Polyphemus

Closed

Karate Bastard scowled as he took in the other inmates that were being released. A sniveling woman, some alien thing, another woman who seemed more than capable with her own hands, a woman who had the gall to tell him what to do, others who didn't interest him. Superpowers. They brassed him off. Keith had spent twenty years in hard work developing his abilities, these freaks simply had power handed to them by a quirk of genetics.

He grew even more surly as they eliminated the first handful of guards before he had enough time to adjust to his new surroundings. However, his frown split into a wide grin as more guards began to drop from the ceiling and advance menacingly on him. Finally, a fight worth having. KB remembered his instructions well enough- he had to rattle his dags over to the shaft and move on up. A cracker of a plan. But in his view, it had been too long since he had a right proper punch-up, wouldn't hurt to shake off the rust.

The first of the guard robots lunged at him, glinting purplish in the red emergency lights. Karate Bastard leaped into the air, turning a complete somersault over the head of the guard, landing gracefully behind it. KB took a split second to assume the stance of the dambe boxers of Nigeria, before throwing one of the precise, powerful punches of that particular discipline. A high-pitched and overlong kiai emerged from his lips as his fist tore through the guard's back and emerged from the robot's chest. The robot was unable to feel pain, of course, as KB withdrew his fist from the hole it still turned and attempted to fight him, weakly and slowly swinging a fist. KB smiled in glee as he smashed the palms of both hands simultaneously into the sides of the robot's head- the telefon, to a capoeirista. The metal head collapsed inwards in a shower of sparks, crushed like an empty soda can, as the guard fell to the floor with a resounding clang.

Karate Bastard suddenly felt the cold arms of another guard coming to embrace him from behind, wrapping around him in a bear hug with the intent of physically dragging him back to his cell. Unlikely. "Bit of a dag, aren't ya, mate?" he asked the robot as he grabbed the wrists of both arms and threw himself forwards into yet another largely unnecessary tuck-and-roll. The robot's steel arms tore easily from the sockets, leaving the guard helpless as KB pirouetted and began a vicious escrima two-stick routine on the robot with its own arms. KB was almost disappointed by the small amount of abuse it endured before falling down. "Piece of piss," he commented to no one in particular. "Too bloody easy."

It had been a fun little workout, but KB realized this was the time to make some tracks. Alarms were ringing, which he recalled from the orientation meant floors were being flooded. KB had no intention of drowning.

He stopped only long enough to retrieve his lost shirt. Not to wear, of course, but to quickly tear it into several small strips and wind them together into a serviceable rope. He tied one end to each of the wrists of the severed robot arms, then gave the weapon a few experimental twirls. It would do.

Tucking his improvised nunchaku under his arm, KB ran towards the shaft, where several of the other escaped inmates were already making their way topsides. Some of them might make convenient allies, at least for as long as it took to get out of this prison. Might not be a bad idea to stick close for the time being. Leaping in, he felt the wind whisk him upwards, towards yet another fight.

Things were looking up, for sure.

Closed

"Fucking drongos," another voice said as the door slowly creaked open. Karate Bastard had hardly noticed his months in incarceration, spending the majority of his time in meditation. The collars and bracelets they had slapped on him weighed him down, prevented him from exercising and feeling the full benefits of the power within him. But KB had not been unprepared for his escape. Up until now, his plan had been to wait for a human guard, then rip off the man's face and wear it as a mask in order to fool security and make good his departure.

But an outside agency busting him out? Not quite as dramatic, but it would do. He'd hate to think he was accepting charity, but at the same time, "never look a gift horse in the mouth." A phrase Hiram Walker had been fond of. The man in Texas who had taught him how to fight with a Bowie knife, before Keith took the liberty of crushing his skull. Good times.

As the nullifiers failed, KB felt strength surging back into his limbs. Bloody hardout, that was. Time to get back in the swing of things, no two ways about it. Without a second to lose, Karate Bastard ripped the orange top of his prison jumpsuit away, exposing his well-formed physique to the chill air of the underwater prison as he lurched forwards into the hallway.

The normal silence of the prison block corridor was shattered by the sounds of Keith's extended kata as he prepared himself for battle. Part elaborate gymnastics, part calisthenics, part slapping his own elbows and knees, mostly a lot of high-pitched screaming, KB worked out the kinks before assuming a combat stance. "Right, mates, let's fucking do this!" he yelled to mostly empty air.

