Here is my character for those who want to see a more "Normal" Super Hero
The Face
Basic Info
Name: Jack Harrison
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Hair: varies
Eyes: varies
Alignment: SIGMA
Abilities: Can change his facial features at will. Low-level, passive psychic radiation makes affected targets find him more appealing and charming, granting him limited powers of persuasion and. The Face is the public face for SIGMA. He makes the speeches, the press releases, and any thing else they need him to do. His persuasion powers are due to low-level, passive psychic radiation makes affected targets find him more appealing and charming. He can basically make people believe what ever he says, or convince them to do any thing with in reason. He is also a crack shot with his two pistols. He gets his name from the ability to mask his face as any one he wants to look like. By conentrating on a specific face in his mid, his psychic radiation makes others see his face that way. SIGMA research later found that this psychic power also served to empower everything Jack said. Essentially, everything he said was obeyed, acted upon, or agreed with… so long as whatever he suggested was not something that the affected individual staunchly opposed. That is, if he told a person to "buy a book," someone who didn't care either way would do it, someone who was thinking about buying the book would also do it, and someone who was outright against buying the book in the first place would resist this suggestion. As such, he can't tell someone to "kill himself" unless the target was already thinking about it, as most people are naturally opposed to dying (and the taking of their own life).
In one incident, he was able to command a suicidal man to die, and the man simply dropped dead… his heart and brain simply stopped functioning thanks to Jack's suggestion. This was when Jack realized that his power depended very strongly on his choice of words.
This ability, then, is perfect for turning anyone indifferent into a supporter of whatever came rolling off of his slick tongue. He does not have to support what he says to make the vulnerable minds around him support it. SUN and SIGMA undoubtedly found good uses for this.
Limitations: Other than is ability to convince people of things and mask his face, he is a regular guy. Not super strong or fast, so he can be easily killed. He also has a weakness for redheads, drinking, and gambling, and is extremely cocky. This leads him into some hairy situations.
Back Story
Jack had always been able to get what he wanted. Even as a little kid, he was never want for any thing. As a teen he discovered his power to changed his face, but he didn't use it for good. He was a prankster, getting out of any trouble with his abilities. In high school, he was student body president, and one of the most popular kids in school. He always had the hottest girl as his girl friend, they just never seemed to say no. After high school he went straight into politics, becasue he figured that thats where power would be best used. After the invasion, and seeing every thing that he loved and worked so hard for destroyed, he was convinced that SUN and Ultimatum were the right choice. He was soon picked out by SIGMA agents because of his unique abilities, and set to work as their spokesman and wetworks agent. While working for SIGMA Jack has encountered some, interesting characters and now has his hands in more than just government work.
Character Sheet:
The Face
Lvl 6 Villian (30 points)
Powers:
Core Attribute - Latent Telepathy
Type: Minor
Rank: 7
Feats:
Focoused Persuasion (Alteration)
Minor Attribute - Change Face
Rank: 5
Feat: Assume Face (Alteration)
Traits:
SIGMA Agent
Type: Major
Rank: 6
Modifier: Minor Reduced Versatility (-1)
Feats:
SIGMA Security Clearance Mid-level (General)
SIGMA Intelligence Access (General)
Limited SIGMA Backup (General)
Special Weapons Training (Offense)
Escape Artist (Alteration)
Gunslinger
Type: Major
Rank: 7
Modifier: Major Reduced Versatility (-2)
Feats:
Aim Shot (Offense)
Quick Shot (Offense)
Quick Relaod (General)
Crack Shot (General)
Duck and Cover (Movement)
Devices:
"The Twins: Lucy and Jane" Twin Custom .44mag Revolvers (5 Points)
Type: Minor
Modifier: Device (-1 point)
Rank: 5
Feat: Shoot (Offense)
Flaws:
Weakness for Redheads(-1 point)
Type: Minor
Rank: 1
Feat: Eaisly seduced by Redheads
Weakness for Alcohol (-1 point)
Type: Minor
Rank: 1
Feat: Will drink any thing
A Columbian-born mutant named Isabella Lopez, when her powers manifested around age 11 her parents basically 'sold' her to a local drug cartel. Using her powers, drug crops grew much faster and had much more potent produce. As she grew up she was also taught to use her powers in combat and became something of an assassin for the cartel. This all changed when she was about 23, when a black ops agent named Hollywood and his men killed her bosses and destroyed most of the organization.
Furious at the loss of her income and the closest thing she knew to a home, she spent a year tracking him down. When she did, she discovered he had cut all agency ties and become known as Hollywood Nocturne, leader of a group of mercenary soldiers (sidenote: Hollywood Nocturne is another of my CoV characters). After easily beating her in a fight they had a discussion and Espina admitted she never really liked working for the cartel, and Hollywood offered her a job as one of his mercenaries. She accepted, and spent the next few years working with him in Europe, America and elsewhere. However, during it all, she's always basically done what she's seen as her only option, and sometimes wonders if there's a way to break free of a life of crime.
(If we can only play heroes, she'll have broken off from Hollywood in an attempt to redeem her past actions, if we can play villians she'll still be a merc, but only out for money rather than any desire to hurt people).
Powers
She can greatly accelerate the growth of any plant, from seed to towering tree in moments. She can also manipulate plants over time to create new breeds as she desires. She can treat plant matter as part of her own body, allowing her to quickly heal herself by replacing damaged tissue with plant matter until her normal flesh grows back. She's also used this ability to greatly strengthen her legs to allow for super-long leaping ability.
She fights wearing an exoskeleton made of hard plant matter, although it's only bulletproof for small-caliber gunfire it does help take the edge off of a hit. It's also covered in thorns she can quickly grow out for stabbing or even projecting short-range, as well as her arsenal of seeds she uses for offense.
After spending half her life working for a drug cartel, she knows a lot about hallocinogens. Some of the seeds and spores she carries are from plants of her own design that can be used to make an enemy pass out, or begin attacking his own friends. She also knows a lot about making natural medicines and poisons.
Mutant Assassin
Type: Major
Rank: 3
Sharp Reflexes (Defense)
Street Fighting (Offense)
At Home in the Jungle (General/Travel)
Acrobatic (Defense)
Precise Strikes (Offense)
Underworld Contacts (General)
Bilingual
Type: Minor
Rank: 1
Speaks Spanish as a native language (General)
Flaws (+1 Point):
Plant-Based (1 Point)
Type: Minor
Weakness to Herbicides (resistant to other poisons/toxins)
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WearingglassesOf the friendly neighborhood varietyRegistered Userregular
edited May 2007
How many of you guys are connected with the police force in one way or another?
@Scrum: Night vigilante with above average physique, I take it?
Abilities: Can manipulate his bone structure, hardening or softening bones at will or letting them protrude through his skin to be used as weapons. Is immune to all forms of poison and can create his own unique poisons to deal the effects necessary. Superior physical fitness.
Limitations: His venom can only be transferred into another living being through the fang-like bones that he can protrude out of his body at will. These bones are in very specific locations; he cannot force them just out of anywhere. Forcing a bone out of his skin causes intense pain, while retracting it leaves a wound.
Usage: His power is basically a mutation of his biological body, giving him the fangs and organic venom of a viper snake, and is two-fold.
First is his basic bone structure, which serves as both a transport system for his venom (in the place of regular bone marrow) and as a superhuman ability all its own. By hardening the density of his bones by channeling a high-viscosity venom through it, he effectively hardens his skeleton, thereby making him much more solid. The punches he throws hits harder and he himself can take harder hits. A common defense mechanism he uses is to maintain a constant stream of high-viscosity venom in his rib cage, creating an incredibly tough barrier around his most precious organs.
He can also use a low-viscosity, caustic venom that, when in contact with the bone, makes it soft and pliable (not completely soft like cartilage but close), granting him increased flexibility and can be used to reduce the impact of a hard punch. He has been known to use this particular ability to soften the landing on a particularly high fall. After using this particular venom, though, his bones take some time to return to their usual hardness, as the venom has to be flushed out of the affected bones and replaced with his unique marrow (which is what's usually there in place of the bone marrow).
This unique marrow keeps the bones clean and healthy to act as the transport system for his venom, and can also heal and repair the bones (nothing else, just the bones) after he uses a caustic venom that softens them.
