Ves

Comatose

Awesome, thanks! It's been a while since I actually put effort into writing, so this was fun. Can't wait to see the other characters.

Comatose

Zed - Finished

Zed stands lean and lanky, at the height of 6'1, weighing within the 90s to 100-region. His build boasts only one thing - willowy, yet sinewy muscle contracted and tightened to the point where it looks as if he's a panther about to lunge at a moment's notice. It's mostly from when his body was adjusting, and maintaining, his lean muscles whilst he was in his deep sleep, courtesy to his new powers. His skin is a pale white, with runic, spiraling scars and tattoos rippling over the pale flesh with reckless abandon. Slim, almost effeminate facial features gives off a sense of aristocracy long gone, with a short, petite nose, smirking lips, and bone-white hair that falls to around ankle-length, while the long bangs hangs limply around his face and head, hiding everything other than his unsettling grin.

Full Name
Kingston Orafice

Alias(es) / Titl(es) / Nickname(s)
For now, he simply goes by 'Zed'.

Gender
Male ♂

Age
17

Active Abilities
'Pale, unblemished flesh rippled and stretched, the sound of muscle, bone, and skin tearing apart echoing throughout the room. Zed slowly straightened up from his hunched position, unrecognizable...even in the morose lighting.'

Zed's abilities are something you would call 'Body/Bone Manipulation', as his skin, flesh, muscles, and over-all self stretches, tears, and reshapes itself into the weapon, appendage, or object of the boy's warped imagination. Because of the odd control he has over his body, Zed's standard attributes are naturally enhanced - he's stronger, faster, and a Hell of a lot more durable than normal humans. To quote from an anonymous scientist's audio journals...

'Test One: The subject has complete control over the anatomies and bodies of himself, including skin, nails, fat, muscles, and nerves, etc., allowing him to freely alter and manipulate them. Subject can grow additional appendages and body-parts, remove them or otherwise manipulate his body, in visible, chemical and cellular/sub-cellular levels. While in his unconscious state, we've done some physical tests. One nurse prodded open his arm with a scalpel, only for the separated flabs of skin to instinctively...sharpen and slam together, cutting the scalpel's blade completely in half. The wound didn't knit itself together, exactly. It simply...closed together for the time being. The wound healed faster than normal shortly after, however...'

'Test Two: It has been a while since some of our first tests. In this test, the same nurse actively grabbed the subject's arm, twisting it around and apply pressure on key spots and joints. At first, nothing happened...and then she started to fracture and break apart the bone. The subject's arm abruptly snapped into place, the sounds of broken bones slamming together and mending echoing through the room, before the arm began twitching and warping. It only took a second for the pale flesh of the subject's arm and hand to transform, and in it's place was an odd, twisted version of a massive claw, the same color of the subject's skin, but with odd red pulsing veins moving across the flesh. We tested the transformed appendage, and noted that the 'flesh' was actually warm to the touch, yet incredibly dense and lethally sharp. Shortly after, it warped back into the subject's usual arm and hand. We have noted that the subject's eyes have turned permanently crimson, however, along with his skin being littered with weird red scars and veins.'

'Test Three: Something happened. The subject...he was possessed, or something...! He killed everyone. His eyes were still shut, but while we were getting ready for more tests, he snapped his bindings and his body exploded into horrors unimaginable. It shakes me to even think of it. Numerous nurses and doctors were skewered and tortured by extremely sharp tendrils. He reverted back to himself only a second after, showing discipline, before both of his arms transformed into hellish looking sickles! He sliced through everything and everyone...a monster. It took so much to bring him back under control. He's back into his bindings, with extra protection. We've locked him into a metal straitjacket, along with other precautions. I'm getting too old for this shit...'

The audio recordings ended after the third.

Passive Abilities
Zed posses an odd sort of telepathy; it's mostly enhanced instincts, if anything. Basically, he has a sort of 'Predator-like mind', meaning he feels a sort of mental itch, or stab, whenever something with negative intentions are within a certain distance. This doesn't give him the aptitude to dodge bullets or the likes, but ambushes are easy to sense. Also, as listed above, his attributes are enhanced, which also means his senses as well.

Weapon(s)
N/A

Personality
To put it simply?

Sociopathic.

Experiences, both pre-abduction and during the actual abduction...it has, well, changed him. It's not the physical pain - Hell, he may even enjoy it at times. Is it the mental scars? No. Close, but no. No, it's the psychological torture. Even before the torture of experimentation, the pain, Zed was always the kid you would expect to see in some Amnesia game or horror film. His eyes were constantly brightened, of course, like any other child, but not with what you would expect. A spark of insanity, maybe? We're, of course, talking about a child who dissected and prodded rats in boredom, and who cooked the dead carcasses over his own fever-ridden forehead whenever he was hungry in his little over-turned dumpster in the slums.