Closed

NPC: Justin Xaxx

Appearance:
Name: Justin Xaxx
Alias: None
Age: 742
Gender: Male
Species: Vampire
Faction: None
History: Jusztin Zsaks was born in Hungary long, long ago, and became a vampire in his mid-twenties. Perpetually frozen as a handsome twenty-something, he made the most of his plight by seducing pretty young things into letting him feed on their blood. Fleeing Hungary in the wake of the 1919 Revolution (Communists are pretty good at hunting vampires, it turns out) he changed his name and settled in America, realizing that in this new land the young people he likes wish to be entertained. And so he has opened nightclubs all over the country, a ready source of young people he can discreetly feed upon. With the outing of vampires and other supernatural beings, Justin Xaxx publicly came out as a vampire and embraced the goth community, recognizing that this will net him willing volunteers for him to feed upon. While he is mostly legitimate, Xaxx has the dream of one day making Lochwell a "safe place" for all persecuted supernatural creatures- vampires, werewolves, witches, and so on. If this means the cleansing of the regular humans in the area, so be it- their lives don't matter. Better yet, keep a few as livestock.
Equipment: Immense wealth, constantly carries a sword cane
Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Xaxx possesses the usual vampire skills: superhuman strength and speed; near-invulnerability; hypnosis; the ability to shapeshift into a bat, wolf, or intangible mist. Being alive for centuries has also enabled him to learn a wide range of practical skills.
Weakness: The usual vampire weaknesses: Fire, sunlight, holy objects in the hands of true believers, wooden stakes to the heart.
Relationships: Justin Xaxx is respected by the public at large, who are not aware of his true motives.

Closed

<Snipped quote by Polyphemus>

hmmm wanna have him have a crush on Rose and constantly be trying to impress her

@Cuccoruler

I dunno, it doesn't really seem in character for him.

Closed

I would be happy to share a history with anyone who's interested.

Closed

Karate Bastard

Keith

Want him to put on a shirt? Good luck convincing him.

Name: Keith Blackwell

Alias: Karate Bastard

Age: 36

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Personality: Keith is massively, incredibly arrogant- there's a reason they call him Karate Bastard. He firmly believes that he is the best martial artist in the world, questioning or denying that will drive him into a blind rage. Keith despises the very notion of weakness and will never admit to making a mistake. Not a man who has or wants any friends, though he will make alliances if it suits him.

History: Keith was born into New Zealand's famous and wealthy Blackwell family, known worldwide for their fine wine. Ensconced in an Auckland penthouse, Keith grew up wanting for nothing and continually having his ego fed. His parents, hoping for a well-rounded child, enrolled him in karate classes at age 15. There was nothing special about it to them, it was the same as the piano lessons, cooking classes, and reading program.

But Keith Blackwell quickly discovered he had an innate talent- a genius, really- for fighting. He understood and mastered the techniques intuitively, surpassing the teachers at his local school in a matter of months. Keith begged his parents to use their money to send him to Okinawa, the birthplace of karate, for a real education in the art. And so, at the tender age of sixteen, Keith Blackwell was put on a plane to Naha.

The training was brutal and merciless, but Keith took naturally to it. His ego grew even further as he became capable of even more outrageous feats, sharpening his body to extremes. He learned meditation, traditional medicine, the use of weapons. But the biggest thrill came after two years of study, when an argument with a drunken local escalated into a full-on brawl. Keith killed the man, breaking his neck with a single blow. It was as he was hiding the body that Keith Blackwell experienced a moment of blinding, glorious clarity- he was destined to be the strongest fighter who ever lived. Anyone who died in his quest to achieve that was merely a mark of his quality, a measure of how he had fulfilled his purpose. The vintage on his family's grapes was counted in years, his destiny was counted in the number of skilled opponents he defeated.

Any pity or compassion that was in him was crushed. After the day's rigors at the dojo, he would quietly slip into the red-light district of Naha and participate in underground fights sponsored by the local Yakuza family. When his actions were discovered by the sensei of the dojo, Keith was immediately expelled. He took the expulsion with a surprising amount of grace- he felt limited by karate.