His bone structure also happens to contain a few "extra" bones not found in human bodies, and these bones are located at key joints in his body: wrists, elbows, knees, shoulders, knuckles, neck, and ankles. These bones are, in effect, his "fangs," which he can push in and out of his skin so that they stick out of his body. These bones all posses a razor-sharp tip capable of piercing human tissue and even, at the right angle and speed, Kevlar. They can stay protruded from his body however long he wants without the need for mental focus, but the act of forcing them out can cause some level of physical pain (though it can be negated if he himself forces an anaesthetic-like venom into the right places first).
He does not ever use the fang in his neck, believing that it would be dangerous to inflict any sort of wound so close to the spinal cord.
If he chooses to retract the fangs (which he often does to protect them), he leaves large, stab-like wounds in his flesh, whose pain and damaged tissue can severely affect his reflexes. It is generally safer for him to keep a fang in place if he pokes one out and wait to retract it when he is sure he is safe and can get medical attention.
Second are his venoms and poisons. Aside from the marrow that courses in his bones and acts as the base ingredient in all his poisons, all of his potential substances are potentially toxic to any organic tissue. Using his unique marrow as a starting point, he can manipulate it, creating the necessary venom to deal the desired effect on a target, from sleep to paralysis to death. He has even been known to cook up a hand truth serum. Not one creature is immune to his entire arsenal of potential venoms. The only limitation, then, is whether or not he knows a creature will be able to resist his chosen venom.
Depending on the desired effect, he can cook up an effective venom from the base marrow in an average of 22.45 seconds, with the shortest brew time clocked at 0.77 seconds and the longest at over 2 minutes…and this is only if he's brewing one venom at once. He also possesses the ability to brew different venoms in different areas of his body and direct them to where he needs them to go, so long as the venoms do not cross paths in his skeleton (if they do, they mix together and he has to start over, unless this is the desired effect). This takes significantly more concentration and, obviously flawless knowledge of what's going on inside his body.
He never runs out of marrow; it is regenerated as soon as it leaves the body, molecule for molecule, at exactly the same rate it leaves him.
The only way he can spread his poisons to others is by using the fang-like protrusions mentioned earlier. Kissing him or coming into contact with his blood does nothing; his poisons run purely through his skeletal structure. All he has to do is use a fang to punch a whole into his target's flesh, then the venom simply flows through the fang (not unlike how a snake does it) and into the target's bloodstream.
He can inject himself with his own venoms if necessary, such as in the case of a anesthetic that numbs him to the pain when he shoots his fangs out. All he has to do in these cases is control the venom flow inside his body, drive it through a fang (that's still inside him) in the target area, and let it leak out of the fang and into his muscle tissue. (To control how far the anesthetic spreads would depend on the nature of the venom itself.)
It should be noted here that the anesthetic is really his most lethal poison that could drop a blue whale in seconds…and yet the only effect is has on him is a numbing of the nervous system. He is otherwise immune to all toxins, poisons, and foreign chemical agents, including medicine, alcohol, and drugs.
Healing him from an injury can be extremely tricky and he generally has to rely on regenerative, magical, or surgical healing. Medicines do not help. Similarly, only specific kinds of diseases will affect him, though which diseases precisely has not yet been confirmed.
He has not yet been able to brew up any kind of medicinal substance in his marrow; all results seem to have toxic effects on his targets, even if he doesn't intend it to be so. This particular feature of his abilities baffles everyone who has ever studied his mutation. It has been theorized that perhaps, on exit, the fangs themselves add something that he does not intend to.
It may be useful to know that he can induce states of inebriation on a target as well.
Pony says he'll be starting the game in a couple weeks, which is exactly when I'll be moving and I probably won't have regular internet access for quite some time.
man, that sucks, so si wrote that huge bio for nothing.
Pony says he'll be starting the game in a couple weeks, which is exactly when I'll be moving and I probably won't have regular internet access for quite some time.
man, that sucks, so si wrote that huge bio for nothing.
You don't need regular access
Pony says it's perfectly fine if people just want to make a few posts per week, for example
Pony says he'll be starting the game in a couple weeks, which is exactly when I'll be moving and I probably won't have regular internet access for quite some time.
man, that sucks, so si wrote that huge bio for nothing.
You don't need regular access
Pony says it's perfectly fine if people just want to make a few posts per week, for example
It's not real-time
yeah, that's cool, I definitely don't want to just scrap all this.
Besides, it really would fit my characters persona/situation to just show up once in a while, since he's such a loner anyway.
New thread, so I'm gonna make poast with everything in it.
HeroMachine pic, until Fedora gets a chance to make me an amazing drawing
Origin and powers
Codename: Slam
Real name: James Martin
Origin: James Martin was an average kid. He got up, went to school, came home, the usual stuff. He was one of the powerless rabble, born at about the time that Ultimatum took over. He never really agreed with what was done by the Vanguard, but what could he do? After all, he was just another normal human being.
He got up in the morning, went to school, and that’s where the pattern stopped. While coming home from school, he watched as two cars collided at an intersection. One of the cars flipped, and managed to catch fire. James was the closest one to the car, he just did the first thing he could think of: try to help the woman who was trapped inside.
Grabbing the door, he pulled with all his might, but it wouldn’t budge. He tugged harder and harder, soon losing track of everything but himself and the car. He braced himself, and gave one last tug, pulling the door free…along with the outside of the entire driver’s side.
James quickly realized that he had been given a gift, somehow, but unlike others before him, he didn’t immediately become a hero. Instead, as he frequently had trouble harnessing his strength, he became a hero of opportunity, never looking for trouble, or for someone to help, but always stepping in if a situation arose nearby.
This only lasted as long as it took for him to master his powers, however. He soon realized that he had finally found a way to strike back against the Vanguard, and, taking the codename “Slamâ€, joined the Resistance.
Powers: Slam’s only power is his super strength. This, in and of itself, is limited by his ability to concentrate: He can only utilize his full strength (at which point, he can lift up to 5 tons) when he has no distractions, or has managed to tune out everything around him. The less he focuses on his actions, the less he manages to use his strength.
Slam’s strength allows him to catch large objects (i.e. cars) that are thrown at him. However, his lack of invulnerability leads him to be careful, as a missed catch or an attempt to deflect the car with his arm would still lead to injury.
And, character sheet
Slam
Level 5 Hero (25 Character Points)
Faction: Resistance
Powers
Core Attribute – Super strength ( 12 points)
Type: Major
Rank: 6
Feats (6):
Super punch (offense)
Catch [catches thrown object](defense)
“Time to get outta dodge†[awesome jumping ability] (movement)
Super kick (offense)
Super head butt (offense)
“Here comes the heater!†[throw something] (offense)
Traits
Hand to Hand combat (6 points)
Type: Major
Rank: 3
Feats (3):
Street fighting (offense)
Karate (offense)
Blocking (defense)
Green, since you're using Zealot, what would be a good way for Slam to convince Pulse to join him?
Normally I would say just offer him something he wants
But if that doesn't work, you can always just beat the shit out of him
In either case, he'd still probably stab you in the back if it was in his best interests
The best course of action is to try to appeal to his sense of justice, breaking him out of the whole "bad boy but really just starved for attention" thing
But that's probably the most difficult of the three
He's kind of like Slam, in that he's a regular guy except for his sonic power
Name: Dr. Robert Masterson
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Height: 8'0"
Weight: 587
Hair: none
Eyes: Green
Alignment: none
CHARACTER ABILITIES
Abilities: Heavily armored shell, augmented strength and speed, jump jets in his feet, extensive knowledge of robotics and technology, able to repair and graft desired pieces of technology onto his person.
Limitations: His strength and speed are not technically classified as "super." For example, a small sedan would give him no trouble to lift, and give a small toss. But lifting a loaded tractor trailer takes immense effort and causes his joint servos to strain and burn out if he attempt to hold it aloft for too long. His actuators are more than able to sustain this kind of weight, but the weakness, of course, lies in the joint. Also, when running, he has trouble breaking speeds in excess of 100 miles per hour, and maintaining that speed produces similar damage. As far as his shell is concerned, it is nigh unbreakable, but still quite susceptible to crushing and denting on large scales. There have been many occasions where large portions have been rendered useless and he requires the assistance of Stewart to drag him to safely and conduct a hasty field repair in order for them to retreat to safety. Also, due to his electronic nature, he is also susceptible to electro magnetic pulses. He did, however, plan for this by installing waveguides-beyond-cutoff (WBC), electric filters, RF joint doors and a complex equipotential grounding system (which more than protects against all manner of electrical impulse).