But let's get out of the confusing mess of his mind, shall we? Onto more linear overviewing.

In a nutshell, Zed isn't someone you would want to meet in a dark alley - especially not in a dark lab room. His shoulders are constantly hunched, as if the weight of the world has gotten to him, but his mouth and facial expression suggests otherwise. Pale white eyes, combined with tiny crimson pupils, are narrowed into an angry glare, while his pale lips are almost always contorted into it's usual sinister smirk, or, if the situation calls for it, a predatory grin. Zed's mind is cracked somewhere in the chinks, and it is evident by his whole demeanor. He's not mentally slow, or anything. No. Zed boasts a genius-level intellect, along with excellent street smarts, common sense, and creativity/ingenuity. It's just evident by how he treats every situation - with a sort of malevolent sort of playfulness that says all that needs to be said - he's taking it seriously, but, other than that, he doesn't really care. He treats everything like a game, almost. A twisted game. His mind is focused on one thing, and one thing only, after all:

Revenge. How will he get this revenge?

He doesn't know. Yet.

"Might as well have some fun on the way, ne?"

Weakness/Fear(s)
Although Zed is quite tight-lipped about anything that he deems 'lame' or 'weak', there is something that he fears.

For one...he fears death by electrocution. Not electricity, per se, although it does make him cautious. No, he fears dying by it. The pain of feeling all of your nerves lock up, your joints diminished...your free-will slain...burning...pain...

High pressures of water is also diminishing towards his health. It soaks his skin, and his flesh automatically absorbs it, hampering his shifting abilities. Lower pressures of water, like from the sink, or a standard hose, doesn't bother him. Neither does taking showers or baths.

Special Abilities / Traits / Attributes / Quirks
Before all of this...shit happened, Zed was quite amused by the though of zombies, and was always envious of gamers.

He also has the tendency to quote video game lines, like 'Boom. Headshot!' or anything that retains to the situation at hand.

Themesong
Comatose

Other
Nothing, I believe.

Comatose

Yeah, life can be pretty busy. Nice to see/read(?) you again. So...I've read the opening post, and my intrigue for this RP has increased tenfold. You will definitely see a character from me pretty soon, hopefully.

For powers, I was thinking something along the lines of Telekinesis/Diclonius (Elfen Lied)-esque vectors. Would that be okay?

Edit: It's either that, or some sort of body-manipulation.

Comatose

I find this interesting. Give me a second to read through it all.

Also, Cynder, hello...again. I'm Cifer, if you remember me, hah.

*~* нιgн ѕcнσσℓ σf тнє dєαd *~*

Litepow said
Nakamura grimaced at the mention of his name, unceremoniously awoken from his dreams of and fame and glory, whatever achievements he wanted to accomplish in his life. Pushing away from the stand, Nakamura wiped a large strand of dribble away from his face and glared at the brown-haired american drummer who sat behind him. "Could be worse," he said with a stretch and a yawn. "My name could be *Billy* or *Ian*, or worst of all *Matthew*." Nakamura gave the American a sly grin. Despite not ever talking to him, Nakamura knew of this kid, hell, most everyone did. Word was this American couldn't stay away from the principles office."You know, I've heard of you," Nakamura leaned over and gave the drummer's snare a quick tap. "If I recall correctly, you're the one they say has yet to up to one of Uzusuki's classes all semester. Pretty respectable, anyone who can give that paranoid old bore the slip is bound to be pretty crafty. What's your name, drummer boy?"

"Darth Vader." Seth straightened up, his body language becoming less wary and more relaxed as he quickly took to the boy. "My actual name's Seth. Nice meetin' you." he glanced upwards once he saw the door open, and his eyebrow shifted slightly up at the appearance of an intimidating female.

"Do you know her?" he whispered, twirling his drum sticks between his fingers expertly, before pocketing them again. The girl glanced around, saying something that caused everyone to shiver, before walking towards them. Seth smirked. "Sup Iron Vagina," he began, only for the girl to walk past him.

"Taikeekee."

Snort.

"Good morning."

Seth gave her a dismissive wave, glancing outside the window again. Shit was getting serious. More. He glanced back over to his new friend/acquaintances. "Yeah yeah, I'm Seth. What's Up. Let's go." He stood up, seemingly adapting to everything at a fast pace. "To the roof!" Seth began jogging to the door, and when the teacher got in his way the teen smirked, getting out one of his drumsticks and slamming it against the man's face, knocking him out and breaking the wooden stick.

