Howdy, I'm interested. Is there a Discord I can join? I plan on reading all the posts at the time being but I'd like to do some discussion before I decide on joining!
Level 4- |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (34/40) Word Count: 386 +1 EXP Detroit
Once the rest of the group met up, Raiden, along with Geralt, Benedict, Susie, and the others, were given a brief rundown of their options. Tora chirped with his opinion based on what he and the others found in the scrapyard but was shot down when told the cons of his plan. "If we absolutely needed to, most of my organs are synthetic. I don't know how redshifting applies to machines, but I'm sure that'd open up some other possibilities. Plus, I really need to replace the pistol I sold. If we could find a merchant or some extra loot, I wouldn't mind snagging one. Call me selfish." Raiden added, giving some movement to their plans.
Following the group's lead up to the apartment complex, Raiden clipped his hook onto the skyline and followed alongside the group. Once they were zooming down the rails, Raiden took note of the horrific sights below, slums strewn with the poor, and a tall building pouring with the G-men they had encountered earlier today. Raiden followed Giovanna's lead up to the roof of a factory building where they were able to get a decent summary of the nearby locations in the industrial district. Raiden almost felt disheartened seeing the androids laboring so hard. He had no idea of their level of consciousness but felt poorly nonetheless.
Raiden heeded Poppi's alert of shady figures and made no waste of time to catch up. Raiden decided that with the explosives in play, stealth would be in order, but the rest of the gang had other ideas in mind. Before leaving on his own to deal with that individual problem, Raiden decided to help Susie with her request. He place a firm hand on the shoulder of her suit and looked her deadpan in the eyes. "I can shock you. Should give you a decent boost of electricity. Hopefully that helps." Raiden then deployed a light shock, surely not harmful to a robot, but might've still hurt maybe a little.
"I've got something down there I want to help with. If you guys can keep them busy from in front, I can help with the explosives." He took an alternative route down some ladders, sliding down the poles of each individual side, and made his way to the entrance opposite facing the hoodlums.
Level 4- |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (33/40) Word Count: 1253 +3 EXP Detroit
Raiden followed Giovanna as Benedict voiced his concerns about drawing attention to themselves and with that, the majority of the group gave the recommendation to instead investigate the quarantine zone, or on the safer side, explore to find sky hooks. "Sounds like a plan. I don't know about you guys, but I'd rather avoid going into the hole where we could end up leaving with an incurable disease. I may be a cyborg, but I can still get sick." Adjusting the tie on his dress shirt, he continued with the group's paced steps.
Giovanna then explained how the non-living allies of the group would be required to wear LEDs on their temple in order to blend in. There was no surprise in Raiden's expression to learn that robots in this sector were seen simply as property rather than as their own beings. The thought brought a very important question to the cyborg no one else had yet asked. "Wait, so you're saying one of us has to be with those three at all times?" Raiden asked pointing at the living members of the group. "Because if one of them gets seen unsupervised, that sounds like it'd cause us a lot more trouble than we set out to find." Raiden had hoped the question would provide some insight into how cautiously they should proceed henceforth. "And if that's the case, ain't they gonna find it weird that our little friend is with three of them?..." Raiden sighed his concerns to Giovanna before they split.
Once the plan was in motion, Raiden and the other group of humans (if Raiden himself could even be called that) split off to search for skyhooks so that traversing the city would be accomplished much faster amongst the group. Tora, before leaving, had expressed interest in exploring the city for its wares and tech, which Raiden found catching his interest as well. Maybe he could purchase a replacement for the gun he traded back in the desert. He wouldn't mind getting range on enemies again.
Raiden can't say he was too particularly thrilled with the "backroad" Giovanna opted to lead them down, however, he knew keeping out of sight may provide them the upper hand in multiple circumstances. They were just as quickly whipped from a nice street and then back into another alley riddled with pipes. When they stopped in the alleyway, Giovanna produced a small bag of what she said was called Red Ice, a drug popular to the Detroit of this world, and which would be their guide to finding skyhook. Raiden noticed how Giovanna stated many people lost their jobs to machines, a concept that while foreign to him made sense. "So you're saying a majority of the workers here are robots? Robots that are conscious? That sounds like an uprising just waiting to happen, hell people with cybernetics in my world are forced into PMCs, myself included, and I sure as hell got some screws loose." Raiden admitted, hinting towards his hidden persona.