Usage: Due to his past, Asimov tends to avoid the use of conventional firepower (though he does currently have a plasma cannon from an alien droid mounted on his right shoulder). For this reason, most of his battles consist of brute force fisticuffs. Despite his heavy frame, the innate power of his kinematic chain, his actuators are able to force his body around with surprising agility (not surprising for a human, but surprising for an 8 foot tall, nearly 600 pound robot), which allows him to emerge from most battles with minimal damage.
As far as movement is concerned, he is able to leap extensive vertical heights, and combined with his augmented speed, this allows him to travel great distances by simply running and jumping. At one time, he attempted to install rockets into his feet that would allow him to fly, but the problem of fuel proved to be too great at the time of construction, so he chose to leave them as a sort of jump jet. This extends his vertical leap height by as much as 3 times, but if he does not have sufficient fuel to fire and slowing pulse as he descends, he will do extensive damage to his frame. As demonstrated in Stewart's late model propulsion system, the problem of fuel efficiency in the jump jets could have easily been solved once Asimov began harvesting parts from fallen alien mechs, but the problem now was the design of his entire frame, in terms of high speed flight. So rather than undergo a massive overhaul, he used the alien technology to provide himself with a near limitless fuel supply for his jump jets and leave it at that.
As a side effect of his height, and his lack of an organic ear, he has a series of 5 gyroscopes spread out within his frame, which will rend control of his joint servos from his body when they sense that he has become drastically off balance, which allows him to always land on his feet (and occasionally, his head, as he learned after an enemy managed to destroy two of the gyroscopes and he attempted to retreat by firing his jump jets).
CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY
In 1965 Robert Masterson graduated from Carnegie-Mellon University with a Ph.D. in robotics. He was 35 years old and he had a 12 year old daughter with his wife of 15 years, and together they lived in a suburb of Philadelpia. His oldest and best friend, Stephen Riken, was now one of the most respected surgeons on the eastern seaboard and together they set forth to change prosthetics, as the world knew them. Initially, Riken was satisfied to construct a prosthetic that simply allowed the wearer to have a natural appearance and normal, albeit still limited motion. Masterson, however, always strove to create something that allowed the user to be indistinguishable from the masses. Ultimately, he desired to improve on the human limb.
In 1968, her perfected a prototype, prosthetic leg who's power to size ratio was twice that of an unaided human leg. However, he had spent an inordinate amount of time on it, and though it was complete, he had depleted their funds almost entirely. Riken became angry with his irresponsibility and left to further pursue his career as a surgeon. Hurt, poor and distraught, Masterson set out to sell his break through technology. However, the strength of the device honestly frightened doctors and manufacturers alike, and he was turned down again and again. After almost giving up completely, he received a call from a General Lockwin. Masterson was asked to meet the General the following day, and to bring the prototype. Upon meeting the General, he found that his only intent was to use his genius invention for slaughter, and that, was something Masterson simply would not have. So despite his desperate need for funds, he bid the General good day and returned to his home where his wife and daughter were waiting.
As he entered the house he noted the lack of resistance that the front door offered as he entered. Calling out his wife's name he slowly made his way up the stairs and turned towards the bedroom, where he saw his wife and daughter staring at him, frightened, crying, bound and gagged, sitting on the floor against the bed. Grabbing a lamp from the hall table, he crept into the bedroom. Turning the corner he saw one of the assailants and thrust the lamp, bulb first into his face. The man turned, yelled and blindly fired his shotgun at Masterson. Catching the slug in the side of his right knee, the blast tore his lower right leg clean off and reduced the joint of his left to utter ruin. At the sound of the blast, two other burglars entered from the side room. One grabbed their friend, who was bleeding from the eyes, while the other hastily shot the woman and child before they all retreated from the house. Now, face to face with his wife's dying body, the crippled doctor watched helpless as the life drained from her eyes. Slowly, he faded into darkness as well.
However, after not speaking for months, Dr. Riken had decided to stop by with a job offer for his old friend, only to find the slaughter freshly laid in the bedroom. When Masterson awoke in the hospital, two days later, he was briefly glad to see his old friend by his old friend by his side. Comfort turned to grief as the memories flooded back in, and grief turned to the buds of madness as he realized that both of his legs had been almost entirely removed. After months of rehabilitation and therapy, the doctor was sent to his vacant home with his wheel chair.
Five years later, in 1973, Dr. Riken received a phone call. It was Dr. Masterson and Riken was surprised by how healthy he sounded. Plans were made and Riken went to visit Masterson in his home. After a pleasant lunch in a slightly disheveled dining room, his nostalgic smile faded to stern determination as Masterson told Riken of his latest work.
"Stephen...As I'm sure you remember I completed a rather...unorthodox prosthetic shortly before..."
"Yes Rob, I remember, but I thought you destroyed them when you abandoned your work in...you kept them, didn't you."
A smile once again crept its way onto Masterson's face. "Not only did I keep them, I've improved on them, and tailored them to my...situation, specifically."
After a heated discussion of ethics, Riken agreed to help install the prosthetics. Which lead to extensive testing, adjusting and modifying until they were ready to try. Masterson insisted they drive out to the country to try them in a secluded open field. Not wanting to argue with a man that he believed more and more to be completely mad, Riken obliged. When they reached the field, Masterson exited the vehicle, stood, and began walking. Slowly, he sped into a light job, looking down at his new legs the whole time. Gradually, his speed increased, directly proportionate to the smile on his face. Soon, he was plowing through the field, pushing 60 miles per hour and howling like a mad man; the insane harbinger of the dust cloud that trailed him. Making a giant circle, he slowed and stopped standing face to face with the speechless Riken.
"Now to test the jump function!" He proclaimed. Riken could only manage to reply with a stifled grunt before Masterson was launching himself in to the sir again and again, pounding the earth into submission. Higher and higher he leaped until he reached what appeared to be a peak. Unable to accept this, he thrust himself into the air once more, traveling at least 20 feet higher than any previous attempt, and at the peak he, once more, erupted into maniacal laughter. Riken noted the sickening crack that resonated from Masterson's body upon landing, and the sound was only punctuated by the mad man's sharp inhale and abrupt ending to his laughter. His eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out on the ground. Having shattered 3 vertebrae, Riken took him to the hospital, where he was told he would never walk again. Madness dug it's claws still deeper into his mind.
Nothing was heard from the doctor for 6 years, until, in 1979, Dr. Riken received another phone call. Not wanting to even lay his eyes upon the tattered shell of his former friend, he refused to visit. But the charismatic wiles of this broken mad man eventually swayed him once more to his assistance. This time there was no beating around the bush, Masterson took Riker directly down to the basement to see his latest creation. The main part of the house was nearing complete ruin. the kitchen table and counters were piled with rubble. Magazines with the paged torn out mixed with unopened bills, topped with dishes, laden with rotting food. The place wreaked, and the smile still wrought across Masterson's cracked lips was a true testament to his mental state. Once in the basement, Masterson pulled back a sheet, to reveal a mechanical spine and once again, his hope for the eventual restoration of his old friends sanity and health won out.
This trend continued for many years. Shortly after his new spine was installed, Masterson was shot in the arm by frantic police when he decided to take to the city and test his new condition on greater heights. On that occasion, Riken had outright refused to help at all, which Masterson took as total betrayal. Severing his own injured arm with a heated circular saw, he continued his twisted work one handed, until he was able to install a temporary replacement in 1982. Once he had two hands at his disposal, he decided that a helper was needed and humans were decidedly too weak.
1985 saw the birth of Stewart, a 4 foot tall robot, with virtually unlimited repair and construction functioning. 4 gyroscopes kept Stewart balanced atop a parallel manipulator using an octahedral assembly of struts ( a.k.a. a Stewart Platform, hence the name), all placed on one large, spherical rolling caster. With this small droid by his side, the doctor's work flourished drastically. In 1986, he replaced his weaker mechanical arm with a much stronger, more fitting replacement, and in 1987, he once again laid saw to flesh in order to make room for a matching arm.
At this point, the story grows shady and broken. The doctor himself cannot tell the extent of the story, since it involves a six month stretch in which his brain was suspended in a fluid stasis, while Stewart installed it within it's new home. He had no human contact for the next 6 years, remaining locked in his basement laboratory, largely in pieces.
