Polyphemus Member
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I was thinking Argus, the shipwright. I like the idea of an older man including himself on this quest.
Name: Tobias "Tobe" Dooley
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Alignment: Shade
Appearance: Tobe is a Caucasian male, a little bit on the short side at 5'6" with a faint reddish birthmark around his neck. Brown hair, brown eyes, nothing unremarkable in his build. His hairstyle is outdated, a 90s flop cut, combined with his delicate facial features he just looks a little bit ridiculous. He tries to dress nicely to compensate, but doesn't have much fashion sense. Overall, he's a type of guy who just seems pathetic and silly.
Personality: Outwardly, Tobe seems like a polite but awkward person, nice and accommodating to the point that his acquaintances consider him to be a complete doormat. Internally, however, he is extremely bitter and filled with loathing. Tobe's fondest wish, after so many years of being pushed around, is to be a respected somebody. If that respect is born of fear, so be it.
Power: Like most shades, Tobe is in peak human condition in virtually all areas. He can easily run a four-minute mile, tear a phone book in half, or stay up for days on end.
Weapons: Tobe frequently carries a Sharpfinger knife.
History: Born and raised in Fairlake, Tobe was an unremarkable child, with unexceptional grades in school and very few friends. People he knew regularly mocked him when he wasn't around, and occasionally when he was. Though he displayed some athletic talent, he never bothered to pursue it, instead caving to his father's insistence on going to community college and becoming a data-entry technician. Throughout his life, though, he has had dreams and odd random bits of memory. A violent war, brutal atrocities, a death by hanging. They seemed too consistent to be random, and in high school he began to seriously consider the possibility he may have been reincarnated. Adopting the subject as a sort of hobby and doing research in his spare time, he eventually learned of the existence of the Drunken Dragon, rumored to be a place where reincarnates gathered. Tobe ventured there a few times, and in doing so learned the order of things from some of the other patrons. However, Tobe rejected the idea of becoming a paladin and declined to return to the bar. To him, a life of selflessness seemed pointless and unrewarding- being a nice guy hadn't gotten him anywhere. Besides, what was the point of being reincarnated unless you were meant to repeat the same stuff? Tobe didn't see one, and is now trying to figure out exactly how to make himself a somebody.
Brief history of previous life:Tobe, in his previous life, was one Leon Timbo, a captain in the RUF during the Sierra Leone Civil War. Timbo was responsible for various atrocities- the use of slave laborers in RUF diamond mines, hacking the limbs from civilians, brainwashing and drugging children to be used as soldiers. Eventually, Timbo was cut off from his unit in an attack and stumbled into the hands of government troops, who gave him a show trial in a kangaroo court and then hanged him from the nearest tree. He was unmourned. The day of his death- June 12, 1992- is the day of Tobe's birth.
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Alignment: Shade
Appearance: Tobe is a Caucasian male, a little bit on the short side at 5'6" with a faint reddish birthmark around his neck. Brown hair, brown eyes, nothing unremarkable in his build. His hairstyle is outdated, a 90s flop cut, combined with his delicate facial features he just looks a little bit ridiculous. He tries to dress nicely to compensate, but doesn't have much fashion sense. Overall, he's a type of guy who just seems pathetic and silly.
Personality: Outwardly, Tobe seems like a polite but awkward person, nice and accommodating to the point that his acquaintances consider him to be a complete doormat. Internally, however, he is extremely bitter and filled with loathing. Tobe's fondest wish, after so many years of being pushed around, is to be a respected somebody. If that respect is born of fear, so be it.
Power: Like most shades, Tobe is in peak human condition in virtually all areas. He can easily run a four-minute mile, tear a phone book in half, or stay up for days on end.
Weapons: Tobe frequently carries a Sharpfinger knife.
History: Born and raised in Fairlake, Tobe was an unremarkable child, with unexceptional grades in school and very few friends. People he knew regularly mocked him when he wasn't around, and occasionally when he was. Though he displayed some athletic talent, he never bothered to pursue it, instead caving to his father's insistence on going to community college and becoming a data-entry technician. Throughout his life, though, he has had dreams and odd random bits of memory. A violent war, brutal atrocities, a death by hanging. They seemed too consistent to be random, and in high school he began to seriously consider the possibility he may have been reincarnated. Adopting the subject as a sort of hobby and doing research in his spare time, he eventually learned of the existence of the Drunken Dragon, rumored to be a place where reincarnates gathered. Tobe ventured there a few times, and in doing so learned the order of things from some of the other patrons. However, Tobe rejected the idea of becoming a paladin and declined to return to the bar. To him, a life of selflessness seemed pointless and unrewarding- being a nice guy hadn't gotten him anywhere. Besides, what was the point of being reincarnated unless you were meant to repeat the same stuff? Tobe didn't see one, and is now trying to figure out exactly how to make himself a somebody.