From there, he traveled the world on his parents' money, learning as much as he could about fighting. Wing chun in Hong Kong, vovinam in Vietnam, fencing in Italy, capoeira in Brazil, dambe in Nigeria, hapkido in South Korea, knife combat in the Philippines, lucha libre in Mexico, savate in France- just a small sample of the eighteen years of intensive training in virtually every martial art he could find an instructor for. When Keith felt he had learned what he wanted to, he would typically challenge (and kill) his teacher and their top students. After all, their deaths were the mark of his success. Lately, he has started seeking out fighters specifically to fight them, for the rush of testing his skills.

WGUF-What Got You Famous: Keith's probably endless quest has just brought him to the United States. The idea of fighting superheroes interests him. As a warmup, though, he decided to take on several of the West Coast's better fighters. A boxer in Los Angeles was decapitated by an uppercut from Keith, a dojo owner in San Francisco had his eyes gouged out. Finally, Keith stormed into the ring during a title MMA match in Lochwell and bloodily murdered both fighters- and the referee, and the security guards who tried to stop him, and a guy with an annoying voice. He didn't resist arrest by ARGO- Keith has heard American prisons are pretty tough, there might be a good fight or two in there before he decides to leave.

Equipment: Karate Bastard will use traditional martial arts weapons on occasion, but does not possess any at the moment- ARGO took them all.

Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Keith Blackwell has an innate ability to understand and master martial arts in short order. Twenty years of study in the discipline has given him tremendous skill at fighting. His intensive training has pushed his body well past what would normally be considered human limits- it is possible that he possesses genuine superpowers but that has never been investigated.

In particular, his speed and reflexes are at the peak of human potential. His strength is such that he can lift half a ton without exertion, and his knowledge of striking technique means that he is able to easily ram his bare fist through a brick wall. In addition, he is far more resistant to pain or injury than the average person and heals much more quickly.

Weakness: Due to his tremendous arrogance, KB will rush into things without any kind of plan whatsoever, without considering the odds against him. As he has done little with his life outside of study martial arts, he is socially backwards and has little understanding of modern technology or society. He has no real ability for ranged combat. Despite his increased ability to withstand injury, he is not impervious to it. Bullets, bombs, poison- it might take more of it than usual, but these things can indeed kill him.

Secret Hideout: None- KB only recently arrived in the country.

Relationships: None.

Closed

Karate Bastard

Keith

Want him to put on a shirt? Good luck convincing him.

Name: Keith Blackwell

Alias: Karate Bastard

Age: 36

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Personality: Keith is massively, incredibly arrogant- there's a reason they call him Karate Bastard. He firmly believes that he is the best martial artist in the world, questioning or denying that will drive him into a blind rage. Keith despises the very notion of weakness and will never admit to making a mistake. Not a man who has or wants any friends, though he will make alliances if it suits him.

History: Keith was born into New Zealand's famous and wealthy Blackwell family, known worldwide for their fine wine. Ensconced in an Auckland penthouse, Keith grew up wanting for nothing and continually having his ego fed. His parents, hoping for a well-rounded child, enrolled him in karate classes at age 15. There was nothing special about it to them, it was the same as the piano lessons, cooking classes, and reading program.

But Keith Blackwell quickly discovered he had an innate talent- a genius, really- for fighting. He understood and mastered the techniques intuitively, surpassing the teachers at his local school in a matter of months. Keith begged his parents to use their money to send him to Okinawa, the birthplace of karate, for a real education in the art. And so, at the tender age of sixteen, Keith Blackwell was put on a plane to Naha.

The training was brutal and merciless, but Keith took naturally to it. His ego grew even further as he became capable of even more outrageous feats, sharpening his body to extremes. He learned meditation, traditional medicine, the use of weapons. But the biggest thrill came after two years of study, when an argument with a drunken local escalated into a full-on brawl. Keith killed the man, breaking his neck with a single blow. It was as he was hiding the body that Keith Blackwell experienced a moment of blinding, glorious clarity- he was destined to be the strongest fighter who ever lived. Anyone who died in his quest to achieve that was merely a mark of his quality, a measure of how he had fulfilled his purpose. The vintage on his family's grapes was counted in years, his destiny was counted in the number of skilled opponents he defeated.

Any pity or compassion that was in him was crushed. After the day's rigors at the dojo, he would quietly slip into the red-light district of Naha and participate in underground fights sponsored by the local Yakuza family. When his actions were discovered by the sensei of the dojo, Keith was immediately expelled. He took the expulsion with a surprising amount of grace- he felt limited by karate.