In 1993, he felt he was ready. Vengeance would be his after all these years of seclusion. He had tracked his families killers through the papers and murmurs of the underground until the mid eighties. One of them had been arrested and charged with the murders, but two were still at large. He had lost track of them during these last few years, while preparations were completed for his emergence. But to his horror, further investigations yielded the worst of circumstances. The one who had been convicted had been given the death penalty 5 years ago, and his two compatriots had perished as well. One had died in a drug deal gone awry and the other...lung cancer. That was simply the last straw. The doctor thought desperately clamored for someone to blame until he realized...Riken. Without Riken's assistance, the final stage of his transformation had taken entirely too long. For this reason, he set his reticle on his oldest friend.
He traveled at full tilt to the same old house his aging friend had occupied for the last 30 years. He kicked in the door and frame, howling the name of his enemy into the halls. A small young nurse came to the foyer and attempted to explain to the metal man that the Dr. Riken was very ill and restricted to his bedroom, due to the pain of his illness. However, before she could speak her full explanation grabbed her by the throat and held her high in the air.
"He knows nothing of pain...I will show him pain..."
He squeezed and her body went limp in his hand, as his mechanical hand pressed her bones to dust and blood oozed through his fingers. Stomping wildly up the stair to the bedroom, he kicked the door off the hinges and through the body of the girl in after it. Riken lay wheezing on his bed, wide eyed in horror of what he saw.
"R-Robert...*ehhhh*...what have you...done...'" he stammered between deeply struggled breaths.
"I've killed your pathetic whore of a nurse." He placed one hand on either side of Riken's head and lifted him out of bed and into the air. "And now, I'm going to kill you."
"But...why?!"
"Why?! You're weakness left me alone and betrayed! It was because of you that I can never truly punish those responsible for my slaying my family! You left me to die, alone!!"
"But Robert! I...I didn-"
"And that his how you shall die...alone..."
"NO, DON-*unngh*..."
Rikens head spun, his grayed head spinning beyond the natural range of his wrinkled neck. Masterson stood over the bodies, and as the rage faded, flashes of memories returned. His mind replaced the scene and instead of himself standing over Riken and the nurse, he saw a thug, holding a gun and standing over the bodies of his wife and daughter. He cried out and fell to his knees, the image of his wife's fading eyes returning to haunt his mind further. He cried out with his hands held above his head.
After many hours and skulking through the shadows to return home, he entered his lab and slumped in the corner. He had decided to shut himself down and have Stewart destroy him. Stewart agreed, reached into the doctors back, said goodbye and flipped the switch.
10 years later, Masterson's visual sensors flickered on. Stewart stood by his side. When he asked the small robot what he'd done, Stewart replied by saying that destroying something as sophisticated as the doctor would have been completely illogical.
"I knew you were tired, so I decided to just let you rest." Stewart said.
"But Stewart, I thought I told..." Until this moment the doctor had been looking towards the floor of the basement, but he realized that it was far brighter than he remembered. Looking up, he was astonished to see that the house that once stood above had been torn asunder, leaving the open sky to be viewed from below. "...what...what new hell is this?" He stood and looked over the top of the foundation, viewing the outstretched wasteland beyond.
"This is why I woke you" was Stewart's only response.
Eventually the two gathered what they could from the lab and took to the wastes. Not long after, they encountered a troupe of alien robots. Not at all phased by their fire power, the doctor began dispatching them with minimal effort, tearing off the occasional part and tossing it back to Stewart to be used for future modifications. Hours later, a strange trio approached the rubble. They wore bright colors and one seemed to be emanating flame. The doctor was now seated amongst the pile of destroyed foes. He had attached one of their plasma cannons to his shoulder and he had just finished replacing Stewart's caster with one of their plasma fueled propulsion units, giving him flight capabilities. As he stood, the flaming one seemed startled by his movement. The doctor simply looked down as a large ball of flame flew at him and destroyed itself on his chest plate. One of them ran swiftly up and kicked him in the face. He lost his balance for a moment but the gyroscopes sensed his lack of control and forced his servos to reposition his body, so he simply took a small step back. Clenching his metal fist, he told his assailant that he'd better explain himself before he was injured. They were taken aback by this since they had assumed him to be an enemy. After a moment of confused silence, the only one yet to attack stepped forward and spoke.
"Greetings, we are an arm of the Vanguard, are you with us or against us?"
"...Honestly...I have no idea..."
At this point they realized that he literally had no idea what was going on, so they explained briefly the situation, the last three years of war, and the stance of the Vanguard. They told him their names, which were all obviously aliases, so when they asked him his, he thought for a moment and replied simply "Asimov...and that is Stewart." pointing to the small robot hovering behind him.
For the remainder of the war, he largely fought alongside the Vanguard, but did his best to stay unattached. Once the aliens were defeated, he took the wastes once more, in search of greater and more advanced alien technologies. The Vanguard did their best to force him to stay, but he would not have it. Occasionally he will receive messengers sent from them to try to convince him to pledge his allegiance, but they are always dismissed. Still, he maintains little knowledge of the actual situation, all he knows is that he feels he can not trust the Vanguard. Whether or not he feels they need to be stopped is yet to be seen, and truly unknown, even by Asimov himself. To this day he travels through the waste, usually running full tilt, or leaping great distances, while sending Stewart ahead to scout the terrain and scan for lifeforms. Often people of the wastes will see Stewart, and look to the horizon from whence he came, to try to get a glimpse of the mighty and somewhat elusive Asimov.
well, if you're character was a little bit annoying, he could follow Asimov around.
Maybe actually explain to him what's going on and try to get him to join some group or another.
I'm not really trying to recruit Asimov, since it doesn't fit with my character.
He spends his time in the wastelands, the Delta Zones.
Slam is from a Beta Zone. Just a regular kid, except for the powers.
I want to join up with Pulse, since both characters are really similar.
MrPaku and Fedora and such, can my craaaazy robot rebel guy be on your team?
They've been pretty against other dudes joining their organization so far. I tried already.
You guys do realize it'd be real easy to form your own group of merc's for hire right? Just throwing this idea out there, instead of having to scrounge for a team and beg other groups. Plus you'd become more lucrative if you worked together, charge more for a group rate sorta thing.
My guy is not a mercenary. At all. He is a guy who lives in the sewers and abandoned subway tunnels and fights the SUN in any way he can. He's very, very big on the whole free will thing, and believes that what the SUN is doing, with its secret police and its lording of superhumans over normal humans as some sort of saviour race is morally reprehensible.
So he's hiding underground and sabotaging SUN, Vanguaed and SIGMA operations and stealing information. He is also crazy and hates the SUN for being partially responsible for the death of his father (creator). He's modified his body to the point that it barely resembles anything human anymore without a big, tattered brown trenchcoat and an old stetson hat and his bandages. He gave up what little humanity he had so that the rest of the world might regain it through his actions and the actions of others.
Posts
"STOP RIGHT THERE!" "what're you gonna do, use your laser eyes on me? hehehe" "No....Im just gonna kick your ass oldschool"
That's how I picture it goin down.
Hope it works out
The Face
Basic Info
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Hair: varies
Eyes: varies
Alignment: SIGMA
Abilities: Can change his facial features at will. Low-level, passive psychic radiation makes affected targets find him more appealing and charming, granting him limited powers of persuasion and. The Face is the public face for SIGMA. He makes the speeches, the press releases, and any thing else they need him to do. His persuasion powers are due to low-level, passive psychic radiation makes affected targets find him more appealing and charming. He can basically make people believe what ever he says, or convince them to do any thing with in reason. He is also a crack shot with his two pistols. He gets his name from the ability to mask his face as any one he wants to look like. By conentrating on a specific face in his mid, his psychic radiation makes others see his face that way. SIGMA research later found that this psychic power also served to empower everything Jack said. Essentially, everything he said was obeyed, acted upon, or agreed with… so long as whatever he suggested was not something that the affected individual staunchly opposed. That is, if he told a person to "buy a book," someone who didn't care either way would do it, someone who was thinking about buying the book would also do it, and someone who was outright against buying the book in the first place would resist this suggestion. As such, he can't tell someone to "kill himself" unless the target was already thinking about it, as most people are naturally opposed to dying (and the taking of their own life).
In one incident, he was able to command a suicidal man to die, and the man simply dropped dead… his heart and brain simply stopped functioning thanks to Jack's suggestion. This was when Jack realized that his power depended very strongly on his choice of words.
