Pathfinder

Animal Instincts (recruiting!)

Name: Thresh

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Appearance

Hybrid Animal: Nile Crocodile, 90%

Abilities:
-Strength, Thresh is able to bend iron with great effort.
-Tough Hide, his skin can block most weapons fire but his chest and stomach aren't as durable.
-Lack of Pain, due to his rough skin and general reptilian body, Thresh cannot feel pain.
-Breath Deep, can hold his breath for two hours.
-Great swimmer, can swim at speeds up to 30 mph for hours
-Smell, smells good

History: Thresh never knew much, having been taken into the program when he was just five years old didn't let him grow all that much intellectually. In fact he has forgotten his old name and didn't even give himself one, the locals did. When the project was canceled he was taken to the deep swamps of New Orleans before he "escaped" his handlers shortly on arrival. He spent his days surviving in the swamps, fighting for territorial dominance in his little slice of land, all alligators were fought off and Thresh was on his own.

When the reclamation began Thresh was highly resistant to their efforts. He had become to used to solitude and the very back of his mind still held onto the memories of pain, fear, and anger towards these strange men. It took time, effort, and many tranquilizers but eventually he was taken back and evaluated.

His time alone had made him semi-feral, most of his early childhood was forgotten and his records before his changes were destroyed in the purge. Whoever Thresh was before would never be found out.

Unfortunately for the staff, Thresh holds a great deal of suspicion towards the normal people, especially towards scientists. Thresh is illiterate.

Secretly Super

Name: Jordan Knight

Age: 25

Power: Champion of Anubis
Super Strength- Can easily overturn large trucks
Durability: Small arms fire will not harm him
Locust/Scarab Manipulation: Jordan can bend the actions if locusts and scarabs to his will
Feel No Pain: In fact, its hard for Jason to feel anything now days.
Judgment: Jordan can see into the hearts of mankind and truly judge their worth

Appearance: Jordan is a tall man, nearly 6'2 and broad. The bandages cover his body from head to toe while concealing his muscular frame. Taking a peek under the bandages you will see alabaster skin, deathly pale however he can only move the bandages aside for a moment before they snap back in place. Jordan's usual attire consists of a black trench coat, worn in jeans, and a sturdy pair of working boots.

Bio: Jordan was never someone special. He barely squeezed past highschool, never sought out higher education, and his only avenue for success was boxing which was destroyed after someone broke his Han in a bar brawl. With nothing going for him, Jordan began to take odd jobs and lived in his truck. It wasn't until he tried to end his worthless life did it really begin.

You see, his uncle was an archeologists and occultist both. Traveling to ancient ruins in an effort to unlock all of their secrets both magical and mundane. As it turned out the Knight family is highly involved in ancient secrets, old magic, and dark rituals. In his travels he found a jeweled scarab in Egypt with hieroglyphs ancient beyond measure but one thing was clear, it had something to do with death.

Having exhausting every other option he he had sent the scarab to his only living relative as a bauble several months earlier. Jordan had kept it wrapped in a leather string around his rear view mirror and as he OD'd on sleeping pills the scarabs hidden magic awoke. The whole area darkened as the scarab radiated darkness, not light, as his soul was dragged back into his his body.

Only one word was etched into his mind as he slept, Judgement.

Secretly Super

I'm in.

Animal Instincts (interest check)

Is there any big limits to animals?

Animal Instincts (interest check)

Same as above, the idea is interesting and I'll be keeping an eye on this.

The Lamentaion of Corillia (Warhammer 40k space marine RP)

The grand cathedral had been abuzz with energy since the Lamenters had landed. Of course that is always the case when the Astartes arrive at worlds like this but when it had become clear that not all would be able to be evacuated in time it sent many into a panic. The Ecclesiarchy did its part in cowing the masses but the damage had been done, many of the citizens were despondent and hopeless. However a great deal became emboldened, refusing to roll over and die on their backs. These volunteer soldiers did whatever they could to aid the PDF, gave up their vehicles, dug trenches, extended their skills be them medical, engineering, or labor, and promised to aid personally in the coming battle. The last vow will be tested soon enough but as it stood they had the fire of Guardsman in their hearts and that is all that the Emperor requires of them.