After climbing the stairs where Rei lead the group, Raiden looked down, making a tactical analysis of the surroundings and the types of foes to expect. Raiden looked up to see the use of skyhooks being conveniently made use of by hoodlums before meeting way above the basketball court below. Raiden was able to ninja-run atop the holes of the roof, opting to stay above and in the shadows. Rather than jumping on top of a ledge or AC unit, Raiden allowed lightning to flicker on his hands and arms, allowing him to cling to the side of a building allowing for him to easily climb atop the roof next to Giovanna. He waited for her move.
As Giovanna dropped, Raiden followed her lead, dropping to the ground, and very quickly rolled the sleeves on his coat up to avoid damage in the brawl as he landed, and opted to make use of the discrete arm-mounted weaponry he found from the scrapper. He dropped the two briefcases to his sides as he landed before releasing the hidden swords. The blades swung out much quicker and tastefully than he had anticipated. They limited how he would be able to utilize his hands themselves, but they had a very mobile and sleek feel to them. "I can bare a few bullets if you guys can drop the other goons." Raiden said, confirming his plan. He wanted to make sure, being the member with the most bullet resistance on the team, to deal with the thugs brandishing pistols, as to avoid his teammates taking gunshot wounds.
He figured his friends could handle themselves if he made use of his protective cybernetics to stop the shooting. Raiden carved up many of the pistoleers in a violent execution style as the blades pierced and sliced through the thugs in a bloody mist. It's a wonder how Raiden managed to keep his coat clean, but the installed blades were another story. If some of the others hadn't run away from the terrifying sight of seeing a robotic man ruthlessly slaughter their comrades, he had made sure they no longer stood just as swiftly.
Raiden then made use of the last-minute pickings of the other thugs, turning some of them into mince meat and letting those who opted to run escape the scene in a show of mercy. It was after their assault died down that Raiden noticed a familiar, faint glint and retracted his mounted blades to inspect further. The spirits of those he had killed appeared before him, and curious as to how they would affect his mental and physical physique, he grabbed one from one of the thugs wielding knives and another from one of the pistol thugs. He had never witnessed anyone absorb other spirits too carefully, but he figured the process was relatively simple.
He took the spirit from the pistoleer and allowed his body to absorb his essence, stunting his height by a few inches before decreasing the apparent muscle mass on his cybernetic armor. His skin became darker and his hair tinted red. He managed to somehow regain some of his organic tissue and now donned a black sleeveless jacket.
After allowing the effects of absorbing a spirit to take place, he rubbed his forehead. "Ugh... I feel like I got hit with stupid." He said, his personality now developed into something new. Before he had forgotten, however, he grabbed the other spirit he expressed interest in, and smashed it in his palm, forming a relatively simple combat knife. Guess he could sell it or keep it as a carry-on. "That's cool... I guess."
Item acquired: Knife A sturdy combat knife. Move faster while holding it
Spirit absorbed: Hoodlum Dolls Pistoleer The host has gotten shorter, lost a little muscle mass, and gotten a slightly darker skintone. His hair is longer and tinged reddish blonde, swept to one side, and the portion of him that's organic has spread to the upper third of his torso. Some armor has been lost, but he's gotten a sleeveless black leather jacket and sunglasses. His personality is slightly simpler and less scrupulous. This spirit confers the Power Sidearm Infinity, allowing the host to reach into a pocket or other case and withdraw a new magazine for any pistol-type weapon that he wants, whenever he wants, although he needs to be carrying the weapon it's for. This spirit also confers the Weakness Mook, making the host take 5% more damage while dealing 5% less
Did anyone ask for nameplates to be used when posting? No? Well, I did them anyway.
There are still some missing, but I'm scurrying through Pininterest to find images that are close to the character's description. But anyway, feel free to enjoy it!
Yooooo! I usually make my own, but dude, yours are hella good. Don't mind if I do!
Race, Age, and Time: Warforged, 2000+ years, Only a few weeks
Appearance: Standing at a hulking 7' tall, Scrapheap finds difficulty making space in small areas. Along with his great height, Scraphead is also remarkably large, his Warforged frame being composed of thick metals and heavy materials. As his name describes, he dons a body of mostly scrap metals and moss, however, he is unsure how he ended up with such an oddly featured body. He's really insecure about it too, try not to bring it up. He speaks in a resonating tone that comes from his chest. His voice is created by the very magic that holds him together.
History: Scrapheap's body was not always so poorly maintained, though he doesn't remember anything before it was. Back then, Scrapheap was a Warforged, a machine created for battle and adventures, bound together by magic and given life the exact same way. Unlike a construct or a robot, however, Warforgeds would be given to them by their masters, so in a way they are humans.