This ability, then, is perfect for turning anyone indifferent into a supporter of whatever came rolling off of his slick tongue. He does not have to support what he says to make the vulnerable minds around him support it. SUN and SIGMA undoubtedly found good uses for this.
Limitations: Other than is ability to convince people of things and mask his face, he is a regular guy. Not super strong or fast, so he can be easily killed. He also has a weakness for redheads, drinking, and gambling, and is extremely cocky. This leads him into some hairy situations.
Back Story
Character Sheet:
Lvl 6 Villian (30 points)
Powers:
Core Attribute - Latent Telepathy
Type: Minor
Rank: 7
Feats:
Focoused Persuasion (Alteration)
Minor Attribute - Change Face
Rank: 5
Feat: Assume Face (Alteration)
Traits:
SIGMA Agent
Type: Major
Rank: 6
Modifier: Minor Reduced Versatility (-1)
Feats:
SIGMA Security Clearance Mid-level (General)
SIGMA Intelligence Access (General)
Limited SIGMA Backup (General)
Special Weapons Training (Offense)
Escape Artist (Alteration)
Gunslinger
Type: Major
Rank: 7
Modifier: Major Reduced Versatility (-2)
Feats:
Aim Shot (Offense)
Quick Shot (Offense)
Quick Relaod (General)
Crack Shot (General)
Duck and Cover (Movement)
Devices:
"The Twins: Lucy and Jane" Twin Custom .44mag Revolvers (5 Points)
Type: Minor
Modifier: Device (-1 point)
Rank: 5
Feat: Shoot (Offense)
Flaws:
Weakness for Redheads(-1 point)
Type: Minor
Rank: 1
Feat: Eaisly seduced by Redheads
Weakness for Alcohol (-1 point)
Type: Minor
Rank: 1
Feat: Will drink any thing
Vanity (-4 points)
Type:Minor
Rank: 3
Feat: Compliments will curry favor
he was a joke at first but i ended up spending like two hours on him so I want to play him 4 realz if i can
too late dude, i made that guy
name's SWArM
and I am finishing up my character sheet right now
my guy is more like Batman but without the gadgets and with Mutant powers
La Espina
Character
Furious at the loss of her income and the closest thing she knew to a home, she spent a year tracking him down. When she did, she discovered he had cut all agency ties and become known as Hollywood Nocturne, leader of a group of mercenary soldiers (sidenote: Hollywood Nocturne is another of my CoV characters). After easily beating her in a fight they had a discussion and Espina admitted she never really liked working for the cartel, and Hollywood offered her a job as one of his mercenaries. She accepted, and spent the next few years working with him in Europe, America and elsewhere. However, during it all, she's always basically done what she's seen as her only option, and sometimes wonders if there's a way to break free of a life of crime.
(If we can only play heroes, she'll have broken off from Hollywood in an attempt to redeem her past actions, if we can play villians she'll still be a merc, but only out for money rather than any desire to hurt people).
Powers
She can greatly accelerate the growth of any plant, from seed to towering tree in moments. She can also manipulate plants over time to create new breeds as she desires. She can treat plant matter as part of her own body, allowing her to quickly heal herself by replacing damaged tissue with plant matter until her normal flesh grows back. She's also used this ability to greatly strengthen her legs to allow for super-long leaping ability.
She fights wearing an exoskeleton made of hard plant matter, although it's only bulletproof for small-caliber gunfire it does help take the edge off of a hit. It's also covered in thorns she can quickly grow out for stabbing or even projecting short-range, as well as her arsenal of seeds she uses for offense.
After spending half her life working for a drug cartel, she knows a lot about hallocinogens. Some of the seeds and spores she carries are from plants of her own design that can be used to make an enemy pass out, or begin attacking his own friends. She also knows a lot about making natural medicines and poisons.
Character Sheet
La Espina, aka Isabella Lopez, Level 6 Mercenary (30 points)
Faction: Independant
Powers (24 Points):
Core Attribute - Plant Control
Type: Major
Rank: 4
Whip Vines (Offense)
Constrictor Vines (Offense - Immobilize/Hold)
Accelerate Plant Growth (General)
Wall of Thorns (Defense)
Walking Fly Trap (Offense)
Wooden Wedge (General - bursting open doors and locks)
Pollen Season (Offense/Defense - produce enough pollen to affect visibilty and trigger allergies)
Crawling Vines (Travel)
Side Attribute - Plant Exoskeleton & Enhancement
Type: Major
Rank: 5
Resistant to Physical Damage (Alteration)
Resistant to Poisons/Toxins/Drugs (Alteration)
Superleaping (Travel)
Quick Regeneration (Alteration)
Thorn Blades (Offense)
Thorn Bursts (Offense)
Sleepy Spores (Offense)
Confusion Spores (Offense)
Enhanced Kick (Offense)
Thorn-trops (Offense/Defense - covering floor in spiky thorns)
Side Attribute - Organic Alchemist
Type: Major
Rank: 3
Organic Stimulants (General)
Natural Poisons (Offense)
Nature's Remedies (Defense - Healing)
Delicious Fruits (General)
Fast-Acting Painkiller (General)
Leafy Camoflauge (Defense)
Traits (7 Points):
Mutant Assassin
Type: Major
Rank: 3
Sharp Reflexes (Defense)
Street Fighting (Offense)
At Home in the Jungle (General/Travel)
Acrobatic (Defense)
Precise Strikes (Offense)
Underworld Contacts (General)
Bilingual
Type: Minor
Rank: 1
Speaks Spanish as a native language (General)
Flaws (+1 Point):
Plant-Based (1 Point)
Type: Minor
Weakness to Herbicides (resistant to other poisons/toxins)
Picture
@Scrum: Night vigilante with above average physique, I take it?
Abilities: Can manipulate his bone structure, hardening or softening bones at will or letting them protrude through his skin to be used as weapons. Is immune to all forms of poison and can create his own unique poisons to deal the effects necessary. Superior physical fitness.
Limitations: His venom can only be transferred into another living being through the fang-like bones that he can protrude out of his body at will. These bones are in very specific locations; he cannot force them just out of anywhere. Forcing a bone out of his skin causes intense pain, while retracting it leaves a wound.
Usage: His power is basically a mutation of his biological body, giving him the fangs and organic venom of a viper snake, and is two-fold.
First is his basic bone structure, which serves as both a transport system for his venom (in the place of regular bone marrow) and as a superhuman ability all its own. By hardening the density of his bones by channeling a high-viscosity venom through it, he effectively hardens his skeleton, thereby making him much more solid. The punches he throws hits harder and he himself can take harder hits. A common defense mechanism he uses is to maintain a constant stream of high-viscosity venom in his rib cage, creating an incredibly tough barrier around his most precious organs.
He can also use a low-viscosity, caustic venom that, when in contact with the bone, makes it soft and pliable (not completely soft like cartilage but close), granting him increased flexibility and can be used to reduce the impact of a hard punch. He has been known to use this particular ability to soften the landing on a particularly high fall. After using this particular venom, though, his bones take some time to return to their usual hardness, as the venom has to be flushed out of the affected bones and replaced with his unique marrow (which is what's usually there in place of the bone marrow).
This unique marrow keeps the bones clean and healthy to act as the transport system for his venom, and can also heal and repair the bones (nothing else, just the bones) after he uses a caustic venom that softens them.
His bone structure also happens to contain a few "extra" bones not found in human bodies, and these bones are located at key joints in his body: wrists, elbows, knees, shoulders, knuckles, neck, and ankles. These bones are, in effect, his "fangs," which he can push in and out of his skin so that they stick out of his body. These bones all posses a razor-sharp tip capable of piercing human tissue and even, at the right angle and speed, Kevlar. They can stay protruded from his body however long he wants without the need for mental focus, but the act of forcing them out can cause some level of physical pain (though it can be negated if he himself forces an anaesthetic-like venom into the right places first).
He does not ever use the fang in his neck, believing that it would be dangerous to inflict any sort of wound so close to the spinal cord.
If he chooses to retract the fangs (which he often does to protect them), he leaves large, stab-like wounds in his flesh, whose pain and damaged tissue can severely affect his reflexes. It is generally safer for him to keep a fang in place if he pokes one out and wait to retract it when he is sure he is safe and can get medical attention.
