Join The Legionnaires

[Malkav]

Call Sign: El Jefe

Gender: male

Location: Drifting somewhere in Mexico

Age: Most say late 20s to early 30s

Personal Appearance: The Sexy...(see attachment)

Personality: El Jefe is a man with a heart of gold, yet he shows a cold outer exterior. Few can easily comprehend the complexity of this, man, but this personality is swayed heavily by personal justice. At times he can be a loose canon, who is understood by few, but other times, he is very much the pure of heart. He speaks of himself in the third person and goes into monologue about himself quite often(spoken like a true, El Jefe). He also likes to flirt and impress the ladies.

History: El Jefe was born without a name, a lonesome and poor boy left to grow in the Ghettos of Tiajuana, soon he was brought to an orphanage where he quickly became the center of attention, there, he became El Jefe(The Boss), because everyone in the orphanage knew, he was El Jefe. Although he was raised among friends, the orphanage life was hard for him, he picked up knife fighting and the art of the gun quickly, learning from many fights as a kid. Soon into his teens, El Jefe's orphanage was threatened by a gang, when one of the boys from the orphanage was killed, El Jefe took his revenge upon the gang by taking his gun and slaughtering most of the gang's members. His victory, was short lived, as the surviving members of the gang burned the orphanage down.

All that was left of the orphanage was one of El Jefe's friend's harmonica, still smug within its hiding place in the base of a nearby tree. As the federalis arrived, El Jefe was blamed with the arson and murder, he escaped them to become a fugitive. With a heavy heart, El Jefe tracked down the last surviving members and killed them, and vowed an oath on the blood of his dead family, that he would not ever let anyone have taken from the what was taken from him. He wanders the land now, a drifter and mercenary, helping those who would need his help, who would need the assistance of El Jefe.

Special Skills or Abilities: Has an exteme amount of skills with firearms, unarmed combat, and knife fighting

Player?s Availability: Nightly; or at least every other night.

Rating: M-SVL

[Blayze]

[b][size=1]Codename/Callsign: [/size][/b][size=1]Impulse

[b]Gender: [/b]Male

[b]Location: [/b]England

[b]Age: [/b]Unknown

[b]Personal Appearance: [/b]Impulse stands at around 6'6" tall, with a wiry build, but his sinewy muscle disguises quite admirable strength. His skin is pale, almost glowing white, and his eyes are a pale, steely grey, although they are completely sightless. His hair is black with some silver streaks running through, and falls down gracefully into his eyes.

Firstly, he wears a sleeveless black t-shirt, with elbow-length fingerless gloves running up his arms. These are black, and they have red oriental dragons embroidered into them. His trousers are black and slightly baggy, with lots of pockets to carry various items, and his boots are thick black leather, with soft soles, making it easier for him to run around without being heard. Over his t-shirt he wears a plain black leather jacket.

On the index finger of his left hand he wears a chunky pewter ring, with strange symbols carved into it, and he wears a pewter chain around his neck, with a small, circular pendant hanging from it, enscribed with the same symbols as on his ring.

[b]Personality/Behaviour: [/b]Impulse is a man who has been through many traumas, and they have very much scarred him inside. He is a bitter, twisted individual, who has no qualms about taking lives, or extreme violence. When he is around other people, he is quiet, and when he does talk, his only comments are bitter, dry humour. He does have a sense of humour, but usually the jokes are directed [i]at[/i] someone rather than to laugh with them, and this sense of humour has been described as very black and even slightly morbid.

[b]Personal History: [/b]Impulse used to be called Jake Vincent, and he was a happy child, making lots of friends due to his chirpy personality. He grew up with his loving family, and by the time he was twenty, he also had a long-term girlfriend, and they had decided to get married as soon as possible.

He was on his way to see the church they were to be married in with his parents and his fiancee, when a manic driver crashed into their car, running it off a bridge. Jake's parents and his girlfriend were killed on impact, but Jake lived. However, shards of glass had flown into his eyes, blinding him. He stumbled out of the car wreck, and, searching around only with his senses of smell and touch, he found the driver, and beat him to death out of rage. Then he collapsed, and when he woke up, he was in hospital.

There was nothing the doctors could do to save his eyes, but they healed the rest of his injuries, and sent him home. He wandered around in a daze for a long time, and developed a heroin addiction, which resulted in him becoming almost completely dependant on the drug.

His fiancee's parents found him in a darkened room, where it looked like he had been living for weeks, almost comatose from drug use. They took him to rehab, thinking him to be the closest thing they had to a child of their own now. He eventually got over his addiction almost completely, only needing occasional shots of heroin to keep himself sane.

He has since decided to stop mourning, and it was not until then that he discovered his strange ability. Something was jogged in the car crash that made him able to fire telekinetic impulses. He knew that he had to use this ability to wipe out all evil from the planet, so he gave himself a new identity, completely wiping away all memory of Jake Vincent. He had become Impulse.

However, his methods of wiping out evil are not strictly heroic, and he has no problems with extreme violence. The only thing that holds him back is his slight heroin addiction, but he is working to overcome that.

[b]Special Skills/Abilities: [/b]Impulse is, as mentioned above, able to fire telekinetic impulses from his mind. He mostly uses this ability in combat situations, knocking enemies backwards and throwing things around, but occasionally he uses it for other purposes, such as pulling switches and so forth. He has also trained himself so that he has impressive acrobatic talent, and he is not too bad at hand-to-hand fighting either. He uses his other senses, which are now highly developed, to counteract his lack of sight.

[b]Player's Availability: [/b]Pretty much every night

[b]Rating: [/b]M-VL
[/size]

[Kuroshin13]

[SIZE=1][B]Code Name / Call Sign:[/B] Shade

[B]Gender:[/B] Female

[B]Location: [/B] North East America

[B]Age:[/B] 18

[B]Personal Appearance:[/B] Standing in front of a cracked, junked mirror, long, light-colored fingers gripped the hilt of a small knife. The shining blade cut through strands of ebony hair, held buy another hand. As the cold, blank grey eyes stared at what pieces of glass were left of the abandoned mirror; her waist-length locks became a ruff-cut shoulder length. Tossing the mirror aside, the girl turned on her black sneakered heels (the knife sliding silently into its hiding place), emerging into the light of the street from the alleyway. Her skin wasn't pale, but not tan either. The black jeans had multiple pockets to them, perfect for holding many "small" items, and were ripped around the bottom rim, along with the knees. She wore a loose, boy's style dark purple shirt that was a bit dirty from normal activities. It hit the two large scars on her upper back. The girl stood 5'1", a bit short for her age.