Deep within the grand cathedral sat Petra Tantillus, Chaplain of The Lamenters. The abandonment of his fellow Astartes had set him into a deep melancholy, how simple superstition could one from their duty was beyond him. The room was as quiet as the grave, having finished sanctification of his arms and armor long ago. All that was left for the Chaplain was his thoughts. The coming battle was going to be hard fought, terrible, and with little glory. Petra could feel it in the very core of his being, it was if the Emperor himself had gifted him with the grim intuition. In the end it mattered not, resolving himself Petra began the process of arming himself. Each piece of armor was treated with the outmost care as it was put into place, with every plate came a litany and a promise. Eventually all that remained was the Skull Helm, a symbol of mortality and the Emperor's great sacrifice during the Hearsay. With a last hymn he placed it upon his helm and left the confines of his dark quarters.

The sky was heavy, much like the mood of many of his brothers. The Lamenters may be free of the Red Thirst but in its place was left a deep melancholy that could easily trap one from their duty. From the alcove normally reserved for the priests of the Ecclesiarchy Petra gazed upon his brothers. To a normal man they worked with speed and efficiency beyond what they could manage, but he knew. They were hurting, the abandonment of the Mortificators had been a large blow to morale and it would destroy them. With the assistance of a Servitor Petra was patched into the Vox speakers, spreading his message throughout the Cathedral.

"Brother Marines, the great enemy is at our doorstep. They would try to take, drag it into the Warp where their foul sorceries would corrupt the very ground we tread. I say no. They will not have this planet. The Mortificators have abandoned not only us but their duty as Space Marines, this dishonor will stain them until the end of time but it will not ruin us. We stayed while others ran, the 9th Crusade will not find a world they can raze for their dark gods. They will find the might of the Imperium, the fires of our hearts, the bight of our blades, and the fury of our blades! My brothers, the Emperor is with us this day, for all days, we will send these Heretics screaming back to the Warp for Holy Terra, for the Primarch, and For the Emperor!"

There was no outcry from the marines, no great hurrah, but the morale was restored and the melancholy banished. With a stoic gaze Petra appraised the marines before him and was filled with pride. Turning away he marched out in search of the Tech-Marine Ferrum Unguis, he would need his overseeing of sanctifying what little they had against chaos.

Bioshock - Left Behind (re-vamped)

Name: Octavian "The Doc" Richardson

Age: 37

Occupation: Was once, and still considers himself, a doctor before everything hit the fan.

Weapons: Bone saw, Revolver, and various hypodermic needles filled with sedatives

Abilities / Plasmids: While not all there, The Doc IS still a medical doctor and surgeon. He has the fully upgraded Electro Bolt plasmid.

Brief Bio: Once upon a time Octavian was a man of respect, of renown, of power. However he was always worried about the "little people" and their health for they were such fragile things. Every patient under his care was dealt with compassion and care many didn't see in this city, all the while with every breath they stoked his ego for it was HIM who had saved them, Octavian and not those other hacks. Things changed however when a patient died on the operating table, something that broke the man in many ways. His reputation crumbled, his money was turned to booze, and he spiraled down into a deep depression. When everything came crashing down Octavian found new purpose, he would help the "Little People" again even if that meant ending them all.

Other:
-While more lucid than the average Splicer he is still manic fits and depressive slumps
-Considers himself a coward despite all that he does
-Has a slight alcohol problem, not that he would admit it
-Kills those he can't save
-The Doc has a great fondness for Little Sisters and while the call for Adam is slowly scratching at the back of his mind he is loath to harm them. Instead he waits for others to do harm and finishes them himself.

Bioshock - Left Behind (re-vamped)

@Myst
Apologies on my part, I hadn't read the very bottom of the hider. Truth be told I've encountered this form of posting before in a super hero RP about a year ago. I honestly didn't give it much thought but as a whole it was pretty convenient.

The Lamentaion of Corillia (Warhammer 40k space marine RP)

Awesome! I can't wait.

Strangeland | Legends Never Die

Hey guys, I'm afraid I'm going to have to back out of here. I've lost the spark for my character and since I haven't posted for him I might as well get out while I'm ahead. Good luck and have fun.