Second are his venoms and poisons. Aside from the marrow that courses in his bones and acts as the base ingredient in all his poisons, all of his potential substances are potentially toxic to any organic tissue. Using his unique marrow as a starting point, he can manipulate it, creating the necessary venom to deal the desired effect on a target, from sleep to paralysis to death. He has even been known to cook up a hand truth serum. Not one creature is immune to his entire arsenal of potential venoms. The only limitation, then, is whether or not he knows a creature will be able to resist his chosen venom.
Depending on the desired effect, he can cook up an effective venom from the base marrow in an average of 22.45 seconds, with the shortest brew time clocked at 0.77 seconds and the longest at over 2 minutes…and this is only if he's brewing one venom at once. He also possesses the ability to brew different venoms in different areas of his body and direct them to where he needs them to go, so long as the venoms do not cross paths in his skeleton (if they do, they mix together and he has to start over, unless this is the desired effect). This takes significantly more concentration and, obviously flawless knowledge of what's going on inside his body.
He never runs out of marrow; it is regenerated as soon as it leaves the body, molecule for molecule, at exactly the same rate it leaves him.
The only way he can spread his poisons to others is by using the fang-like protrusions mentioned earlier. Kissing him or coming into contact with his blood does nothing; his poisons run purely through his skeletal structure. All he has to do is use a fang to punch a whole into his target's flesh, then the venom simply flows through the fang (not unlike how a snake does it) and into the target's bloodstream.
He can inject himself with his own venoms if necessary, such as in the case of a anesthetic that numbs him to the pain when he shoots his fangs out. All he has to do in these cases is control the venom flow inside his body, drive it through a fang (that's still inside him) in the target area, and let it leak out of the fang and into his muscle tissue. (To control how far the anesthetic spreads would depend on the nature of the venom itself.)
It should be noted here that the anesthetic is really his most lethal poison that could drop a blue whale in seconds…and yet the only effect is has on him is a numbing of the nervous system. He is otherwise immune to all toxins, poisons, and foreign chemical agents, including medicine, alcohol, and drugs.
Healing him from an injury can be extremely tricky and he generally has to rely on regenerative, magical, or surgical healing. Medicines do not help. Similarly, only specific kinds of diseases will affect him, though which diseases precisely has not yet been confirmed.
He has not yet been able to brew up any kind of medicinal substance in his marrow; all results seem to have toxic effects on his targets, even if he doesn't intend it to be so. This particular feature of his abilities baffles everyone who has ever studied his mutation. It has been theorized that perhaps, on exit, the fangs themselves add something that he does not intend to.
It may be useful to know that he can induce states of inebriation on a target as well.
Adder, Level 6 Hero/Villain? (30 points)
Faction: Unknown
Powers: (20 points)
Core Attribute - Poisonous Skeletal Manipulation
Type: Major
Rank: 7
Feats (7):
Poison Immunity (Alteration)
Poisonous Marrow (Offense)
Free forming Skeletal Structure (General)
Enhanced Stamina (Alteration)
Enhanced Skeletal Protection (Defense)
Skeletal Regeneration (Alteration)
Poison Manipulation (Alteration)
Paralyzing Venom (Offense)
Anesthetic Venom (Defense)
Skeletal Armor (Alteration)
Enhanced Physique
Type: Major
Rank: 3
Modifier: Increased Versatility (+1)
Feats (4):
Enhanced Strength (Alteration)
Enhanced Durability (Alteration)
Enhanced Sensory Perception (Sensory)
Healing Factor (Defense)
Traits:
Aboriginal Scout training
Type: Major
Rank: 5
Modifier: Minor Reduced Versatility (-1)
Feats (9):
Tracking (Sensory)
Desert Survival knowledge (General)
Intense heat adaptable (Alteration)
Crude Weapon Crafting (General)
Enhanced Reflex's (Movement)
Sneaking (Alteration)
4 more here
still needs some work
Goddammit
XBL - Foreverender | 3DS FC - 1418 6696 1012 | Steam ID | LoL
Pony says he'll be starting the game in a couple weeks, which is exactly when I'll be moving and I probably won't have regular internet access for quite some time.
man, that sucks, so si wrote that huge bio for nothing.
twitterfacebooksteamsomemusicofminetoomuchgunshegeekshow
Is Adder a hater/loner type of person (perhaps like Batman)? I can't imagine him cheerful.
You don't need regular access
Pony says it's perfectly fine if people just want to make a few posts per week, for example
It's not real-time
Looks more like what you need is an Editor.
You're style has, um... issues.
But now I'm sticking to it, just for the moments where every point I say would get countered by, "says the guy in the pirate suit".
yeah, that's cool, I definitely don't want to just scrap all this.
Besides, it really would fit my characters persona/situation to just show up once in a while, since he's such a loner anyway.
twitterfacebooksteamsomemusicofminetoomuchgunshegeekshow
You me and Viv can hang out in the SE++ Vent and have mini adventures together.
HeroMachine pic, until Fedora gets a chance to make me an amazing drawing
Origin and powers
Real name: James Martin
Origin: James Martin was an average kid. He got up, went to school, came home, the usual stuff. He was one of the powerless rabble, born at about the time that Ultimatum took over. He never really agreed with what was done by the Vanguard, but what could he do? After all, he was just another normal human being.
He got up in the morning, went to school, and that’s where the pattern stopped. While coming home from school, he watched as two cars collided at an intersection. One of the cars flipped, and managed to catch fire. James was the closest one to the car, he just did the first thing he could think of: try to help the woman who was trapped inside.
Grabbing the door, he pulled with all his might, but it wouldn’t budge. He tugged harder and harder, soon losing track of everything but himself and the car. He braced himself, and gave one last tug, pulling the door free…along with the outside of the entire driver’s side.
James quickly realized that he had been given a gift, somehow, but unlike others before him, he didn’t immediately become a hero. Instead, as he frequently had trouble harnessing his strength, he became a hero of opportunity, never looking for trouble, or for someone to help, but always stepping in if a situation arose nearby.
This only lasted as long as it took for him to master his powers, however. He soon realized that he had finally found a way to strike back against the Vanguard, and, taking the codename “Slamâ€, joined the Resistance.
Powers: Slam’s only power is his super strength. This, in and of itself, is limited by his ability to concentrate: He can only utilize his full strength (at which point, he can lift up to 5 tons) when he has no distractions, or has managed to tune out everything around him. The less he focuses on his actions, the less he manages to use his strength.
Slam’s strength allows him to catch large objects (i.e. cars) that are thrown at him. However, his lack of invulnerability leads him to be careful, as a missed catch or an attempt to deflect the car with his arm would still lead to injury.
And, character sheet
Level 5 Hero (25 Character Points)
Faction: Resistance
Powers
Core Attribute – Super strength ( 12 points)
Type: Major
Rank: 6
Feats (6):
Super punch (offense)
Catch [catches thrown object](defense)
“Time to get outta dodge†[awesome jumping ability] (movement)
Super kick (offense)
Super head butt (offense)
“Here comes the heater!†[throw something] (offense)
Traits
Hand to Hand combat (6 points)
Type: Major
Rank: 3
Feats (3):
Street fighting (offense)
Karate (offense)
Blocking (defense)
Athletic ability (2 point)
Type: Minor
Rank: 2
Feats (1):
Increased stamina (alteration)
Meditation (5 points)
Type: Minor
Rank:5
Feats (1):
Deeeeep Breath [increases strength that Slam can use] (alteration)
Challenge
Friends and Family
Type: Minor
Rank: 2
Vulnerable (Alteration)
Green, since you're using Zealot, what would be a good way for Slam to convince Pulse to join him?
I should probably up-date it.
But I still want to see what Fedora does with it.
He works for SIGMA, most likely in some sort of interrogation department
Normally I would say just offer him something he wants
But if that doesn't work, you can always just beat the shit out of him
In either case, he'd still probably stab you in the back if it was in his best interests
The best course of action is to try to appeal to his sense of justice, breaking him out of the whole "bad boy but really just starved for attention" thing
But that's probably the most difficult of the three
He's kind of like Slam, in that he's a regular guy except for his sonic power
Yes
But you'll have to be pretty convincing
Like full-on after school special
Maaan.
look at Adder's new costume now that he is working for SIGMA
They've been pretty against other dudes joining their organization so far. I tried already.