[B]Personality/Behavior: [/B] Shade is the ?Loner? girl that no one gets to know. She looks cold and indifferent on the outside, witch would be exactly correct on the inside. Cold hearted and some times a bit calculating. Her gaze, though always an Icy blankness, has been said to pierce through the heart and soul (if they had one) of anyone who met it directly, immediately shutting them up, or stop dead in their tracks. It was often the last thing seen if provoked.

Her demeanor is usually that of the typical pessimistic person on a bad day. Hands in the pockets, feet shuffling a little as she walked, and head bent staring at the ground. Even on a crowed N.Y.C sidewalk. Her reflexes and agility were good, but better was her hearing. Unmatched by any, some unfortunate guy (fatally for him), once commented that they should be pointed like an elf?s from some movie or another. You could call it a ?quick to kill?, but not that literally extreme.

Although far from monotone, Shade?s voice never rises or falls dramatically with feelings or emotions. She?s always relaxed, in any situation. Often maybe just leaning against the wall casually with arms crossed and eyes down, or sitting on some rooftop staring into space.

[B]
Personal History:[/B]Back at the age of 6, her parents moved with her from Italy, to Pensylvania. The night of their arrival, boxes started being unpacked as her mother started to cook up a good old Italian tradition.
?Fatina, andi alla negozio compare pane??(Fatina, will you go to the store and buy bread?) Fatina means little fairy. Her parents nicknamed her that because her lively, bright blue eyes made her look like one. Of course, the girl was happy to help out. Since she spoje so little English, it took a while. Upon returning home, the building was a blazed, with a large amount of cops and the Fire Department. Her parents were dead and being zipped in body bags to be put in some van. She no longer existed, and never did as far as anyone knew. She ran.

Three Scary days and a storm later she came upon an Old Physic?s shop, who gave her shelter from the heavy rain. ?I see great things in your future, and great sacrifices as well. You have a talent for the Arts.? It turned out that the physic was a witch instead. Handing Fatina a velvet purple book with black leather bindings, she taught the little girl basics. Fatina was a quick learner, and time flew by. After the long storm had passed, the witch presented her with a ceremonial Dagger, which Shade has kept to this very day. She was on her way, living the streets ever since.
She made her way through towns and states all over North East America, honing her skills and doing what she needed to in order to survive. Her favorite weapons became daggers/knives, and various sized bombs. She became an Outstanding street fighter, often going against others in a betted ?match? to get some cash. Down right theft wasn?t off-limits either.

On a rooftop one night, the already cold hearted pre-teen flipped through to the summoning spells once again; an ancient, and sometimes considered dark, magic. She had practiced others before, and successfully too, but tonight was a first try at a more difficult level. Setting everything up properly, Fatina preformed the spell. It worked perfectly. That?s where everything started changing. ?You are too weak little girl?This mistake will kill you.? The demon laughed as it fluttered between existences. ?I don?t care, so stop ya yaking.? ?Oh?? The demon got a good look from the piercing grey eyes. ?Ah, I see...Your body will do just fine to reside in. I will make you stronger.? It finished. Or at least, it said something along those lines. Consciousness wasn?t being very ?social? at the moment. Not like She had any energy left to resist, the demon had ?possessed? her in a way, residing into the deep depths of the girl?s mind instead of just taking over. That was five years ago.


[B]Special Skills or Abilities:[/B] Magic. Not wicca though. Demonically posessed, her movement may become almost slightly puppet-like if the demon fully takes over. It resides in the depthes of her mind, and can be talked to mentaly.

[B]Player?s Availability:[/B] Close to DAILY

[B]Which Otaku Thread Rating:[/B] Um, I guess mostly PG13...with language and possibly some nice detailed violence...uh, lets go closer to the M side to be safe...just in case...[/SIZE]

[conpiracymonki]

[size=1]
[b]Callsign:[/b] Face

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Location:[/b] Manchester, UK

[b]Age:[/b] 17? 19? Somethingteen, anyway.

[b]Appearance:[/b]
Face is Face but he's.. well, faceless. You understand, right? There's not much to say about his physical appearance considering he's totally invisible. He stands at about an unsure 5'7 with a lean late-teen build. He generally sticks to wearing a hoody just so people know he's there. That, and he catches a cold easily.

[img]http://www.baysideblades.com.au/inline_skating_pics/skating_clothes/skate_hoodies/rejected_sticky_brown_hoody.jpg[/img]

[b]Personality and behaviour:[/b]
[i]Excerpt taken from a recent interview of the newer members of The Legionnaires[/i]
"How would I describe myself? How would I describe my.. self. Uh.. I wasn't expecting to uh, to be hit with that one to be honest. At least, notnot straight away. Quite a big.. quite a that's a hard one. I think I think I'll.. can I get back to you on that one later on in this um interview, yeah. No, no time? But we just we just got this thing under way. Oh.. I see.. I'm sorry I had um no idea. That that you uh.. I didnt realise you guys had more of us to er, to question today.

"So how would I describe myself.. well. I'd say I was pretty confident, right? I mean, some people say they say that I lack confidence but I don't think so. I mean, I'm helping to uh to save the world, right. You need to um to be sure of yourself to be able to pull off something crazy like, crazy as that, right? I know you're thinking 'oh.. he can't but he can't even talk straight'.. right? But that's not that's not confidence like- like how I see it. That's just that's my social I'm not a confident talker, if you get me. I'm not a good speaker. But I um I have confidence in myself, you know? Self confidence.. that's what I have. I'm pretty self-confident is what, is what I meant. And I think that's something you uh.. you need to make it in The Legionnaires. And heart. You need a lot of heart. Sometimes sometimes you really struggle to fig- to figure out why you're, why you even bother. I think that covers your question well enough. Adequately."

Make whatever assumptions you like out of that.

[b]Personal history:[/b]
One of the younger members of The Legionnaires and one of the few without a alter-ego; Face has always been known as Face. He was born into the average working class family wherever and that probably would've been the end of that, were it not for the fact that he was born completely see-through. Lord knows how they cut that thing out not being able to see where it even was. It was the c-section chameleon and that was reason enough to spend the first year of life in hospital undergoing extensive tests. Apparently 'it' turned out to be a perfectly healthy premature baby boy. Just another anomaly to add to a string of recent wild mutations around the world in the late 80s.