"Like I'm missing a fight." Giving Nakamura and the Iron Vagina a 'hurry up' gesture, he walked out the door...to the smell of blood.

*~* нιgн ѕcнσσℓ σf тнє dєαd *~*

Seth squinted his eyes, bringing a hand up to shield his irises from the sun. "Man, they're getting serious." he chuckled, watching a teacher push a seemingly drunk man away from the gates. Standing up, he stretched his muscles and scratched his butt. "Better head to class for the last few minutes."

The teenager turned around, languidly walking to his next class in his usual carefree demeanor, unknown of the horrors that was happening near the gates.

---

Seth shouldered open the door to his music class, just as the teacher, some bald fucker, began some lecture on how to stroke your guitar lovingly. Or something. Ignoring the mans complaints on his uber lateness, the brown-haired teen sidled up into his seat near another dude from his year - a Japanese guy. Duh.

"Nakamura? Nekomura?" he asked, as the teacher sighed and began his lecture again.

"I hope your name isn't Nekomura. That'd suck." he chuckled, tapping a few times on his drum-set before pocketing the drum sticks. His eyes wandered towards the window. Shit was getting really serious. A fight.

*~* нιgн ѕcнσσℓ σf тнє dєαd *~*

They can mimic sounds, like parrots, but I'm pretty sure dolphins speak through yelling or screeching or whatever.

What is this conversation even.

*~* нιgн ѕcнσσℓ σf тнє dєαd *~*

Mtntopview said
I believe the correct term is "sapient"

Ah...nah. I meant sentient, as in animals cannot talk.

Sapient means 'wise'.

Owls are wise I guess.

They can't talk though. Sentient also means being alive, so I see what you mean.

*~* нιgн ѕcнσσℓ σf тнє dєαd *~*

Amano__Yukiteru said
What I meant to say was that he watched them from afar, he learned their way of life, if that's no good then I'm sorry, I don't have a lot of Brain Capacity right now, I just right now finished final exams. So I take it you want it changed?It's okay.

Be sure to read my edit. o////o ^^ :3 xD

Mtntopview: Ah...do you mean the future weapons? If so, sure! I thought you meant the weapons you keep around at school. I guess we all will eventually get guns really later on, hah.

*~* нιgн ѕcнσσℓ σf тнє dєαd *~*

Fujimi Academy

The starting point for when everything went to absolute Hell. A school, originally funded back in 1997, and now the monumental, highest-rated school it is today. It is located in Tokonosu City. The school is filled with a variety of students, some all the way from America. The school's original foundation is the basic cement/stone mixture you would see in any other schools today. The former material used for Fujimi Academy was wood from a Sakura tree, but the staff quickly reinforced it with actual sturdy material once an American student set the whole academy ablaze. Large iron gates separates the school's courtyard from the outside world, which is, in this case, a long blacktop road surrounded by forests on both sides. The road leads both North and South, where North is where Tokonosu City lies, only a few miles away, while South leads far away, somewhere into the mountains.

It was simply another day inside of Fujimi Academy. Birds were chippering amongst siblings, teachers sat inside of air-conditioned classrooms, boredly taking role, while students meandered the halls, either skipping, or carrying out an errand for a lazy professor. Unknown to the populace...this wouldn't be a simple school day, like the rest of the days. It would be a Hell of a lot worse...'cuz zombies n shit.

Seth leaned precariously over the roof of the high-school building, boredom evident on his tan face. The American teenager wasn't especially fond of highschool, after all, and abhored the thought of even coming. There was no fighting - there was a Fight Club, sure, but you couldn't talk about Fight Club. As a reminder, Seth slapped himself on the cheek and spat a glob of water into the air. It was something that he had decided to do a while ago. Whenever he even thought about Fight Club outside of Fight Club, he would spit into the air.

The teen tilted back the rest of his water bottle, releasing it onto the pavement outside.

"Who's lollygagging up he-"

SPLAT

"Wut."

Seth gave a curious glance backwards, as one of his more...annoying teachers, Mr. Uzusuki, entered the rooftop's doorway with an angry scowl on his fat face. It just so happened that the giant orb of water and spit descended right at that time...exactly on the shiny, bald mark.

"Mr. Bamburg! Detention for a week!" the man blustered, face turning an unhealthy shade of purple. Seth snorted and made lewd, wild gestures at the man's sweat-stained back, watching him stumble down the stairs, grumbling. "Psh, he totally forgot to tell me to go to class." he turned back around, just in time to see something happening at the gates of the school.

"Wut. Again."