of course, I’m sure some very brave, very strong heroes like yourselves could possibly escape. Which is why...” The camera panned over a few yards. ”I made sure to collect some insurance.”
Tied to the wall was the very unfortunate sight of Grace and Eliza, both still unconscious, and both restrained against a large metal rack located in Nero’s bunker. Grace looked worse off out of the two of them, a few bloody scrapes on her face and a couple rips in her clothes, compared to Eliza who was, for the most part, mostly unhurt, outside of a couple minor cuts that looked to be accidental. Looking down at their sickened smiles, Nero laughed. ”You can try to leave, of course, but if you do, I’ll have to pull a Julius Caesar on them.” Nero chuckled as his hand waved very near his sword hilt.
Blake blinked confusedly. ”What happened to Julius Caesar again?”
Nero glowered. ”Don’t they make you read the play in school?”
”Dude, I looked that shit up on SparkNotes. It was boring, and super weird.”
”It is not boring! It is a masterpiece! And he gets stabbed to death in it, you uncultured simpleton!”
”Oh,” Blake said, before the seriousness of the situation dawned on him. ”OH. OH, FUCK.”
”Of course, not all hope is lost. If you can find and defeat me, your friends will be saved. You will fail in your attempt, obviously, but no harm in giving you a sporting chance. I’m somewhere out in this splendid city of wonders! Best of luck. Oh, and I forgot to mention! Watch out for the ogres!” Nero called out, before giving an elaborate bow. ”Good luck. I’ll be watching, so when you do die, make sure it’s entertaining.” He laughed again before the video ended, the TV screen turning back to black.
Blake sat there, pondering for a few moments, lost in thought. This was bad. Really bad. He looked down at his hands, a flicker of fire running across them. At the very least, they had their powers. They would be helpful. ”I’m not sure what he’s going on about. The odor of this place is pretty nice,” Blake noted grumpily, standing and walking towards the exit of the temple. Outside was a beautiful, massive replica of ancient Rome, sprawling out across a large display of impressive arches and beautiful buildings. At the edge of the large replica of the city were a set of tall stone walls that were manned occasionally with automated turrets. Blake had no doubt that they could probably get out without too much difficulty, but of course, there were other pressing concerns at hand.
As Blake made his way out, he noticed a small cardboard package at the steps of the temple. He reached down, scooping it up and burning the exteriors to ashes. Inside was a laminated map of the city, with Nero’s signature and the words “Vivamus, Moriendum Est” inscribed on the bottom. Much to Blake’s chagrin, the map did not locate Nero, and even much more to his chagrin, it was all in Latin. He groaned as he read it.
”Alright, guys, I’m sure we can get them back. Easy,” Blake muttered, looking down at the map curiously. ”There’s a few locations on here that are jotted down in a big font...the ‘balineum,’ the ‘basilica,’ the ‘coliseum,’ and the ‘forum.’ Any ideas?” he asked, waving the map out in front of the bedraggled crew. ”Hey, this fucking sucks, but at least there’s only one of him and all of us,” he said optimistically, ignoring the fact that there were multiple skeletons laying out in the streets of the Rome replica. ”We’ll get Grace and Eliza back before that Nero motherfucker can quote one more dumb play. We’ve gotten out of worse before! This’ll be a walk in the park.”
In all fairness to the young fire hero, his malapropism was not far enough. In the distance, there was a foul odor of sweat and rotten eggs. Out a way’s away was a large gathering of massive, fleshy beasts, dripping with blood as they feasted upon what was once an influential businessman and what was now a half-eaten carcass. The massive group of ogres turned towards the general direction of Blake, before beginning to slowly but surely lumber in their direction.
[center][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/bf2nzzm1FFte0/giphy.gif[/img]
[h1]HITMAN[/h1]
"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝚈𝚎𝚜... 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑."
[/center]
[right][h3]Who I Am[/h3]
Just some scrub nerd who happens to RP on this site. While I tend to gravitate more towards building worlds and GMing and all that, I join RPs from time to time as well. I tend to stay in the casual section of the Guild (though I am open to trying other things) and my preferences tend to lean towards slice-of-life RPs and superhero RPs, along with the occasional fandom RP, depending. I enjoy trying new things, though, and I'm willing to hop onboard any genre if I find it appealing.