Scrapheap has no recollection of his past and that is perhaps a result of his body failing the tests of time. When he was picked up by a traveling mage just a few days before being sold to the caravan, he was rusted, torn apart, and in a sense, completely dead, but thanks to the efforts of the mage who sold him, Scrapheap was resurrected and able to freely serve the young man who saved him.
Before then, however, Scrapheap was a machine of war. He was created with the sole purpose of decimating waves of warriors for an old empire of man. Scrapheap was good at what he did, and every day he returned home from battle, gaining praise from his old master for a job well done. His master would clean the blood off of his body, and perform very minor damages to the Warforged, then Scrapheap was free to do what he wanted for the rest of his day.
Being essentially what was a human in a metal shell, Scrapheap fell in love as many other "normal" humans do, but was always too afraid to confess his feelings to the man he fell for. He was a soldier from another kingdom, a tale as old as time itself, whom he met at a tavern many nights before battle. They had been seeing one another for years, sharing tales on the battlefield before one unfortunate day.
There was no surrendering. It would have either been a victory or a defeat, but Scrapheap stared at the sky in disbelief as he lay, broken both mentally and physically. He couldn't find the courage to fight in himself and after the battle had been lost, he froze when he saw his love. Scrapheap lay, blinking slowly as the life began to slowly fade from his magical body of metal.
...
Over 2000 years later, Scrapheap woke up one day in a magical workshop, with no recollection of his previous life, and his hands and arms rusted. Something had happened to him, but he didn't know what. He met a short mage, clearly a student for some sort of academia for magick, wearing robes and a floppy hat. Scrapheap didn't know where he was or how he knew that, but he knew this person in succession was his new master and felt indebted to this young spellcaster.
And it wasn't very long before Scrapheap found himself fulfilling his debt by willingly letting himself get sold to a caravan shortly after getting cleaned and de-rusted. Now he had new masters, or would they be kind and befriend the Warforged?
Personality: Scrapheap is very kind and considerate Warforged despite being built purely for war, which may be in part to his soul being incredibly sensitive and gentle. He is often seen as the Gentle Giant of the caravan as his skill in combat does not reflect his personality.
He is also incredibly hardworking, performing duties to the best of his abilities at all times, and fighting for causes he believes are just and right. Scrapheap is also naturally a fighting spirit. He prefers to resolve conflicts with combat rather than dragging matters out. The strongest man wins.
Scrapheap is a very flirtatious soul and will often compliment and flirt with those who find either attractive or that he likes. Quite odd for what many people would consider a machine.
Motivation: Scrapheap believes his debt for being rescued has not been fully paid off despite letting the young traveling mage sell him for coin, so he serves the caravan as an indirect way to do so. Scrapheap also seeks answers for what happened to him before he woke up in debt to the mage.
Skills, Strengths and Weaknesses, and Tools:
Skills: - Scouting - Translator - Self-sustainable (can repair his own injuries) - Can act as a taxi - Heavy lifter - Can break things easily - Philosopher
Strengths: - Master of many weapons - Muscle of the group - Incredibly charismatic - Tank
- Very large steel axe - Small magic repair kit - Collection of books to keep him entertained - Pouch of gold coins - Giant bag of water for his friends
Optional Details:
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What they want most: Just to be happy and feel useful.
DnD Alignment Neutral Good
Three Likes: Flowers Over-sized weaponry A good book
Three Dislikes: Spiders People talking about his scrapped-body Being repeated
Follow their mind or heart? (Metaphorical) Heart
Worst Fear: Forgetting his memories again.
Favorite color Gray
Favorite time of day: Midnight
How he Dresses Doesn't wear any clothes, but is covered in moss.
Favorite Season: Summer (His joints don't freeze up or rust as much)
God/Deity: "If there is a God out there... I thank it for saving me."
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I just want to see you shine
[color=fff200][b]'cause I know you are a star, girl.[/b][/color]
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<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><hr class="bb-hr"><hr class="bb-hr"><br><br><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://media3.giphy.com/media/S5DdQ9PyAFfyRqdkXw/giphy.gif?cid=6c09b9521b9yo3oi66zk131l98ru5ixeho1ddpby942ztfaq&ep=v1_gifs_search&rid=giphy.gif&ct=g" /><br><br>I just want to see you shine <br><font color="#fff200"><span class="bb-b">'cause I know you are a star, girl.</span></font></div><br><hr class="bb-hr"><hr class="bb-hr"><br><br></div>
Vampiretwilight,
Izurich,
AlteredTundra,
Dion,
DELETED08741,
Yankee,
Hos,
Crimson Flame,
johnwilliams1