From there, he traveled the world on his parents' money, learning as much as he could about fighting. Wing chun in Hong Kong, vovinam in Vietnam, fencing in Italy, capoeira in Brazil, dambe in Nigeria, hapkido in South Korea, knife combat in the Philippines, lucha libre in Mexico, savate in France- just a small sample of the eighteen years of intensive training in virtually every martial art he could find an instructor for. When Keith felt he had learned what he wanted to, he would typically challenge (and kill) his teacher and their top students. After all, their deaths were the mark of his success. Lately, he has started seeking out fighters specifically to fight them, for the rush of testing his skills.

WGUF-What Got You Famous: Keith's probably endless quest has just brought him to the United States. The idea of fighting superheroes interests him. As a warmup, though, he decided to take on several of the West Coast's better fighters. A boxer in Los Angeles was decapitated by an uppercut from Keith, a dojo owner in San Francisco had his eyes gouged out. Finally, Keith stormed into the ring during a title MMA match in Lochwell and bloodily murdered both fighters- and the referee, and the security guards who tried to stop him, and a guy with an annoying voice. He didn't resist arrest by ARGO- Keith has heard American prisons are pretty tough, there might be a good fight or two in there before he decides to leave.

Equipment: Karate Bastard will use traditional martial arts weapons on occasion, but does not possess any at the moment- ARGO took them all.

Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Keith Blackwell has an innate ability to understand and master martial arts in short order. Twenty years of study in the discipline has given him tremendous skill at fighting. His intensive training has pushed his body well past what would normally be considered human limits- it is possible that he possesses genuine superpowers but that has never been investigated.

In particular, his speed and reflexes are at the peak of human potential. His strength is such that he can lift half a ton without exertion, and his knowledge of striking technique means that he is able to easily ram his bare fist through a brick wall. In addition, he is far more resistant to pain or injury than the average person and heals much more quickly.

Weakness: Due to his tremendous arrogance, KB will rush into things without any kind of plan whatsoever, without considering the odds against him. As he has done little with his life outside of study martial arts, he is socially backwards and has little understanding of modern technology or society. He has no real ability for ranged combat. Despite his increased ability to withstand injury, he is not impervious to it. Bullets, bombs, poison- it might take more of it than usual, but these things can indeed kill him.

Secret Hideout: None- KB only recently arrived in the country.

Relationships: None.

State of Siege

@BlackSam3091

I'd love to have you, of course! It'll be just like old times. Any thoughts on what kind of character you might play?

State of Siege

Six months of civil war in the South American republic of Valverde have come to a climax. With the forces loyal to US-backed President Augustin Ochoa defecting or deserting in droves, the capital city of Esmarcion is nearly undefended. Opposition leader General Leopoldo Cortes is expected to have control of the city by nightfall.

In desperation, President Ochoa flees to the embassy of the United States and demands protection, accompanied by UN peacekeepers tasked with protecting what the international community views as the legitimate power. However, Cortes wants Ochoa alive for a public trial- little things like international law aren't going to stop him from dragging Ochoa out of the embassy. It's up to a small and embattled group of defenders- US Marines, peacekeepers, and the President's own men- to keep this one man safe from an entire army. The real question, though- is El Presidente worth protecting?

This is the basic setup for a fun little modern warfare/ political thriller game. I think there's a lot of interesting opportunities in this idea, and I'm willing to accept suggestions on how to tighten this scenario up. Any takers?

State of Siege

Six months of civil war in the South American republic of Valverde have come to a climax. With the forces loyal to US-backed President Augustin Ochoa defecting or deserting in droves, the capital city of Esmarcion is nearly undefended. Opposition leader General Leopoldo Cortes is expected to have control of the city by nightfall.

In desperation, President Ochoa flees to the embassy of the United States and demands protection, accompanied by UN peacekeepers tasked with protecting what the international community views as the legitimate power. However, Cortes wants Ochoa alive for a public trial- little things like international law aren't going to stop him from dragging Ochoa out of the embassy. It's up to a small and embattled group of defenders- US Marines, peacekeepers, and the President's own men- to keep this one man safe from an entire army. The real question, though- is El Presidente worth protecting?

This is the basic setup for a fun little modern warfare/ political thriller game. I think there's a lot of interesting opportunities in this idea, and I'm willing to accept suggestions on how to tighten this scenario up. Any takers?