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@Awesomoman64 We'd love to have you, just send me a PM with a character sheet at any time. Unfortunately, Wehner's kinda disappeared on us so it's just been Virani and myself.
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FallenTrinity
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9 yrs ago
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Birds > Wolves
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10 yrs ago
Someone remind me to stop staying up into the next day. I'm way too tired to function as I write this.
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Bio
Hello people of this website! I'm a dude, I just really enjoy playing female characters, don't ask why 'cause I don't know. I'm something of a die hard Mass Effect fan, and that's about it.
Most Recent Posts
Jace woke up at the sound of the trumpets, groaning as his ear drums were pierced for probably the four-hundredth time he'd been at Miss. Dawson's Home for the Truly Gifted, and got up. He looked down at his arm as he stood and shook his head, his skin had taken on a charcoal-colored, scaly texture again. "Ugh, the snake dream again, great." He quickly dispelled the mimicry of a snake his body had attempted while he was dreaming, used to the strange transformations by now.
He started his day like any other, raiding his closet for a presentable suit first and then getting dressed as Gallus awoke on his perch, also known as the bed's headboard. "'Morning, Jace." The parrot began.
Jace acknowledged the bird a moment later as he buttoned up his shirt. "'Mornin'." A simple statement, yes, but it got the point across. A nearly-botched surgery the previous day meant he was working the bar tonight, and left him in no mood for idle chit-chat today. He thought it pointless, he couldn't legally serve alcohol, so he was restricted to handing out hastily made sandwiches and the rare soft drink in the evening rush. Worst of all, it was a Friday. If you messed up in a huge way or put someone's life at risk, there were few punishments more severe than the graveyard shift at the bar on a Friday.
He made his way down to the mall with Gallus on his shoulder, looking as if he'd just fallen asleep as the trumpets had gone off.
Aaron woke grumpily to the sweet sound of trumpets blaring over a loudspeaker. "Oh piss off, dammit!" He rolled onto his side, covering his head with a pillow, and decided around five minutes later he couldn't fall back asleep, despite the comfortable bed and fluffy pillows that surrounded him. He might have a significantly better life than he had just a few weeks ago, but this place was a cage. A gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless. So he got out of bed, a couple sparks of electricity jumping between his fingertips. Nerves waking back up, he concluded, as he had managed to fall asleep on his hand.
The made his way to his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans, some socks and a t-shirt, and got dressed as if an unwanted guest was in the room, having just caught him in his underwear. He'd met most of the other freaks but still hadn't been given a job to do for some reason. Maybe it was his mischievous nature that had kept any administrator from approaching him with a task, but he didn't care. The longer he could get away with doing absolutely nothing, the better.
He headed out of the apartment complex and down to the mall, wondering if he could get away with eating a sausage within striking range of Artemis... not his greatest idea, but he could defend himself if something happened. Plenty of tigers had been struck by lightning by pure coincidence before, right? ...Right?
He started his day like any other, raiding his closet for a presentable suit first and then getting dressed as Gallus awoke on his perch, also known as the bed's headboard. "'Morning, Jace." The parrot began.
Jace acknowledged the bird a moment later as he buttoned up his shirt. "'Mornin'." A simple statement, yes, but it got the point across. A nearly-botched surgery the previous day meant he was working the bar tonight, and left him in no mood for idle chit-chat today. He thought it pointless, he couldn't legally serve alcohol, so he was restricted to handing out hastily made sandwiches and the rare soft drink in the evening rush. Worst of all, it was a Friday. If you messed up in a huge way or put someone's life at risk, there were few punishments more severe than the graveyard shift at the bar on a Friday.
He made his way down to the mall with Gallus on his shoulder, looking as if he'd just fallen asleep as the trumpets had gone off.
Aaron woke grumpily to the sweet sound of trumpets blaring over a loudspeaker. "Oh piss off, dammit!" He rolled onto his side, covering his head with a pillow, and decided around five minutes later he couldn't fall back asleep, despite the comfortable bed and fluffy pillows that surrounded him. He might have a significantly better life than he had just a few weeks ago, but this place was a cage. A gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless. So he got out of bed, a couple sparks of electricity jumping between his fingertips. Nerves waking back up, he concluded, as he had managed to fall asleep on his hand.
The made his way to his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans, some socks and a t-shirt, and got dressed as if an unwanted guest was in the room, having just caught him in his underwear. He'd met most of the other freaks but still hadn't been given a job to do for some reason. Maybe it was his mischievous nature that had kept any administrator from approaching him with a task, but he didn't care. The longer he could get away with doing absolutely nothing, the better.
He headed out of the apartment complex and down to the mall, wondering if he could get away with eating a sausage within striking range of Artemis... not his greatest idea, but he could defend himself if something happened. Plenty of tigers had been struck by lightning by pure coincidence before, right? ...Right?
@Madame Kitten Try a cough drop, I guess?
Jace "Spades" O'Shea
Age: 16
Power: Mimicry
A true Jack of all Trades, but master of none.
