Aren
Feels Up Moogles
Let's play a game. I'll release the deadly neurotoxin, you see how long you can hold your breath. B)
Posts: 218
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Post by Aren on Apr 6, 2012 20:06:26 GMT -5
Name: Luther McDonnel Age: 95, and looks like he's 30 Race: Gryphon Class: Warrior/Paladin Appearance: fc00.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/193/9/0/Adrastos___Guard_Design_by_lizkay.jpgth06.deviantart.net/fs43/PRE/i/2009/125/b/6/Archangel_Armor_by_Azmal.jpgBackstory: Luther is from a planet called "Vaneris", a mostly forested planet where most of the inhabitants live in the tall trees. He had been training in his country's army all his life as a swordsman, and had been in multiple wars. He has the battle scars to prove it. He retired from the army, and took up teaching new soldiers how to fight. A sickness passed through his town, however, killing many, including his family and friends, and Luther fled his planet on a cargo ship, taking only valuables and currency. He took up travelling, and met with Onna Silverstone at a docking bay, and they have been travelling companions and friends ever since. Personality: Luther is snarky and charming, sarcastic at times, and enjoys a good joke and a beer or two. He makes friends easily, and is a bit of a lady's man. He's a little thick-headed, and blunt, and only gets mad on certain occasion. He also has a thick accent akin to that of Scotland back on Earth. Abilities: He's not very agile on land, in the air, it's a completely different story. He fights best with a two-handed sword or a longsword and shield, but can also use a mace or a war-axe. He's also incredibly strong. _______________________________________________ Name: Onna Silverstone Age: 87 Race: Elf Class: Sharpshooter, Vampire. Appearance: The first is how she looks, and her casual armour, the second is her field armour. fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/070/2/e/elven_paladin_by_eth0_lancer-d2lr0mo.pngfc04.deviantart.net/fs43/f/2009/158/3/c/Female_Warrior_Ayana_by_MeganeRid.jpgBackstory: Onna is from a barren planet called "Isol", where most of the towns have been destroyed, and majority of the inhabitants are rogue, and move around often. She grew up in a family that was all about war. On her planet, everyone and their dog had a gun given to them at birth, and that's not an overstatement. They gave it a name, and that gun stayed with them 'til they died, and was buried with them. War was rampant, since their world was deteriorating, and she grew up tough, learning to keep emotions concealed. She left when she reached adulthood, tired of constant fighting and death of the people she knew. She went in search of a quick source of money and food, travelling anywhere that caught her interest. Personality: Onna tries to hide her emotions constantly, seeming cold and distant when one tries to get to know her for the first time, but once you get to know her, Onna begins to joke and becomes relaxed, showing a bit more emotion. She rarely cries, but anything on the negative side of the emotional spectrum is easily drawn from her. She's also quite fun to tease. Abilities: She's extremely talented with a sniper rifle, and when forced, she can fight with hand-to-hand combat. She's also extremely agile and can climb and run quickly. Because of her Vampire part, she can take the shape of any person she sees, using illusion magic, and can only mimic their voice if she's heard them before. But she must also drink blood constantly to keep up her strength and magic.
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ThatOneGuysBro
Murdered One Of The K-ON Cast
Problem officer?