But Quetzi, you are an amoral mercenary that will backstab anyone for the right amount of money
BOTP'd
Pulse's character sheet (work in progress)
Level 5 Villain (25 points)
Faction: Neutral
Powers
Core Attribute - Sonic Manipulation (14 points)
Type: Major
Rank: 6
Modifier: Major Increased Versatility (2 points)
Feats (12):
Shout (Offense)
Clap (Offense)
Stomp (Offense)
Stun (Defense)
Inaudible (Defense)
Misdirection (Defense)
Shatter Projectile (Defense)
Sound It Out (Look for weaknesses, used before Shutdown) (General)
Shutdown (Destroy electronic Device / Damage robotic opponents) (Offense)
Disrupt Communications (General)
Private Chat (General)
Detect Frequency (Sensory)
Traits
Street Punk (10 points)
Type: Major
Rank: 5
Feats (5):
Pickpocket (Steal Device) (General)
Grand Theft Auto (Movement)
Improvise Weapon (Alteration)
Fight Dirty (Use Device) (Offense)
Lockpick (General)
Ladies' Man (1 point)
Type: Minor
Rank: 1
Feats (1):
Charm (General)
Devices
Standard Equipment (2 points)
Type: Major
Rank: 2
Modifier: Device (-2 points)
Feats (2):
Brass Knuckles (Alteration)
Iron Pipe (Alteration)
Flaws
Cocky (-2 points)
Type: Minor
Rank: 2
Feats (1):
Underestimate Opponent (Alteration)
Codename: Asimov
Name: Dr. Robert Masterson
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Height: 8'0"
Weight: 587
Hair: none
Eyes: Green
Alignment: none
CHARACTER ABILITIES
Limitations: His strength and speed are not technically classified as "super." For example, a small sedan would give him no trouble to lift, and give a small toss. But lifting a loaded tractor trailer takes immense effort and causes his joint servos to strain and burn out if he attempt to hold it aloft for too long. His actuators are more than able to sustain this kind of weight, but the weakness, of course, lies in the joint. Also, when running, he has trouble breaking speeds in excess of 100 miles per hour, and maintaining that speed produces similar damage. As far as his shell is concerned, it is nigh unbreakable, but still quite susceptible to crushing and denting on large scales. There have been many occasions where large portions have been rendered useless and he requires the assistance of Stewart to drag him to safely and conduct a hasty field repair in order for them to retreat to safety. Also, due to his electronic nature, he is also susceptible to electro magnetic pulses. He did, however, plan for this by installing waveguides-beyond-cutoff (WBC), electric filters, RF joint doors and a complex equipotential grounding system (which more than protects against all manner of electrical impulse).
Usage: Due to his past, Asimov tends to avoid the use of conventional firepower (though he does currently have a plasma cannon from an alien droid mounted on his right shoulder). For this reason, most of his battles consist of brute force fisticuffs. Despite his heavy frame, the innate power of his kinematic chain, his actuators are able to force his body around with surprising agility (not surprising for a human, but surprising for an 8 foot tall, nearly 600 pound robot), which allows him to emerge from most battles with minimal damage.
As far as movement is concerned, he is able to leap extensive vertical heights, and combined with his augmented speed, this allows him to travel great distances by simply running and jumping. At one time, he attempted to install rockets into his feet that would allow him to fly, but the problem of fuel proved to be too great at the time of construction, so he chose to leave them as a sort of jump jet. This extends his vertical leap height by as much as 3 times, but if he does not have sufficient fuel to fire and slowing pulse as he descends, he will do extensive damage to his frame. As demonstrated in Stewart's late model propulsion system, the problem of fuel efficiency in the jump jets could have easily been solved once Asimov began harvesting parts from fallen alien mechs, but the problem now was the design of his entire frame, in terms of high speed flight. So rather than undergo a massive overhaul, he used the alien technology to provide himself with a near limitless fuel supply for his jump jets and leave it at that.
As a side effect of his height, and his lack of an organic ear, he has a series of 5 gyroscopes spread out within his frame, which will rend control of his joint servos from his body when they sense that he has become drastically off balance, which allows him to always land on his feet (and occasionally, his head, as he learned after an enemy managed to destroy two of the gyroscopes and he attempted to retreat by firing his jump jets).
CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY
In 1968, her perfected a prototype, prosthetic leg who's power to size ratio was twice that of an unaided human leg. However, he had spent an inordinate amount of time on it, and though it was complete, he had depleted their funds almost entirely. Riken became angry with his irresponsibility and left to further pursue his career as a surgeon. Hurt, poor and distraught, Masterson set out to sell his break through technology. However, the strength of the device honestly frightened doctors and manufacturers alike, and he was turned down again and again. After almost giving up completely, he received a call from a General Lockwin. Masterson was asked to meet the General the following day, and to bring the prototype. Upon meeting the General, he found that his only intent was to use his genius invention for slaughter, and that, was something Masterson simply would not have. So despite his desperate need for funds, he bid the General good day and returned to his home where his wife and daughter were waiting.
As he entered the house he noted the lack of resistance that the front door offered as he entered. Calling out his wife's name he slowly made his way up the stairs and turned towards the bedroom, where he saw his wife and daughter staring at him, frightened, crying, bound and gagged, sitting on the floor against the bed. Grabbing a lamp from the hall table, he crept into the bedroom. Turning the corner he saw one of the assailants and thrust the lamp, bulb first into his face. The man turned, yelled and blindly fired his shotgun at Masterson. Catching the slug in the side of his right knee, the blast tore his lower right leg clean off and reduced the joint of his left to utter ruin. At the sound of the blast, two other burglars entered from the side room. One grabbed their friend, who was bleeding from the eyes, while the other hastily shot the woman and child before they all retreated from the house. Now, face to face with his wife's dying body, the crippled doctor watched helpless as the life drained from her eyes. Slowly, he faded into darkness as well.
However, after not speaking for months, Dr. Riken had decided to stop by with a job offer for his old friend, only to find the slaughter freshly laid in the bedroom. When Masterson awoke in the hospital, two days later, he was briefly glad to see his old friend by his old friend by his side. Comfort turned to grief as the memories flooded back in, and grief turned to the buds of madness as he realized that both of his legs had been almost entirely removed. After months of rehabilitation and therapy, the doctor was sent to his vacant home with his wheel chair.
Five years later, in 1973, Dr. Riken received a phone call. It was Dr. Masterson and Riken was surprised by how healthy he sounded. Plans were made and Riken went to visit Masterson in his home. After a pleasant lunch in a slightly disheveled dining room, his nostalgic smile faded to stern determination as Masterson told Riken of his latest work.
"Stephen...As I'm sure you remember I completed a rather...unorthodox prosthetic shortly before..."
"Yes Rob, I remember, but I thought you destroyed them when you abandoned your work in...you kept them, didn't you."
A smile once again crept its way onto Masterson's face. "Not only did I keep them, I've improved on them, and tailored them to my...situation, specifically."
After a heated discussion of ethics, Riken agreed to help install the prosthetics. Which lead to extensive testing, adjusting and modifying until they were ready to try. Masterson insisted they drive out to the country to try them in a secluded open field. Not wanting to argue with a man that he believed more and more to be completely mad, Riken obliged. When they reached the field, Masterson exited the vehicle, stood, and began walking. Slowly, he sped into a light job, looking down at his new legs the whole time. Gradually, his speed increased, directly proportionate to the smile on his face. Soon, he was plowing through the field, pushing 60 miles per hour and howling like a mad man; the insane harbinger of the dust cloud that trailed him. Making a giant circle, he slowed and stopped standing face to face with the speechless Riken.
"Now to test the jump function!" He proclaimed. Riken could only manage to reply with a stifled grunt before Masterson was launching himself in to the sir again and again, pounding the earth into submission. Higher and higher he leaped until he reached what appeared to be a peak. Unable to accept this, he thrust himself into the air once more, traveling at least 20 feet higher than any previous attempt, and at the peak he, once more, erupted into maniacal laughter. Riken noted the sickening crack that resonated from Masterson's body upon landing, and the sound was only punctuated by the mad man's sharp inhale and abrupt ending to his laughter. His eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out on the ground. Having shattered 3 vertebrae, Riken took him to the hospital, where he was told he would never walk again. Madness dug it's claws still deeper into his mind.