Weapons: 21 razor-rimmed Ace-of-Spades playing cards, blackthorn shillelagh.
Bio: Jace lived a good, lucky life. Irish through and through, and born in the heart of Dublin, he could be considered one of the luckiest people alive. He bluffed his way through school perfectly, his teachers never even bothering to check the work he never did. Until his thirteenth birthday, his luck held out. It ended abruptly, at 7:07pm, March 7th, the exact moment of his birth, all those years ago. His mimicry abilities, once hibernating inside him, woke. The first thing he copied was, unfortunately for him, a king cobra while his mother was beside him, watching a nature documentary about snakes. He grew fangs, his skin became scaly, and his pupils narrowed. Miss. Dawson was called and Jace was deported. At first, he was always angry, refusing to conform to anything. He mellowed out over the years, but continues to dream of his freedom... he's also a sucker for romance.
Dreams/Wishes: Freedom (obviously), an intimate relationship
Good/Evil/Walking the Line: Neutral Good. Bound by the Hippocratic Oath, Jace is morally obligated to help those in need, whether they align peacefully or chaotically. He's a bit of a klutz sometimes, though.
Siblings: 3 older sisters, 1 younger brother.
Pets: A parrot named Gallus.
Name: Aaron Fletcher
Age: 17
Powers: Electrokinesis, total immunity to electric shocks
Electrokinesis, also called fulgurkinesis, electromagnetism, and lightening control, is simply the ability to manipulate electricity. Side effects of this power typically include hyper activeness, static electricity build-up, an inability to rest, and being periodically struck by lightning.
Weapons: Several folding knives, including an ivory and stainless steel spring-loaded switchblade, and his Electokinesis abilities.
Bio: Aaron Fletcher, mother a stripper in her last year of college and father a drunk frat boy, neither of whom cared about him, grew up on the streets in a bad neighborhood somewhere in New England. He went between foster homes for most of his childhood, several of which were barely better than where he came from and let him do whatever he wanted. Therefore, he performed poorly in school and had very few friends, one of which dared him to go into a power station through a hole in the fence when they were seven. Once inside, he wandered and nudged an exposed wire through a hole in his pants. For most, this would be a premature death, nearly 30,000 volts of raw, unfiltered electricity tearing through your body with nowhere to go.
For Aaron, it was an awakening, the moment he realized that the most dangerous thing he knew of couldn’t kill him. He felt truly alive for the first time, and started doing stupid things that would get others killed for money. He’d shock himself with jumper cables and car batteries for $15, drop various household items into pools for $30, and would stand in thunderstorms with an umbrella for $100. Moral of the story, he made a lot of money during the humid summers. With a little kleptomania in his personality coupled with the fact that he was a fantastic liar, he could afford to buy a small house and pay off the mortgage immediately at thirteen.
Somehow, he managed to unknowingly avoid both the United States government and Miss Dawson until his 17th birthday, the former getting him first. The façade he settled on involved him being falsely detained for no good reason, and it worked for a while. Once it failed a few times among several ace interrogators, he was employed by the CIA to work alongside the janitors that handled the electrical systems for a brief time, around three months, and was given a handler that was connected to Miss Dawson. He was handed over to the Home after short-circuiting the Capitol Building and part of the Pentagon for the third time, which was very recently. He's been at the Home for roughly two weeks, now.
Somewhere along the line, Fletcher became a bit of a narcissist and constantly fusses over his appearance. Much of the time he can be seen wearing a scarf, despite the weather.
Dreams/Wishes: To become rich, and maybe take someone along for the ride.*
Good/Evil/Walking the Line: Chaotic Neutral. A true mischief-lover, Aaron will participate in anything that could potentially irk someone, despite the danger he might place himself in.
Siblings: N/A
Pets: None
*He comes across as arrogant, but he softens up to someone who gives him a chance.
Name: Zinnia Afra
Age: 21
Powers: Psammokinesis
In short, the ability to manipulate sand. The energy drained directly correlates to how much sand is moved, shaped, or hardened at once. A small amount draws virtually no energy, while a much larger amount can be extremely taxing.
Weapons: One katar, one punch-dagger.
Bio: Born on a February 14th in Istanbul, Turkey, Zinnia Afra was born the descendant of one of the Sultans of the Ottoman Empire. Therefore, she lived in a grand palace, surrounded by the finest jewels and softest pillows... and she hated it the moment she turned seven. The fairy-tale-princess lifestyle wasn't for her, to put it simply.
She realized that she craved the adventure and struggle of the commoner at age ten, and began to train with punch-daggers and katars. Weapons that were centuries old, but ranked among the most effective and most deadly to date, a well-aimed slice or stab could sever a limb or puncture an artery. She was ambidextrous, and would make it known with her fighting style. It was a brutal and savage form of attack and defense, but had a certain melody to it, as if each swipe and thrust could be timed to the beat of her own heart, which it could.