After leading a very uneventful life, Face was recently offered a place in a medium-sized experimental training scheme for the younger generation with the possibility of eventual drafting into The Legionnaires. Being such a rare case, Face was easily accepted into The Legionnaires with the bulk of his training involving infiltration and complex system-cracking and with almost no focus on combat situations or encountering the enemy.

[b]Abilities and other (ir)relevant information:[/b]
[i]Permanent invisibility[/i]
Would be great if most of Face's missions didn't involve naked espionage. His low tolerance for cold temperatures can make him prone to being nearly discovered in the especially colder and/or wetter regions of the world due to eventual fits of sneezing and sometimes very serious episodes of coughing.

[i]Excessive medication dependancy[/i]
Having been born prematurely, Face has a weaker-than-average immune system and seems to be constantly on the verge of a flu fever. He heavy relies on cold and cough medication and is never too far from a case of his anti-histamines, expectorants, cough suppressants and nasal decongestants. This can sometimes affect him mentally, causing drowsiness.

[b]Availability:[/b] Twice a week.. something like that. Willing to do upto 3 a week but may only be able to do one post a week at times.

[b]Rating: [PG][/b] as a rough guideline although some posts may be [b][M][/b] due to violence
--

Tried my best to be a little different, lol. Put up enough weaknesses and justified as much of what I wrote as I could. Hopefully the character is developed enough for you guys to kinda see where he could go.. left plenty of space for character development.

:animesigh Been a while since I've been interested in anything around here, lol.[/size]

[Sage Kaley]

[B]Code Name/Call Sign:[/B] Echo

[B]Gender (If Applicable):[/B] Female

[B]Location:[/B] Greece

[B]Age:[/B] At this time, about 27

[B]Personal Appearance (Images are acceptable):[/B] [URL=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v497/sagekaley/echo1.jpg ]Here is a Face Shot of Echo[/URL]
Echo was born this time in a small, melting pot family in America. She has long, fizzy auburn hair that no matter how much straightening she tries, it always puffs out. Still it looks rather nice on her so she doesn?t complain too much. Her dark eyes have never impressed her much; she prefers the ones she had in her previous life so sometimes she wears blue contacts. Echo supports an average build for a woman her age, her legs a bit more built than others thanks to all the walking she does. Standing at roughly 5?7??, she?s also of an average height. Her clothes are simple summer dresses with the wide brimmed straw hats and sometimes she will sport a tank top and denim shorts on her walks.

As far as anything else goes, she has a tattoo on her back that reads ?Echo? with the Greek symbol for Theta and often paints her long nails in varying shades of green. She also wears several gold bracelets and rings with a matching golden pendant hanging on her chest.

[B]Personality/Behavior:[/B] Echo may seem like she should be sad but some things never change. When in the company of people she can be quite happy and in fact, become much like her former self. She will laugh and sing, even debate and engage in conversations. Echo has become very good at manipulating her curse to allow her to carry on fairly decent discussions. She is still charismatic and cheerful, if a bit arrogant and still has a tendency to fall hard in love. Echo is after all a hopeless romantic. Her heart, however, remains bound to her first love Narcissus although she has been trying hard, and slowly succeeding, to move on.

When she has free time, Echo loves to write and continues her book series which has been faring well on the Best Seller?s list. Writing is not only the one true way she can express everything she?s feeling but a great job for her. She also loves to sing, play music with piano and violin being her choices and still goes out for nature walks every Saturday morning.

In battle she becomes more reserved and hangs back, waiting until a useful spell or attack has been done before echoing it. Otherwise, unless someone casts something useful she stays out of the way.

[B]Personal History:[/B] Echo has endured sadness all her life. She was once a joyful nymph whose greatest pleasure was to talk. Sometimes she annoyed her fellow nymphs with her constant jabber but she always had the juiciest gossip (?I hear Pericles is secretly Hera?s lover?) and a charismatic nature that made listening to her enjoyable. One day however, she used her powers to stop a rampaging Hera from discovering her husband Zeus? latest case of adultery. When Hera discovered her plot, she punished poor Echo by taking away her only love: Speech. Now she can only repeat the last words spoken. She fell into a depression but soon found a new thing or rather person to distract herself with.

One day in the forest she met the handsome young hunter named Narcissus. She tried hard to win his heart, to even speak with him but he repealed her away. Her heart broke and she hid in a cave until she withered away to nothing. Sadly she could not die because of Hera?s curse and instead was bound to echo still. Narcissus also met an untimely fate and so Echo watched her love waste away into death.

From there she continued to echo around the world until finally one day, Zeus took pity upon her, for she had tried so hard to help him and he made a deal with her. She was granted a new body, mortal this time under the condition that she still carry out Hera?s curse. With her second chance at life Echo spent most of her time perfecting the curse and using it to her advantage. She soon found it was easier to learn trades and that she was a natural singer, learning to time the echoes so that it sounded as though she were singing along. Not content with one lifetime, Zeus granted her soul the ability of reincarnation.

She lived many lifetimes but had only recently used her powers for battle. Echo left her current family on her 18th birthday, always preferring to move back to Greece as soon as she could. She went around for some time there, stopping simple crimes by mimicking the criminals own fighting techniques. The Legionnaires saw her potential as a team-player and recruited her immediately. That day, though she had endured so much, she finally felt as though the curse was actually a beautiful, wonderful gift.

[B]Special Skills or Abilities:[/B] Like Echo?s name implies, she has the ability to ?echo? or mimic another player?s abilities. However, because of the punishment she endures under Hera?s wrath, she can only mimic the last used power. For example, were someone to use a healing spell first, Echo could also then use the spell but only for that one time, only one echo. She is cursed to always echo the last word said, thus she can mimic the last used spell.

She can, however, use some form of simple martial arts?mostly the dodging?though she would rather not risk it. Resorting to it could very easily mean death to her and so she tends not to fight alone. Echo is at her best when playing off someone else?s strength.

On top of this she also has an accelerated learning ability, although it is only because she can repeat techniques as often and as perfectly as necessary in the right cases.

[B]Player?s Availability (How often will you be able to post? There is no such thing as too much or too little):[/B] I start college soon but I?m sure I?ll be able to post at least once if not three times a week.

[B]Which Otaku Thread Rating Do You Expect Your Posts To Fall Under? (E - Everyone, PG - Parental Guidance, M - Mature):[/B] I expect to be between PG and M, whatever the story calls for at the time.


-----------------------------
OOC: What can I say, I love myths and she would be very fun to play. I look forward to this ^^

[Ezekiel]

[SIZE=1]The only time I?m certain I?ll be away without computer access is the 13th to the 23rd, obviously that isn?t going to affect my posting too much. Apart from that I should be able to post pretty often.