Nothing was heard from the doctor for 6 years, until, in 1979, Dr. Riken received another phone call. Not wanting to even lay his eyes upon the tattered shell of his former friend, he refused to visit. But the charismatic wiles of this broken mad man eventually swayed him once more to his assistance. This time there was no beating around the bush, Masterson took Riker directly down to the basement to see his latest creation. The main part of the house was nearing complete ruin. the kitchen table and counters were piled with rubble. Magazines with the paged torn out mixed with unopened bills, topped with dishes, laden with rotting food. The place wreaked, and the smile still wrought across Masterson's cracked lips was a true testament to his mental state. Once in the basement, Masterson pulled back a sheet, to reveal a mechanical spine and once again, his hope for the eventual restoration of his old friends sanity and health won out.
This trend continued for many years. Shortly after his new spine was installed, Masterson was shot in the arm by frantic police when he decided to take to the city and test his new condition on greater heights. On that occasion, Riken had outright refused to help at all, which Masterson took as total betrayal. Severing his own injured arm with a heated circular saw, he continued his twisted work one handed, until he was able to install a temporary replacement in 1982. Once he had two hands at his disposal, he decided that a helper was needed and humans were decidedly too weak.
1985 saw the birth of Stewart, a 4 foot tall robot, with virtually unlimited repair and construction functioning. 4 gyroscopes kept Stewart balanced atop a parallel manipulator using an octahedral assembly of struts ( a.k.a. a Stewart Platform, hence the name), all placed on one large, spherical rolling caster. With this small droid by his side, the doctor's work flourished drastically. In 1986, he replaced his weaker mechanical arm with a much stronger, more fitting replacement, and in 1987, he once again laid saw to flesh in order to make room for a matching arm.
At this point, the story grows shady and broken. The doctor himself cannot tell the extent of the story, since it involves a six month stretch in which his brain was suspended in a fluid stasis, while Stewart installed it within it's new home. He had no human contact for the next 6 years, remaining locked in his basement laboratory, largely in pieces.
In 1993, he felt he was ready. Vengeance would be his after all these years of seclusion. He had tracked his families killers through the papers and murmurs of the underground until the mid eighties. One of them had been arrested and charged with the murders, but two were still at large. He had lost track of them during these last few years, while preparations were completed for his emergence. But to his horror, further investigations yielded the worst of circumstances. The one who had been convicted had been given the death penalty 5 years ago, and his two compatriots had perished as well. One had died in a drug deal gone awry and the other...lung cancer. That was simply the last straw. The doctor thought desperately clamored for someone to blame until he realized...Riken. Without Riken's assistance, the final stage of his transformation had taken entirely too long. For this reason, he set his reticle on his oldest friend.
He traveled at full tilt to the same old house his aging friend had occupied for the last 30 years. He kicked in the door and frame, howling the name of his enemy into the halls. A small young nurse came to the foyer and attempted to explain to the metal man that the Dr. Riken was very ill and restricted to his bedroom, due to the pain of his illness. However, before she could speak her full explanation grabbed her by the throat and held her high in the air.
"He knows nothing of pain...I will show him pain..."
He squeezed and her body went limp in his hand, as his mechanical hand pressed her bones to dust and blood oozed through his fingers. Stomping wildly up the stair to the bedroom, he kicked the door off the hinges and through the body of the girl in after it. Riken lay wheezing on his bed, wide eyed in horror of what he saw.
"R-Robert...*ehhhh*...what have you...done...'" he stammered between deeply struggled breaths.
"I've killed your pathetic whore of a nurse." He placed one hand on either side of Riken's head and lifted him out of bed and into the air. "And now, I'm going to kill you."
"But...why?!"
"Why?! You're weakness left me alone and betrayed! It was because of you that I can never truly punish those responsible for my slaying my family! You left me to die, alone!!"
"But Robert! I...I didn-"
"And that his how you shall die...alone..."
"NO, DON-*unngh*..."
Rikens head spun, his grayed head spinning beyond the natural range of his wrinkled neck. Masterson stood over the bodies, and as the rage faded, flashes of memories returned. His mind replaced the scene and instead of himself standing over Riken and the nurse, he saw a thug, holding a gun and standing over the bodies of his wife and daughter. He cried out and fell to his knees, the image of his wife's fading eyes returning to haunt his mind further. He cried out with his hands held above his head.
After many hours and skulking through the shadows to return home, he entered his lab and slumped in the corner. He had decided to shut himself down and have Stewart destroy him. Stewart agreed, reached into the doctors back, said goodbye and flipped the switch.
10 years later, Masterson's visual sensors flickered on. Stewart stood by his side. When he asked the small robot what he'd done, Stewart replied by saying that destroying something as sophisticated as the doctor would have been completely illogical.
"I knew you were tired, so I decided to just let you rest." Stewart said.
"But Stewart, I thought I told..." Until this moment the doctor had been looking towards the floor of the basement, but he realized that it was far brighter than he remembered. Looking up, he was astonished to see that the house that once stood above had been torn asunder, leaving the open sky to be viewed from below. "...what...what new hell is this?" He stood and looked over the top of the foundation, viewing the outstretched wasteland beyond.
"This is why I woke you" was Stewart's only response.
Eventually the two gathered what they could from the lab and took to the wastes. Not long after, they encountered a troupe of alien robots. Not at all phased by their fire power, the doctor began dispatching them with minimal effort, tearing off the occasional part and tossing it back to Stewart to be used for future modifications. Hours later, a strange trio approached the rubble. They wore bright colors and one seemed to be emanating flame. The doctor was now seated amongst the pile of destroyed foes. He had attached one of their plasma cannons to his shoulder and he had just finished replacing Stewart's caster with one of their plasma fueled propulsion units, giving him flight capabilities. As he stood, the flaming one seemed startled by his movement. The doctor simply looked down as a large ball of flame flew at him and destroyed itself on his chest plate. One of them ran swiftly up and kicked him in the face. He lost his balance for a moment but the gyroscopes sensed his lack of control and forced his servos to reposition his body, so he simply took a small step back. Clenching his metal fist, he told his assailant that he'd better explain himself before he was injured. They were taken aback by this since they had assumed him to be an enemy. After a moment of confused silence, the only one yet to attack stepped forward and spoke.
"Greetings, we are an arm of the Vanguard, are you with us or against us?"
"...Honestly...I have no idea..."
At this point they realized that he literally had no idea what was going on, so they explained briefly the situation, the last three years of war, and the stance of the Vanguard. They told him their names, which were all obviously aliases, so when they asked him his, he thought for a moment and replied simply "Asimov...and that is Stewart." pointing to the small robot hovering behind him.
For the remainder of the war, he largely fought alongside the Vanguard, but did his best to stay unattached. Once the aliens were defeated, he took the wastes once more, in search of greater and more advanced alien technologies. The Vanguard did their best to force him to stay, but he would not have it. Occasionally he will receive messengers sent from them to try to convince him to pledge his allegiance, but they are always dismissed. Still, he maintains little knowledge of the actual situation, all he knows is that he feels he can not trust the Vanguard. Whether or not he feels they need to be stopped is yet to be seen, and truly unknown, even by Asimov himself. To this day he travels through the waste, usually running full tilt, or leaping great distances, while sending Stewart ahead to scout the terrain and scan for lifeforms. Often people of the wastes will see Stewart, and look to the horizon from whence he came, to try to get a glimpse of the mighty and somewhat elusive Asimov.
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Now I just need to figure out how to recruit him.
Because as a new member, I don't really have anyone to work with yet.
Maybe actually explain to him what's going on and try to get him to join some group or another.
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He spends his time in the wastelands, the Delta Zones.
Slam is from a Beta Zone. Just a regular kid, except for the powers.
I want to join up with Pulse, since both characters are really similar.
You guys do realize it'd be real easy to form your own group of merc's for hire right? Just throwing this idea out there, instead of having to scrounge for a team and beg other groups. Plus you'd become more lucrative if you worked together, charge more for a group rate sorta thing.
So he's hiding underground and sabotaging SUN, Vanguaed and SIGMA operations and stealing information. He is also crazy and hates the SUN for being partially responsible for the death of his father (creator). He's modified his body to the point that it barely resembles anything human anymore without a big, tattered brown trenchcoat and an old stetson hat and his bandages. He gave up what little humanity he had so that the rest of the world might regain it through his actions and the actions of others.
I'd try it out if I wasn't about 90% sure I'd lose interest in a week, though, because that always happens to me with this kind of thing and it sucks