At thirteen, Zinnia would start playing games with the guards. In other words, she began to sneak out at night to meet with the shady friends she had made earlier in life, mostly ruffians and pickpockets, no one who meant any real harm to anyone. She'd partake in the action, learning the dishonorable ways of the modern thief in the rundown slums of Istanbul, but would always be back by midnight, just as the aforementioned guards showed up with her parents in tow, claiming to have seen her missing earlier in the night.
A year later, she was caught in the dead of night with her hand in someone's pocket, and a fight started. It was Zinnia's band of misfit, mischievous teenagers versus a group of actual adults. It went bad from the start, and soon enough, Zinnia was the only one left standing. She was surrounded by the adults, scared for her life and her weapons out of reach. A thin wisp of sand rose from the ground and started to follow the movements of her fingers in response to her fear. She lashed out, and each man was lying on the ground, bones broken and wills shattered. She helped her friends up and went home, taking a small amount of sand with her.
Until she was twenty, she practiced her newfound talent, then was walked in on by her younger brother while she worked, a small, brown lizard of minerals playing with the family's bearded dragon, Teif. The brother called the local police, and Zinnia was apprehended on suspicion of witchcraft. Superstitious societies...
She was supposed to be executed outside the city, but Miss. Dawson was quick to intervene. Zinnia was given her life and a place to stay, but at a cost; she couldn't leave. She brought Teif with her, as a reminder of what life once was, but has otherwise disowned her heritage. Zinnia has been at the Home for around a week now.
Dreams/Wishes: She simply wants to live her life without fear of being killed for her powers.
Good/Evil/Walking the Line: Chaotic Good. She does her best to be good, but slips occasionally because of her former friends back home.
Siblings: One younger brother
Pets: A bearded dragon named Tief.
I don't really mind.
It's so quiet...
*Lurks in wait for Hex's approval*
Taking place between the Geth invasion of Eden Prime to the destruction/domination of the Reapers, the Shepard was the hero of the story, helping those in need and putting an end to the threat of the Geth, Collectors, and the Reapers. But he was the one in the limelight for too long. The stories of the soldiers fell on deaf ears until now, an uncounted number of years since the galaxy was saved.
You'll control your own characters in your own way, and bring about the true story of Mass Effect, the story that was glossed over by the narrator...
Feel free to send me a PM with a CS, I'm not gonna place too much value on long posts, medium-length and the occasional short posts are perfectly fine. The group already exists, so here's the link to it!
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/85740-mass-effect-stories-of-the-soldiers/ic
You'll control your own characters in your own way, and bring about the true story of Mass Effect, the story that was glossed over by the narrator...
Feel free to send me a PM with a CS, I'm not gonna place too much value on long posts, medium-length and the occasional short posts are perfectly fine. The group already exists, so here's the link to it!
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/85740-mass-effect-stories-of-the-soldiers/ic
@Madame Kitten Sleep well, Kitten. Sleep well...
Also, made a thing.
Also, made a thing.
Gallus perched himself on a branch of the cherry blossom tree and looked out over the lake. He planned for a long, uninterrupted nap in such beautiful scenery... but with the people that he was with, that was very unlikely to actually happen.
Aaron groaned. He was effectively lost in Narnia now, no idea where anything is at any given time. So he walked towards the large body of water that was the lake, hoping to find someone worth sitting down with. He doubted that last bit, but his years on the street have taught him one thing: In life, anything is possible. It's just how likely it is to happen that matters.
Upon his arrival to the lake, he spotted a small, brightly dressed girl sipping something out of a teacup... Well, time to mess with that, a little mischief never hurt anyone. Except maybe that one guy that tried to stab him, but that's beside the point.
Jace left for the lake, his feelings still festering inside of him. But what could be done? As lucky as he was, on paper at least, he'd have a decent shot at romance. In practice, he came across as a doddering fool with a speech impediment. He'd have to work on that last part, he decided.
He somehow made it without knocking anything over, and set up a spot for himself a little east of the cherry blossom tree, out of a direct line of sight. With the giant umbrella he was toting, however, he was pretty sure he'd be noticed.
Aaron groaned. He was effectively lost in Narnia now, no idea where anything is at any given time. So he walked towards the large body of water that was the lake, hoping to find someone worth sitting down with. He doubted that last bit, but his years on the street have taught him one thing: In life, anything is possible. It's just how likely it is to happen that matters.
Upon his arrival to the lake, he spotted a small, brightly dressed girl sipping something out of a teacup... Well, time to mess with that, a little mischief never hurt anyone. Except maybe that one guy that tried to stab him, but that's beside the point.
Jace left for the lake, his feelings still festering inside of him. But what could be done? As lucky as he was, on paper at least, he'd have a decent shot at romance. In practice, he came across as a doddering fool with a speech impediment. He'd have to work on that last part, he decided.
He somehow made it without knocking anything over, and set up a spot for himself a little east of the cherry blossom tree, out of a direct line of sight. With the giant umbrella he was toting, however, he was pretty sure he'd be noticed.
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