I consider myself fairly lax and friendly, so if you wanna chat, my PMs are always open. [/right]
[center][h3]Where I Am[/h3]
[u][b]Currently Running[/b][/u]
[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/181758-h-e-r-o/ooc]《H.E.R.O.》[/url]
[i]Fast-paced, fun, vibrant, quasi-anime superhero RP about an organization that employs superpowered people to defend the fictional city of Castleburg, USA.[/i]
[s][b][color=39b54a]Currently Accepting![/color][/b][/s] [color=fdc68a]PM me for details if you want to join.[/color]
[u][b]Currently Participating[/b][/u]
[i]n/a. Maybe it'll change? ;)[/i]
[/center]
[h3]Honors[/h3]
[quote=@canaryrose]
"He's a two-faced bastard of a GM."
[/quote]
[quote=@Danvers]
"He's American. Enough said"
[/quote]
[quote=@KaijuBaragon]
"He abuses us with lenny faces"
[/quote]
[i]Comment: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)[/i]
[quote=@rabidporcupine]
"He hates the gays"
[/quote]
[quote=@DClassified]
"Wait, since you're a hitman, can't you just scan the bar code on the back of your head and just bring your post back?"
[/quote]
[quote=@Hitman]
"I have never met a more horrible, selfish, ungrateful human than Hitman. I wish I didn't have to live inside his body 24/7 for the rest of my pathetic, meaningless existence."
[/quote]
[center]
老吾老，以及人之老；幼吾幼，以及人之幼
[/center]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://media.giphy.com/media/bf2nzzm1FFte0/giphy.gif" /><br><br><div class="bb-h1">HITMAN</div><br>"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝚈𝚎𝚜... 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑."</div><br><div class="bb-right"><div class="bb-h3">Who I Am</div><br>Just some scrub nerd who happens to RP on this site. While I tend to gravitate more towards building worlds and GMing and all that, I join RPs from time to time as well. I tend to stay in the casual section of the Guild (though I am open to trying other things) and my preferences tend to lean towards slice-of-life RPs and superhero RPs, along with the occasional fandom RP, depending. I enjoy trying new things, though, and I'm willing to hop onboard any genre if I find it appealing. <br><br>I consider myself fairly lax and friendly, so if you wanna chat, my PMs are always open.</div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><div class="bb-h3">Where I Am</div><br><br><span class="bb-u"><span class="bb-b">Currently Running</span></span><br><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/181758-h-e-r-o/ooc">《H.E.R.O.》</a><br><span class="bb-i">Fast-paced, fun, vibrant, quasi-anime superhero RP about an organization that employs superpowered people to defend the fictional city of Castleburg, USA.</span><br><span class="bb-s"><span class="bb-b"><font color="#39b54a">Currently Accepting!</font></span></span> <font color="#fdc68a">PM me for details if you want to join.</font><br><br><span class="bb-u"><span class="bb-b">Currently Participating</span></span><br><span class="bb-i">n/a. Maybe it'll change? ;)</span></div><br><div class="bb-h3">Honors</div><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"He's a two-faced bastard of a GM."<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/canaryrose">@canaryrose</a></footer></blockquote><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"He's American. Enough said"<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/danvers">@Danvers</a></footer></blockquote><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"He abuses us with lenny faces"<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/kaijubaragon">@KaijuBaragon</a></footer></blockquote><br><span class="bb-i">Comment: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</span><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"He hates the gays"<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/rabidporcupine">@rabidporcupine</a></footer></blockquote><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"Wait, since you're a hitman, can't you just scan the bar code on the back of your head and just bring your post back?"<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/dclassified">@DClassified</a></footer></blockquote><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"I have never met a more horrible, selfish, ungrateful human than Hitman. I wish I didn't have to live inside his body 24/7 for the rest of my pathetic, meaningless existence."<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/hitman">@Hitman</a></footer></blockquote><br><div class="bb-center">老吾老，以及人之老；幼吾幼，以及人之幼</div></div>
Member
Rabidporcupine
DarkRecon
sassy1085