When it comes to post guidance I?d say that mine are usually at the PG/M mark as I like me a little gore ^_^;

[color=#F84E20][CENTER][B]Code Name / Call Sign:[/B] Era
[B]Gender (If Applicable):[/B] Female
[B]Location:[/B] The Yorkshire Moors
[B]Age:[/B] No one knows, but she appears to be in her late twenties.

[B]Appearance:[/B] Era, a woman shrouded in mystery, has the face of a woman who has no fears, nothing to hold her back and infinite knowledge. Her skin is a pale colour, seeing as she has spent her life in forests or caves, and her thick, black hair only succeeds in making her seem even paler, almost ill. She has pale grey eyes without pupils making anyone who sees her up close assume that she is blind. In essence, she is, because her sight is not that of normal humans. (Look to Abilities for explanation.)

Standing at and impressive 5?9??, Era is an imposing figure no matter where she chooses to reside and it is because of this that she has chosen the life of isolation. Always wearing black or rich purple clothes as well as a light but warm black cape, Era seems as if she is trapped in medieval times. She has been banished from many towns in her past due to the fact that she looks, and acts, like a witch.

Her hands are slender and her fingers are long, tipped by square-cut nails always painted black. Era?s long face is framed by her black hair, cut into a bob, and her high cheek bones only add to the aristocratic and removed appearance. Her lips are thin and pale pink, seeming to droop down in a constant frown. All of these attributes, however, add up to an elegant and strangely attractive appearance. Most men that Era have met have found themselves being oddly drawn to her which only makes the women even more certain of her being a witch.

[B]Personality/Behaviour:[/B] Era, being the recluse that she is, isn?t the most talkative of people. She is the kind of person who would much rather prefer to sit back and listen to people rather than make a show of herself by talking too much. She is not shy, by any means, but likes the idea of collecting knowledge in the shadows while others are not aware of her.

With knowledge that surpasses many, Era only speaks when she feels that she can contribute to a conversation and only shows her true wisdom when she is around those she feels comfortable with. On more than one occasion she has been ignored, laughed at and thrown out of places because of the way she contradicts people. It is because of this that Era doesn?t trust normal mortals and prefers to live alone.

She can be serious when needed and in battle Era has the ability to shut out all other noises and people around her, concentrating only on what she can do. The thing that lets Era down is the fact that she finds it very hard to get along with people and she doesn?t work well in a team. Finding someone she feels comfortable around is very hard for her.

[B]Personal History[/B]: I can?t remember where I came from or indeed how my powers came to be so powerful. I can?t even remember whether or not I was born blind. There are key events that I remember throughout my life, my date of birth and family aren?t one of them. The first memory, a hazy one, I must add, is how I discovered my powers. By this point I was blind and I?m still of the mind that my determination to see the world is what drove my powers out into the open. It was hard at first, a slow and painful process, but as time went on and I realised how to harness my abilities, their strength and my confidence grew. At first I couldn?t picture things, but it was as if I knew what they were like in my mind. A hazy picture, like I was looking through smoke, if you will.

As I grew I learnt that my powers stretched far beyond what I had ever comprehended and just a simple tap on the shoulder was enough to send my mind searching for the person?s past and future. At first I couldn?t control it and it seemed as though too much power was leaking from me at once, but after practice and eventual isolation (my parents would not tolerate my ?hideous lies?) I mastered my abilities and moved far away to somewhere quiet and peaceful to hone my skills.

That is how I came to be here, in the Yorkshire Moors. It is a wild and unforgiving place where no other human will dare to set foot, especially during the harsh winters. But I found a patch of forest and built myself a hut, another test for my ?mind?s eyes?, as I call it.

I tried to fit in when I was certain that my powers would do people no harm, but it seems that I am unfortunate enough to have the appearance of a witch. I guess the fact that my parents kept me shut in from the world was a damaging blow to my severely lacking social skills.

On more than one occasion I have been threatened, even beaten, by women and men who did not tolerate that which they could not understand. Of course, that was many, many years ago, before the idea of ?heroes? and ?legends? had even come to be.

As time has gone on I seem to be caught in a rut. As my abilities allow me to bend time to suit myself I have, through no fault of my own, managed to keep myself in a time pocket, of sorts, where I do not age or change, only my knowledge grows with the ever-advancing technology.

I?ve come to realise, in the recent years, that this existence is a pitiful and lonesome one and the idea of finding others who tolerate me and my delicate situation would be like a dream come true. Perhaps I should leave home to explore every so often.

[B]Special Skills or Abilities:[/B] Era senses things, feels the past, future and present of everything around her. It makes her aware of things and allows her to eventually form images over time. She can see how people will be in the many years of their life to come, some even have such a strong path set a head of them that Era can see their deaths. She considers this ability to be far greater than the loss of sight she has incurred over her many years.

Era is also a ?Time Witch?, as some used to call her. She can bend time, go into the past or even alter the future. This power is terrible and Era has to be very careful not to abuse it. She fights enemies by sensing their ?Life Lines?, plucking out the strand as they appear in her minds eye. It does not mean that she will kill her enemy, but this ability gives her the chance to make a life altering change in their past. If Era is not careful and uses the ability too often she risks the chance of hurting many innocent people. It is because of this that Era prefers not to fight but is keen to help plan and strategise in any way she can.[/CENTER][/COLOR][/SIZE]

[Lord Dante]

[B]code name/call sign:[/B] Wrath

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Location:[/B] Constantly Changing

[B]Age:[/B] 50? (no-one really knows)

[B]Personal Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://elfwood.lysator.liu.se/art/l/a/laurac/lestat.jpg.html][Click][/URL]

Wrath Stands at around 6'1". He has a lean build with pasty, pale skin, His shining white-golden hair reaches to just beyond his shoulders. Wrath favors wearing either loose, baggy pristine white clothes (pictured) or complete black.

[B]Personality/behaviour:[/B] Wrath is a headstrong individual, hardly ever diverting from his chosen course of action. Having grown up among the aristocracy, a strong sense of order, abiding by (or at least appearing on the surface to be) the laws of whichever country he is in ruthlessly. However, the aristocracy also instilled in wrath a deep Contempt for those he perceives to be weaker or of lower stature than himself - (Wrath tries to fight this. reasons why are in his personal history)

[B]Personal History:[/B] Wrath was born as Lestat dra'kul into an English Aristocratic family. In his early years, wrath's parents drilled into him that he was above the mass population. Convinced him that being an aristocrat was one step less than divinity. For a long time Lestat believed this, and worked alongside his father, furthering the family's business (collecting and selling rare items/artefacts) Until one day. Lestat overheard his parents talking.

