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5 mos ago
Current Happy Chinese New Year, RPGuild!


Eat. Sleep. Conquer. Repeat.

If there was ever a motto to follow, that's the one I believe everyone should follow.

Most Recent Posts

Jonah Remington

Not satisfied but I will try to make edits tomorrow or next week. Until then, I'll eagerly accept any criticism on this first draft.
I'm struggling between 4 different character concepts and I've got no idea which one to choose, arrrgghhghdhgdsfjh.
Operative File

TL;DR: basically Diana Lotus.

Currently working on a bartender character right now. Probably gonna finish the concept by the end of this week.
Jerry O'Connell

Jonah Remington


You have no idea how desperately I want to be chauffeur again.....

But anyway, I’m brainstorming now. Probably gonna ditch a concept Inwas working on and start with a new one.

EDIT: God, now, I'm going in circles.
Simply put, this is a thread for people to ask and describe the context and stories behind the creation of their username. Is your username a remnant that you stuck with from another forum? Is it an inside joke or does it refer to some incident occurring online or in real life? Well, this is the place for you to put those questions, misconceptions and rumors to rest.

I'll start.

Bork Lazer refers to a Pokemon Leaf-Green Nuzlocke Playthrough by TeamFourStar where they captured a Snorlax after a long 1-hour battle after it nearly decimated all of their team. They decided to aptly name it Bork Lazer.

It is not referring to Brock Lesnar.



Interacting with: @Star Lord

Virgil shielded himself behind a over-flowing green garbage bin. He gagged at the sour smell of chinese take-out and mouldy shoes. He would have preferred a car or a large fridge but it was the only thing that prevented him from turning into mincemeat. Blasts of buckshot and bullets thundered through the fetid alleyway air, perforating the garbage bin, his shouts being lost in the cacophony.

“ Look, why don’t you pick on someone with their own gun?!”

On second thought, that sentence didn't make much sense. The officers replied by just continuing to fire at him. His muscles were beginning to ache from how long he’d been levitating the garbage bin for. Alright, enough of playing target practice. He steeled himself, breathing out, waiting for the inevitable sound of an empty -


He lashed out with his right hand and the garbage bin flew down the alley in a lurching arc, its metallic frame bouncing off the walls and ground. An officer slid out of cover to avoid being crushed, just in time for a whip of electricity to catch him in the chest. A kevlar vest could stop bullets but 50,000 volts of electricity was a different matter entirely. The two others ignored their convulsing comrade laying on the ground and leveled their rifles out towards him. Only to find that their rifles had been pulled out of their hands by an unseen force. Virgil smirked. Guns were made out of metal. Magnets attract metals. And when you were a living magnet, the answer was obvious. Twisting his hands to adjust the polarity, the rifle stocks slammed into their foreheads, knocking them out cold for good.

" So much for gun safety seminars..."

Virgil let his hands down and the pair of guns clattered to the ground. He began to stroll out of the alley, readying himself to surf away if it wasn’t for the glint on the back of the unconscious men’s necks. He crouched down to examine further. Virgil closed his eyes, concentrating on the ambient electricity in the air, within his body. If high-school biology taught him anything about neurons.....

It was a spark at first. Tiny but concrete. It was there. He just needed to bring it out. He coaxed it slowly, concentrating on the cracks, the places that weren't insulated from him. It was maddeningly slow. Made sense, though. Human bodies were terrible conductors of electricity. However, a grainy after-image was forming slowly over time.


It was like looking at some weird, screwed up X-Ray. A skeleton of wires, a blueprint of the human nervous system. The largest tangle of wires was in the shape of a hairball - the brain - and like a parasite, the drone attached itself to a long strand that trailed outwards from it. The spine. He could see that the drone was still pulsing, sending electromagnetic frequencies to the brain, commanding its host what to do. His finger brushed against the metallic surface of the drone. All it would take was merely overloading that robot with enough juice that could turn the man sane again. Or turn him into a living vegetable. He didn’t like those odds.

Perhaps, that thing in Central Park’s the key to stopping all of this…..

It sounded like the beginnings of a plan. He zoomed out of the alleyway out into the bloodied and rioting streets of New York, plagued by the infection that had taken hold of its inhabitants in the last 3 hours. Virgil zoomed over top the skyline of the Big Apple, cars rumbling excitedly and lights flickering in his wake. His target was Central Park or Ground Zero of whatever Stryfe had unleashed all over the USA. For a moment, thoughts of Dakota City, the people, his family came up in his mind and made him wonder whether or not Stryfe's drones had managed to sink their claws into his hometown. The thought only made him push forward faster, ionized air trailing behind him.

As he neared Central Park, two things came to mind.

One. That ugly as hell art statue in the middle of Central Park was even uglier now. Being demolished sure didn't improve the aesthetic.

Two. The drones were currently swarming someone. Someone who was floating in the air like he was at the moment.

Another metahuman?

No time for curiosity. He leveled his hands out, laced with electricity, and began showering lightning down on the figure. Upon contact with the bolts, some of them exploded into puffs of grey smoke while others short-circuited and fell onto the grass, wingless flies. His eyes began to widen underneath his yellow googles as drones shed off her body. He recognized her. No, everyone could recognize her.

AP Metahuman History had entire chapters dedicated to her. He'd seen her face crop up on Dakota NTV7 and Youtube channels alike, millions of viewers fawning over her. Dolls resembling her were a birthday present pastime to young girls all over the world. There were numerous facial products, clothing lines and a cereal, Wonder Wheaties, with her logo on it. Richie wore her namesake on his underpants (That had been awkward to explain at the laundromat).

Wonder Woman. The living legend of WWI and international hero. Gosh, Richie would be fuming in his ears now if he found out about this....

So, how exactly did a small-time vigilante introduce themselves to a big-time celebrity hero? Virgil levitated himself down towards Wonder Woman, struggling to hold down his excitement as the manhole he was standing on drizzled electric rain below the both of them.

“ So, uh, never thought I’d meet you like this. I’d imagine an autograph session, not an apocalypse.” He sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “ My name’s Static. You got a plan to take down that Stryfe chump, Wonder Woman?”
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