Posts: 407
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Post by ThatOneGuysBro on Apr 7, 2012 11:34:05 GMT -5
Name: Zethinir Nalathor (often goes by Zeth) Age: 51 Race: Part Elf, part Drakkin (wind affinity) Class: Wind Mage Appearance: Zeth stands at 5'9 with a slim figure that would make him look like somewhat of a push-over at first glance. His loose raven locks drape over his somewhat broad shoulders. His skin is somewhat pale, sometimes giving the impression of illness. Due to his Elven ancestry his skin is fair and smooth, despite his age. His eyes shimmer with a glass-like silver that denotes his kindred spirit along with a gentle smile to match. His nose is somewhat pointed as are his ears, though not as much as other elves due to his mixed breed, so his origin isn't always conspicuous. Overall he is somewhat dainty yet handsome. Attire - www.fireemblemwod.net/gallery/albums/10/Stefan.jpgBackstory: Zethinir was born on the Elvish settlement planet of Zervs. His bloodline can be traced back strictly to those of the ancient and first born of the Elves through a comprehensive genealogy kept in his family's library for posterity's sake. His bloodline was nearly unadulterated by other lineages, thus retaining to a degree the awesome power of their forefathers. That is, until his father wedded a Drakkin. However, when he was born the elders of his kin noticed a large reservoir of Power within the child, familiar to that of their Elven ancestors, though not wholly so. Living a relatively normal childhood he learned how to hone his Power for healing purposes, as was often custom in many Elven societies. More so than the other children his age he was always timid and kind hearted. Zeth, however, was born at the wrong place at the wrong time. Living on the outskirts of civilization his hometown was untouched by the civil war waged on his home planet. Against its theocratic rule a faction of guerrilla fighters battled for supremacy. One unfortunate day a rogue battalion assaulted his hometown, and before his own eyes he witnessed the death of his mother as she tried to protect him. The weight of her lifeless body as she fell in a futile attempt to protect her child triggered an emotion from within, unlocking a devastating and ancient power. He blacked out and remembered only up to the point of his mother's demise. When he awoke the town was dilapidated and everyone within its borders were dead. The town was torn asunder, debris in every which direction, as if it were a natural disaster. Everyone had been fatally scathed with a multitude of deep scratches from head to toe and some even worse. At the age of 13 the event left him scarred, though he never fully realized what had happened that day. After two weeks of fending for himself he managed to dig enough graves for those who had passed, civilian and soldier alike. Deciding there was no longer a life for him in the decimated village he wandered in the wilderness until he became lost in the vast expanse of golden dunes. He fainted in the desert, left for dead. When he awoke two days later he found himself in a cave with a somewhat aged gentlemen garbed in shoddy brown cloaks. He brought Zeth to an old shanty in the wilds near the edge of the desert wasteland. Explaining his situation to the enigmatic stranger Zeth was taken in. He taught him many things about nature, how to hunt, cook, and live off of the environment. Within a short time span he noticed Zeth's large reserves of Power and sought to teach him how to harness his birth right. Thirteen years later Zeth was an accomplished user of Power and caster of wind magics. With borrowed wisdom and pure intention he felt it was time to experience Zervs with his own eyes. The man who had raised him, at first reluctant, relented, warning Zeth to be wary, as the world was still at war with itself. Months of traversing the wilderness of Zervs Zeth came upon the capital metropolis of Ubirious. The city was in a ruinous state, the citizenry hidden in their crumbling homes in fear of the rogue militia that combated the state military for control of the capital. Many things transpired within the boundaries of the city which ultimately had a profound effect on Zeth. After seven long years power had been restored to the theocracy of Ubirious. Hence forth from then on he took a personal oath to never extinguish a life unless it was a last resort and truly necessary. For some twenty odd years Zeth roamed from city to city and town to town, doing what little he could to get by. Many times he had been bereft of hope and wanted to change the state of the world he lived in. It was by chance that he had caught wind of the TSC and their deeds. It was an opportunity for him to spread his philanthropy throughout the known universe. With his adept use of the magic arts he hoped to make himself useful for what he deemed a noble endeavor. Personality: Zeth is kind-hearted and fairly affable, always trying to avoid confrontation and is quite humble as well as a devoted worker. He is quick to trust and just as quick to form bonds of friendship. He also believes in the notion that all people, given time and understanding, can co-exist in peace. However, when push comes to shove he is not helpless. Like anyone else when swamped with stress or when in the face of instigation he can snap at a moment's notice, though this is rare and he usually has a solid check on his emotions. Every blue moon, however, in the heat of conflict Zeth has been known to black out in times of immense rage, though it has only happened twice, both times resulting in mass bloodshed. Abilities: Adept in the magic arts, primarily of the wind element, Zeth can manipulate the air around him in a multitude of innovative ways for both offensive and defense. Coupled with his abnormally large reservoir of Power he is able to compensate for his delicate physical constitution.