"The boy is coming along nicely. almost a complete sociopath" (father's voice)

"I can't believe you're going through with this ridiculous plan of yours, I mean he's your son!" (mother's voice)

"That is immetirial! we are going to need a new leader for "schwarzkreuz" soon. I cannot live forever..." (Father's voice)

"I know that... but still. why must it be him?" (mother's voice)

"Because I can trust no-one anymore. even those of the sacred order. The onlything still keeping us together is a strong leader. My influence is waning..." (father's voice)

"why can't we just give it up? many people are no-longer aware of our existance. They beleve that we ceased to exist 666 years ago. We are no closer to accheiving our goal..." (mother's voice)

There was a fleeting pause, and then the sickening sound of a fist on flesh. A few harsh words muttered in a language lestat couldn't understand. And then silence. Lestat wandered away to his quarters, his mind reeling. Was he just a pawn in some game of his father's?

Lestat, having lost all belief in his father and the aristocracy, set out to ruin his father, and discover anything he could about the "schwarzkreuz" that he had heard about. Lestat began with his father's buisness.

At first, lestat just fiddled with the books, paying more than his father would authorise for artefacts. lestat's meddling subtly grew for years, siphoning off funds and gazumping artifacts for his own "buisness".

One day, a bedraggled old man, clearly nering the cusp of life brought an item to sell to Lestat. Handing the box over, the man began to talk in a language Lestat Didn't recognise. The only words he could make out were "blood" and "curse". Lestat paid the mumbled words no heed.

Earlier that day, Lestat had lacerated his finger - It hadn't quite healed. He opened the box the man had given him. Inside were three small gems. Blood-red and voidlike black melded into one horrifying color. Drawn into their terrifying presence, lestat went to pick one up. A droplet of blood fell from his lacerated finger.

What happens next is not known. Lestat was never seen again. ([B]OOC:[/B] The gems meld into his wrists and forehead)

[B]Special skills/abilities:[/B] Wrath has the ability to meld into shadow. he can freely travel between areas of shadow, and is able to completely dissapear in darkness, (wrath can hide anywhere where there is a shadow, if there is more than one shadow, he can travel between them) The gems' supposed power also gives wrath the ability to manipulate energy, turning pure, raw energy into whatever he choses (most often a shaft of energy, used as a blade, or a ball of energy, used as a projectile. but almost anything is possible) Wrath's abilities however have a mjor setback, they are fueled by blood. Wrath must sate his bloodthirst in order to utilise his abilities, and so must prey on the living.

[B]Expected Otaku thread rating:[/B] Most likely M

[B]Player availability:[/B] At the very least, twice a week.

([B]OOC:[/B] Sorry it's not better, but this is the best i can think of at the moment.)

[DDG]

[COLOR=navy][b]Code Name / Call Sign-[/b] Vinovka

[b]Gender (If Applicable)-[/b] Female

[b]Location-[/b] United States of America

[b]Age-[/b] 28

[b]Personal Appearance (Images are acceptable)-[/b] [url=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/7e/Sniperwolf.jpg]Click.[/url]
176 centimeters tall. Blond hair and blue eyes. The sniper rifle in the picture is a Heckler & Koch PSG-1. Picture is an artist's rendition of what Vinovka is assumed to look like. She has never been caught on camera and eye witnesses can never give an accurate or consistent description of her.

While "hunting" she has been known to wear the very attire featured in the picture, however when she is hanging out with her friends or otherwise socializing, she wears t-shirts and jeans, along with a black trench coat on particularly cold nights.

[b]Personality/Behavior-[/b] ?There?s nothing wrong with killing someone. After all, animals do it everyday and when it comes down to it, aren?t we just highly intelligent animals? It?s not murder unless it?s unjustified.?

?I?m not a killer, I?m just a protector of the people.?

Vinovka is revered as a self-proclaimed, ?protector of the people?. Her morals justify the act of killing another human being. She targets only those who she says are ?wholly deserving of the wonderful embrace of death.? Anyone whose actions have harmed ?her people? will end up on her hit list, scrutinized and carefully studied before ultimately being killed. Once a person has made her hit list, in her eyes, there can be no redemption. Nothing that person does in an attempt to get in her good graces can stop her from taking them out.

In her words, ?The damage has already been done. May Death be your savior.?

Vinovka will kill even a child, if that child is truly a danger to ?her people?.

She tends to be reserved and, if not for her attractiveness, would go completely unnoticed by everyone around her. Despite her looks, she is oddly capable of blending in with a crowd when she wants to and is known to disappear into the shadows unexpectedly.

Though her morals justify murder, she is highly against torture, preferring to give her targets a quick and painless death. However, if her target has inflicted torturous acts upon ?her people?, she will not hesitate to create a slow, painful death for her target.

She keeps her social life as far away as possible from her ?work? and isn?t fond of dating.

On a side note, Vinovka hates to be called Vin or Vinny. "I am Vinovka. Not Vin. Not Vinny. Vinovka."

[b]Personal History-[/b]
?You see that man, sweetie??

?Yes, Daddy.?

?It?s men like him who made Mommy die.?

The young girl stares up at her father with round, blue eyes. ?How Daddy? What did he do??

?He raised the insurance rates.?

?But what does that have to do with Mommy??

A small smile finds its way onto the father?s lips as he stares through the barrel of a sniper rifle. ?Mommy and Daddy couldn?t afford health insurance anymore, so the insurance company stopped covering us.? His pointer finger inches onto the trigger. ?Then Mommy got into that accident and Daddy couldn?t afford to pay for the operation Mommy needed.? He pulls back the trigger and watches as a bullet slams into the forehead of the man.

The girl stands patiently off to the side as her father carefully disassembles the rifle.

?That man is the reason that Mommy?s heart stopped working??

The father places each piece of the rifle inside a black case resembling an ordinary briefcase. ?Yes. And now he has been given the death he deserves. An eye for an eye, a life for a life.?


Her father had liked saying that. ?An eye for an eye, a life for a life.? It was his catchphrase. He said it was what justified his killing and maiming. That if he didn?t say it after every kill or every handicapping, God would punish him and send him to Hell.

Vinovka didn?t believe in God. She tried to, for her father, but she just didn?t believe there was such a thing as ?God?. Her father had understood and told her it was okay, that not everyone believed in God. She still tried to believe anyway to be just like her father.