Brief history of previous life:Tobe, in his previous life, was one Leon Timbo, a captain in the RUF during the Sierra Leone Civil War. Timbo was responsible for various atrocities- the use of slave laborers in RUF diamond mines, hacking the limbs from civilians, brainwashing and drugging children to be used as soldiers. Eventually, Timbo was cut off from his unit in an attack and stumbled into the hands of government troops, who gave him a show trial in a kangaroo court and then hanged him from the nearest tree. He was unmourned. The day of his death- June 12, 1992- is the day of Tobe's birth.
That'd be fine with me, or I could take care of him tonight. Whichever works.
I'm alright, just don't want to overshadow anyone.
I hope this doesn't sound rude, but that's a picture of New York City, not Philadelphia.
Say whaaaat? I'm all about this. The Argonauts were like the original Avengers, Greece's best heroes assembled for a mighty task. I love it.
In
I have a premise, but need some help developing a plot
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12 yrs ago
Forum: General Interest Checks
I like the idea a lot.
As for a plot, it seems the paladin community is pretty tight-knit. Maybe someone is targeting them, systematically killing them off, that sort of thing?
As for a plot, it seems the paladin community is pretty tight-knit. Maybe someone is targeting them, systematically killing them off, that sort of thing?
Ken Stevenson was sweating heavily. DC in summer. The smooth wooden grip of the baseball bat felt slick in his palm. However, he made no attempt to remove his suit jacket, or even loosen his necktie. That would not do. He was not going to go around looking like a disheveled idiot. That would mean they had won.
He had felt a pang of dismay as he watched the last evacuation helicopters leaving, and kicked himself for deciding to shut himself in with Maddie for a weekend, mindlessly fucking, the television and phones turned off. Otherwise, Ken might have gotten to the rally point for Congressmen. He'd be safely out of the city by now, on his way to. . . somewhere. Ken didn't really know where, the orientation packets he had received on his first day in office had been a little vague on that point.
Still, he was a smart man. Ken knew that any halfway decent continuity of government scheme would give him a free pass into secure confines- any elected figure would be valuable in restoring order. The trick would just be reaching somewhere safe. Miranda was back in Louisville, Maddie had decided to take her chances in the city. He had come alone. But he was not alone. Looking over the group of disappointed would-be refugees, he picked out a few that actually looked physically fit enough to help in a fight, against looters or crazies or whatever those things he kept hearing about were.
"Alright, everybody listen up!" he said loudly. He did not yell. That would be undignified, put people on the defensive. He merely spoke very loudly. "Those helicopters are not coming back. We're going to have to find our own way. I'm heading south, to either Fort McNair or the Navy Yard. It's not far, only around two miles. Anybody who wants to accompany me is more than welcome. I serve in Congress, if anyone decides to come along I will see to it that the soldiers or sailors grant you shelter." Confident that he had their attention, he smiled reassuringly at the crowd, waiting to see if anyone would take him up on his offer.
He had felt a pang of dismay as he watched the last evacuation helicopters leaving, and kicked himself for deciding to shut himself in with Maddie for a weekend, mindlessly fucking, the television and phones turned off. Otherwise, Ken might have gotten to the rally point for Congressmen. He'd be safely out of the city by now, on his way to. . . somewhere. Ken didn't really know where, the orientation packets he had received on his first day in office had been a little vague on that point.
Still, he was a smart man. Ken knew that any halfway decent continuity of government scheme would give him a free pass into secure confines- any elected figure would be valuable in restoring order. The trick would just be reaching somewhere safe. Miranda was back in Louisville, Maddie had decided to take her chances in the city. He had come alone. But he was not alone. Looking over the group of disappointed would-be refugees, he picked out a few that actually looked physically fit enough to help in a fight, against looters or crazies or whatever those things he kept hearing about were.
"Alright, everybody listen up!" he said loudly. He did not yell. That would be undignified, put people on the defensive. He merely spoke very loudly. "Those helicopters are not coming back. We're going to have to find our own way. I'm heading south, to either Fort McNair or the Navy Yard. It's not far, only around two miles. Anybody who wants to accompany me is more than welcome. I serve in Congress, if anyone decides to come along I will see to it that the soldiers or sailors grant you shelter." Confident that he had their attention, he smiled reassuringly at the crowd, waiting to see if anyone would take him up on his offer.
I'll try to get through my writer's block and get a post up later today.
BlackSam3091 said
To try and stop Boomer I could have Volt hit him with a surge, that's if Wenchang or The Spirit of Saint Lewis doesn't have any other ideas.
Sonja could try to teleport him to somewhere he'd do less damage before he detonates. However, I feel like I've been kinda hogging the spotlight throughout this fight and I want Volt and Wenchang to have a chance to shine, so I'll only do that if no other plan comes forward.
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