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pulse
Full Throttle Member
Some people call them demons, I call them bitches.
Posts: 172
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Post by pulse on Apr 7, 2012 16:53:36 GMT -5
Name: Tarvel Axxon
Age: 34
Race: Human
Class: Warrior/Sharpshooter
Appearance: Tarvel stands roughly six feet tall, his implants the most obvious - and certainly imposing - aspect of him to even the most casual of onlookers. His arms and legs are artfully designed, consisting of several hundreds of dull grey metal wires that weave and interlock about each other in near silence; the upper bounds of their military-level power are yet to be tested by Tarvel, and unverified by the shadier contacts that pulled the strings necessary to provide him with such high-end hardware. Atop these devices, he wears a simple white t-shirt and nondescript navy blue jacket with mismatching camouflage trousers. As you might expect, his eyes are also synthetic, a pinprick of red light from the centre the only indication of their inorganic nature. A military cut of a dark black sits atop his head, some of the last he retains around the mechanical shell he now inhabits.
Backstory: Once served as the vice-chief of security for a large interplanetary shipping firm in one of Crescent’s numerous megacities, until injury caused by proxy soldiers of a rival corporation left him debilitated and forced to accept mechanical replacements for his limbs and much of his back - at his own expense however, as the blame was laid at his feet by his former employers. The ensuing legal technicalities and attempts to reclaim the loss in company funds resulted in his self-imposed exile, after which he was forced to live in the slums of one backwater colony to the next; always running, scraping as much an existence as he is permitted.
Personality: As much as his recent track record may protest otherwise, Tarvel is hardly the type to happily deceive and subvert; for him, direct confrontation is the name of the game, whether it be a skirmish in the rainswept urban jungle or a verbal disagreement over poker in a dingy backalley bar. He prefers a life of seclusion to the exploitative, violence-stricken one that many a passing lowlife has offered on account of his augmentations. Taken to questioning the motivations and behaviour of those around him with great frequency, although he tends do so aloud, and without regard for his surroundings. Quite a fan of vintage rock music from the later reaches of the 20th century to the exclusion of all else.
Abilities: Tarvel is most skilled in the use of his retrofitted glock 17 and is capable using it at the extreme range of its specifications, but his general approach is to use it up close in harmony with his fists. This approach leaves him vulnerable, making quick and efficient dispatch of his foes of the utmost importance - something his new limbs are only too happy to grant.
(this is just in advance, won't be able to join until after exams and such)
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Post by thatfallout3guy on Apr 9, 2012 13:37:45 GMT -5
First off I'd like to thank everyone that took the time to submit a character, even if you didn't make it in, it's cool that you took the time to make one for the RP. Even if you didn't make it, don't scrap your character. Maybe someone will get killed off and you can join then? None the less, here's the list of players and their characters that made it in. - Rygand: Sebastian Davenport/Trick Sparrow
- draconicdm: Alexander de Luca
- kain17335: Davien Martellus
- GraybeardHalt: Richard Ashendale
- Luke: KEX Model #256978
- thirdofnine: Argus Bae/Mirrorfist
- bluebook06: Skye Kozar
- Aren: Onna Silverstone
- ThatOneGuysBro: Zethinir Nalathor
Again, feel free to submit a character at any time, even if you didn't make it in. Who knows? Someone might die and you can take their place!
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Rizem
Opinionated Massive Git
To die is nothing, to not live is terrible.
Posts: 37
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Post by Rizem on Apr 15, 2012 17:01:11 GMT -5
Name: Valad
Age: Unknown
Race: Human Vampire
Appearance: Tall, with thin features and long black hair. His eyes glow bright red, shining even in the dark. His fangs are long, and his teeth are sharp. But to most, right off the bat, he could be regarded as handsome. He wears baggy black pants tucked into black, well polished and well worn boots. His shirt has silver buckles, and is very tight across his body. He wears a heavy and worn black cloak, with blood red lining.