Her mother had died while Vinovka was young; almost too young to remember her death. The most she actually remembered of her mother was what her father told her, every night before Vinovka went to sleep.

Vinovka went to school for a few years reluctantly. She finally convinced her father to home school her around the time Vinovka was going into third grade. She was seven at the time.

Her learning began with her father?s story of how they came from a long line of ?liberators?. ?From the day we?re born ?till the day we die, we?ll protect the people. It?s our family?s destiny.? It went on to her father explaining exactly how what their family did wasn?t murder, that they weren?t criminals. All the deaths at their hands were justified in the eyes of God.

When she was nine, she shot her first sniper rifle. She was a natural; her aim was perfect and her tactics flawless. Camouflage was next on her father?s list of teaching subjects. It didn?t take long before Vinovka knew how to blend in with any environment and could go unnoticed by even the sharpest, most trained eye. Her father had praised her saying that she was going to be ?the best damn sniper this family?s ever seen.?

At ten, a massive inheritance became hers. The money belonged to Vinovka?s grandfather, her mother?s father. He had been ill ever since the death of his daughter and when he finally died, he gave his fortune to his one and only granddaughter.

Vinovka knew that she and her father had been poor, but she?d never minded. Now they had more money than they could have ever imagined. Her father knew the kinds of things that money did to people; he killed those kinds of people every day. So he made the inheritance into another lesson: he told Vinovka all about how money corrupted great minds and that ?the greedy pigs in today?s world are going to be the downfall of us all.? Vinovka opted to put the money into a savings account. She said that ?I would rather we remain poor than become like the men we hunt.? Her father had agreed; it was a wise decision.


?Father?? The house was eerily quiet. It was six o?clock in the evening; her father should have been making dinner but there were no sounds coming from the kitchen. Vinovka walked lightly down the hall and peered around the doorway, into the kitchen. Empty. No Father cooking their dinner.

She walked a few more paces and stopped at her father?s bedroom door. It was open slightly, a bad sign. Her father never left his bedroom door open. Vinovka pushed the thin wooden door open just enough for her to slip inside.

The room was completely dark but Vinovka could still see the limp body of her father, sprawled across the floor. The red trail of blood from the center of his forehead told Vinovka more than she needed to know. Her father was dead.

?An eye for an eye, a life for a life,? she murmured, tears welling up in her eyes. She kneeled next to the bed, clasping her hands together and praying for the first time in her life. Praying with all her might that her father had made it to Heaven.

Vinovka could not begin to guess who had found out about her father?s ?business? and had ultimately came to kill him. She knew it wasn?t suicide. If he had committed suicide, he would have made dinner for Vinovka first, then went into his bedroom and shut his door to commit suicide before his pride and joy came home. No, her father had been mur . . . [i]Was it justified?[/i] She asked herself. [i]It could have been . . . but it might not have been.[/i] She decided to just leave her father?s death at ?killed?. Not murdered, not whacked, not slain, not polished off . . . just killed.


She?d written her will that night. Immediately after burying her father?s body in the backyard and constructing a tombstone from nearby rocks. It had been a short will, but it was all she wanted done after her death.

[i]I wish for my body to be cremated and the ashes spread all over the land. I wish for my sniper rifle to be placed on display in a museum. I wish for the money in my savings account to be given to funds to help the people.[/i]

Wanting it to be official, the twelve year-old had traveled into the city and visited a law firm, paid for a lawyer and gotten the lawyer to finalize her will. The lawyer had been a little baffled that a twelve year-old was worried about her will at that age, but he didn?t question her, didn?t ask about why a twelve year-old was shooting a sniper rifle and didn?t ask how much money there was in the savings account.


?And she?s been traveling the country ever since then, upholding her family?s ?business?.?

?Wow, just . . . wow,? the reporter was shocked. ?Why did she tell you this??

The interviewee shrugged. ?I asked, she told. We were pretty close at that time. I wanted to know more about her. I didn?t realize . . . how much there was under her exterior.?

The reporter was in the middle of writing another line in his notepad when he stopped. He shook his head and pushed the notepad across the table to the other man. ?No, I?m sorry. Hearing all about her and . . . her ?business? . . . I can?t publish this.?

?Why not? You?ll be famous.?

The reporter smiled. ?Exactly. I?ll become rich and greedy.?

The other man smiled back. ?I get it. You think you?ll become the exact kind of person she?s put her entire life into exterminating.?

?Yes . . . and I finally understand . . . why she does it. Why her entire family has done it their entire lives. I thought it was for personal gain . . . that maybe she just wanted to be famous, a little attention. No, she really is protecting the people as she?s written the papers.? The reporter stood and nodded his head at the other man. ?Me and you. It?ll be our secret. No one else should ever know.?

The other man nodded back. ?Right.?

[b]Special Skills or Abilities-[/b]
Sniper rifle expert. Specializes in using the [url=http://world.guns.ru/sniper/sn20-e.htm]Vinovka Snaiperskaja Spetsialnaya[/url] or the [url=http://www.enemyforces.com/firearms/vss.htm]VSS[/url], a Russian-made silenced sniper rifle. The VSS becomes less effective in hitting its target beyond 400 meters, requiring Vinovka to stay close to her target when ?hunting?. The range has never been a problem for her however, as its limited range is made up for by its silencer.

She was rumored to have originally used a Heckler & Koch PSG-1(featured in the above picture), but is said to have switched to the VSS, preferring it for its silenced capabilities.

[b]Player?s Availability (How often will you be able to post? There is no such thing as too much or too little)-[/b] School starts on the 29th for me, but I expect I?ll be able to post at least one to three times a week.

[b]Which Otaku Thread Rating Do You Expect Your Posts To Fall Under? (E - Everyone, PG - Parental Guidance, M - Mature)-[/b] PG to M. They?ll probably fall under M a majority of the time. Swearing and violence mostly, but probably very little sex(if any at all).

[size=1]I've never had so much fun writing a sign-up before. I'd love to have the chance to participate; there's so much more behind her character for me to flesh out.

-DDG[/size][/COLOR]

[Onix]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1][B]Code Name / Call Sign:[/B] Z

[B]Gender (If Applicable):[/B] Male

[B]Location:[/B] Though his precise location is unknown, he was seen two days ago leaving Beunos Aires, Argentina, in an unliscenced black Mazda Miata going at approximately 80 miles per hour on average. Given prior knowledge of his traveling speed and style, it is believe that he is 4000 kilometers north of Beunos Aires, though could be further.

[B]Age:[/B] Based on physical appearance and the length of his career, Z is believe to be in his mid-to-late 20s. The most popular guess places him at roughly 27.

[B]Personal Appearance (Images are acceptable):[/B] While few photos of Z exsist due to his line of work, the few that have been taken usually prove surprisingly clear. [URL=http://photobucket.com/albums/y48/UnbornLordXion/Babes%20and%20Bishies/?action=view¤t=K.jpg]Here[/URL] is the most recent, taken by security camera after an almost-foiled theft. The red in the background, and the prevalent tinting of said color, is due to the explosive charges that he had just set off. Thankfully, the camera survived better than the rest of the room.

[B]Personality/Behavior:[/B] Few interactions have occured between living people and Z, considering that he is (understandibly) reclusive, and the people he meets on a working basis usually end up...dead. However, what little of his personality that has been gathered from photos, video, and survivors seems consistant. As in the above photo, he usually acts in a jaunty, self-confidant way. His enthusiastic charm seems to radiate through film and celluloid, and like many "badboys" across the world, Z has numerous groupies.

One particular instance on film records his apparent capture moments after a foiled assassination attempt in a small third-world country. As one of the government guards stands behind him, arm around his throat, muzzle of an assault rifle pointed to his temple, Z merely smiled and talked to the guard (fluently in the local language), until calmly disarming his opponent, shattering his arm in two places, and escaping under heavy fire.

He has been known to prefer talking his way in and out of places rather than killing everyone in sight, and with his excellent linguistic skills, incredible charm, and high level-headedness, he is quite capable of doing it. In addition, he prefers to sneak in and disarm detection systems than simply blow them up - though he has been known to do so when pressed for time. And, like any handsome man from his line of work, he's well known as a Casanova.

[B]Personal History:[/B] While Z's past is an utter enigma, major events are well documented and there are numerous theories that have been put forward to explain his past. His biography is composed purely of his known crimes, and the conjecture in-between.

The first event that has been pinned on him successfully was one of the most sensational thefts to strike the world at the time. He managed to infiltrate the most state-of-the-art Weapon's Research and Developement lab in Japan, stealing hundreds of millions of dollars worth in equipment. It is widly agreed that he had spent nearly a year planning the entire thing, something that has lessened progressively through the years due to his steadily increasing technological capabilities.

The numerous devices he stole from said lab have served him well the past 8 years of his career. His next move was a string of thefts through Korea and into China, taking even more millions in equiment with him. In addition, he stole several artifacts from the Forbidden Palace and several archaelogical digs elsewhere in China. After one on the Tibetan boarder, he slipped out of the public eye for a few months, and it is believed he may have gone into the mountains to train with monks of other action-adventure movie gibberish.

Next, he traveled through the Middle East, commiting a few more thefts and infiltrations, and committed his first assassination on a tyrannical leader. He vanished again, this time for only 4 months, before appearing in Egypt. Several ancient Egyptian treasures were stolen and he made his way south, stealing less and assassinating more in the war-torn countries. However, groupies and less biased analysts have noted, Africa seems less oppressed since his initial sweep. It is, perhaps, one of the few good things that have been said about him.

He returned to Asia several more times in the next 2 years for various technology heists and information thefts, but spent most of his time in Central and South America, infiltrating drug cabals for the government and the government in turn for others. More assassinations took place, and 15 cartels vanished thanks to his information swipes. It is believed that, during the first 4 years of his career, he ammassed more wealth than most countries. And still, he continued.

The next four years met with numerous thefts in North America and Europe, and a few Eastern European assassinations. He stole the Crown Jewels in England, but returned them a week later with a cheeky note, claiming that he sold them for four million dollars and stole them once again to return them. He also stole numerous items related to Hitler during one period, and deposited them in a town square in Berlin, garnering him almost universal animosity from the German government, and many citizens, though some still think it a brilliant joke.

In the past year, he has spent most of his time in South America again, "cleaning up" the nation, some feel. More dictators have vanished, and several more government officials have payed him handsome sums to infiltrate drug rings. He has even stolen Incan and Aztec artifacts from several private collections and returned them to temples of both peoples. Again, some claim that he is, or these thefts were instead perpetrated by, avengers from the grave but, again, officials disregard this as tabloid-inspired idiocy.

As said, several theories have been put forward to describe his origin. Since his first heist was in Japan, some believe him to be Japanese, or at least have lived there for several years. Others think that he's South American, due to the amount of time he spends there. Some even think he's English, as he did not permanently take the Crown Jewels. And others have claimed him to be Polish or Jewish ever since the Hitler incident. It is most likely that he is American or English in origin, possibly with South American, Asian, or even African heritage.

Some claim he was a martial arts prodigy in his youth, who decided to use his skills for theft and assassination. Others claim he was the son of a technology firm's owner and used his parent's money to fund his own empire. And still others claim that he is the heir to clan of mysterious assassins with mystical powers, but those are mainly disregarded as more hysteria. All that is certain is that he's skilled in combat, superb at technological dealings, and an excellent linguist, as he has been able to communicate quite adeptly with nearly every person he's come across.

Few have ever met Z, and only two kinds of people have access to him at nearly any time - his clients, who he is always handy for, and...the Legionnaires.

[B]Special Skills or Abilities:[/B] Z is not your average "Superhero," considering that...he has no superpowers. All of his abilities are forged from his own skills and human technology. He has had his abilities honed to a fine point thanks to years in his...less than scrupulous work, making him a very efficient spy, assassin, and thief. It is widely assumed that he has spent years training in the martial arts, and some cite his month's disappearence near Tibet as proof of that, claiming that he has studied with Buddhist Monks. Most disregard this, along with many rumors, as lunacy.

Most of his power, however, comes from his tech. Most infamous of all his weapons are the sunglasses he wears, which give him not only infra-red and ultra-violet scannings, but also have heat and motion detectors built in, allowing him to be able to see at all times, and better than most. Also are the gloves, depicted in the above photo, which are outfitted with electronic pulse devices in the palms that allow him to stun anyone he comes in contact with; in addition, they have a magnetic charge that allows him to walk on ceilings and walls; his boots are outfitted with the same.