Backstory:He awoke in the coffin. It was cold. He gasped in air, and felt his lungs burn. "I am so hungry..." he spoke to the dark. He put a hand to the coffin lid, and pushed. It cracked and pulled free of the nails that held it in place, much more easily than it should have done. He sat up to look around, the bloodmoon casting orange light on the dark graveyard grounds. A man stood at his coffin's side, pulling him from his grave. "You're awake... My god. It worked, she sired you." For some reason, his blood flaired with firey hunger. "SILENCE!" Valad roared, and, springing from his coffin, lept on the man and sunk his teeth into his neck. He ignored the man's screams, and drained him of all his blood. When he finished, he stood tall and looked back up at the orange moon, red eyes gleaming. Power flowed through his veins like a current of molten magma. "How... delicious."
Personality: Smug. He believes with all his heart that he is unkillable. Uncaring, he could be discribed as, even going on closed. He relies on himself, and only himself. People weigh you down, he thinks. But there is something about him, some permiablity. Like he is on some level, alone.
Abilities: He many abilities that rely on his vampirism to function. Foremost is his favoured power, regeneration. Also, he enjoys creating phantasmal shadows to help tear his foes apart. He is a dead eye shot with his enhanced senses, and remarkably fast with his sword. But he is just as happy to destroy his enemies with his bare hands and teeth.
(Yes I DID just copy him from Sexy Time. Bloody hell... starting a new RP while I was on vacation. D:)
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Mr.Chocobo
Able To Click
WARRRRK, WWWARK!
Posts: 6
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Post by Mr.Chocobo on Apr 20, 2012 17:16:57 GMT -5
Name: Xavier Malcious Age: 32 Race: Human Class: Warrior/Ranged Appearance: (Picture) Tall and lean, with an athletic build that is unusual for someone of his personality. His hair is long and dark and flairs out naturally at the ends. His eyes are never the same colour from one instance to the next, and change from green to blue to grey and mixtures of all three, and are his best features when he isn't hiding them behind glasses. Backstory: Born to a middle class family, he was an unremarkable boy. However, he has always had a dream, to be the greatest creator of robots and machines the multiverse had ever seen. A bit overstated, no? He started out going to a profound college, but dropped out and went freelance, creating things that no one had ever thought about. Life seemed to be going according to plan, until his home was attacked by a jealous peer's own collection of custom made robots. His wife was killed in the onslaught, and Xavier himself was only saved by a robot named Lars he was building. With nothing but tiny Lars on his shoulder and the Ravenger equipment he had only started construction on, to build a better soldier out of metal and motors, he set out to the one place he thought his unique skills might benefit him, The TSC. Personality: Calm and easy to get along with. Although he can get pig headed when his intellect is questioned. He doubts himself heavily, and relies on the one thing he knows he is good at to prop up his ego, his smarts. He is truely very handsome when he takes off his glasses and wipes the oil off of himself, but he really doesn't know it. Abilities: He is nothing really special (Minus his smarts) without his Ravenger gear, which he is constantly upgrading, but with it, he has many abilities. His strength is massively enhanced, and it comes with a few weapons on each limb. The right arm has long claws that can be electrified to add to the pain they can inflict, as well as a pistol attachment in the wrist. The left arm has extra sensitive sensors on the inside of his hand, and a small lazor drill in the palm, this is strong enough to cut through most un-re-enforced metals. This arm also has a small particle cannon, which can fire with a delay of 3 seconds to great effect. His right leg has a machine gun attachment with 4 replacable clips of 20 shots each. His left leg has four massive gripping claws on the foot which can be used for gripping an enemy, or tossing a being around like a stuffed animal. He will add many, MANY new features to his Ravenger equipment, and even eventually extend the limbs into a full suit. ~P.S. Did'ja miss me Fallout? Attachments:
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