In addition to these two main tricks, he has clothing that has certain devices in it wired to mask the sound of his movements, minimize the light that refracts off his body, and even covers his scent. He has a second pair of more offensive gloves, armed with retractable two-inch steel blades. Other things that have been found in his arsenal are throwing blades made of an incredibly light, sharp alloy; a certain jacket that he keeps a supply of flash, smoke, and poison bombs in; two elbow blades crafted from a similar material as his throwing blades; dual .44 calibur handguns with infra-red laser sights; sniper-rifles of varying calibers; and his personal favorite, self-created explosives that he activates using the cross-shaped necklace he wears.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[CENTER]*****[/CENTER]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]Ratings-wise, I'm best with M, but can tone it down to PG-13, or even E on occasion. However, I have a penchent for glore and swearing, so don't count on me being child-safe. As for posting times, I can at the least get on weekly, though I'll be sure to make notice of any events that will keep me away for a week or longer. I hope my entry was up to par, and that I'll be playing in this wickedly entertaining little event. It's an RPer's dream, after all.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Dagger]

[B]Code Name / Call Sign:[/B] Sabbath

[B]Gender: [/B] Male

[B]Location:[/B] Düsseldorf, Germany

[B]Age: [/B] ~160

[B]Personal Appearance: [/B]
[url=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/DaggerIX1/loungingaround.jpg][u]Lounging around[/u][/url]
[url=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/DaggerIX1/traditional.jpg][u]Shinsengumi uniform[/u][/url]
[url=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/DaggerIX1/modern.jpg][u]Modern clothing[/u][/url]

[B]Personality/Behavior: [/B] Essentially, Sabbath is lazy and apathetic. The laziness manifests itself as a sort of preternatural calm; he comes across as being almost impossible to upset, which can be amazingly frustrating for potential antagonists. The apathy accounts for his lifestyle: drifting aimlessly from place to place, dipping his feet in all sorts of entertainment and, despite the unique historical perspective with which his age has provided him, doing almost nothing of real consequence.

He kills the occasional criminal or low-life because it is a necessity for him, being a vampire, but he hardly aspires to become a vigilante. What he truly wants, consciously or unconsciously, is to be among equals--he's simply too set in his ways to go to the trouble of actually seeking them out.

[B]Personal History: [/B] In the mid-1800s, [url=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okita_Souji][u]Okita Soujirou[/u][/url] was a brilliant young swordsman and a key member of the Shinsengumi, the Japanese government's special police force. Despite the danger of his position and the violence sweeping the country, it was tuberculosis which killed him in 1869, at the age of 25. Thus ended the story of Okita Souji, a tragic and easily romanticized historical footnote; thus began the story of Sabbath.

One might presume that Souji sold his soul to a devil, exchanging all the things which composed his identity--his memories, his personality, his desires--for the chance to continue living, even if it were the life of a beast. Even if it were the life of a mannequin. Or perhaps it was an act of ironic charity that saved him: perhaps, on a whim, some passing sorcerer damned him to exist forever in the space between the living and the dead. Many would consider this sort of gift to be a curse. Not Sabbath; he savors life all the more for knowing that what he experiences is not really life at all--that though he will perish if stabbed, just like anyone else, his heart forgets to beat when he sleeps, and his blood has a peculiar sweetness to it which isn't at all reminisicent of copper or salt or any of the usual things, not that he goes around sampling others' blood...

At least, that's what he used to think, before the fragments of his mind slowly coalesced and he began to recognize the symptoms. Food was pleasant as ever, yet he never felt hunger--only a kind of piercing, indefinable thirst which sank its claws deeper at the taste of water or wine. The problem became exquisitely clear when his throat began aching at the mere sight of dead animals, and more strongly at corpses. He remembered nothing of his past life, but he felt an odd conviction that he must have been someone civilized, or at least someone kind--not the sort of person to skulk around in the night touching his tongue to congealing blood and thinking, his stomach twisting, how very close it came to what he really desired. Maybe this was the reason the undead were known to crave blood; was it not, for a few minutes or even hours, a sort of vicarious life?

The first ten years of Sabbath's afterlife were occupied with finding his creator. He experienced little difficulty in uncovering his past identity, though he was disappointed to find that the facts failed to spark so much as a second of deja vu. The young man called Okita Soujirou might as well have been a stranger to him. He found the issues surrounding his present--he now knew who he was, the question remaining was why--to be far more engrossing.

Vampires beget other vampires. He had turned out to be a perplexing breed, and he wanted answers: he was pale, but probably no paler than when he had been in the Shinsengumi, and the sun failed to make much of an impression on him; besides that, religious symbols were seemingly no cause for concern. This troubled him, primarily because it gave him hope--how much of his humanity had he been permitted to retain? He taught himself to master the thirst, to shape it until it became a tool just as obedient and keen as his sword. He prided himself on not killing innocents. As Okita of the Shinsengumi, he would not have been permitted that choice.

After a few decades, Sabbath grew weary of such questions, content to let them lie. He travelled; he watched history march past; he tried to pick up a new language every couple of years, and discovered he had quite an aptitude for it. Encounters with others of his kind were few and far between, and on the whole unpleasant. Vampires were, he discovered, territorial and by nature incorrigibly solitary. Sabbath could not flatter himself into believing he was an exception. He kept his swords sharp and his skills sharper; he dabbled in magic; he decided that hallucinogens and frowned-upon substances in general were for the most part highly overrated. As the years meandered by, as was perhaps inevitable, he became deeply, [i]astoundingly[/i] bored.

[B]Special Skills or Abilities:[/B] He's just as good a swordsman as Okita in his prime--perhaps better. He's had longer to practice, after all. His reflexes and most of his senses are superior to that of a human; however, though his sense of touch is heightened, it tends to give out in moments of serious pain. That is perhaps Sabbath's greatest weakness--when severely injured, he can't judge his condition by pain. He putters around with magic--or, at least, occasionally does things which can only be explained by some sort of talent for the supernatural--but almost wholly in a passive/defensive capacity. Apparently he also has a gift for (inadvertently?) passing as a woman.
[B]
Player?s Availability:[/B] Twice weekly at the most, weekly at the least.
[B]
Which Otaku Thread Rating Do You Expect Your Posts To Fall Under?: [/B] Generally PG. Possibly M at times, but only for violence.

[size=1]My sincere & humble apologies to the real Okita Soujirou, who is probably thrashing in his grave even as I type this. I am not worthy. As a side note, let me know if someone used this call sign earlier in the thread and I didn't see it, or anything like that.[/size]

~Dagger~

[Raiyuu]

[left] [right][size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b] Code Name / Call Sign[/b][/font][/color][/size]
[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms]Mirror[/font][/color][/size]

[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b][size=1] Gender (If Applicable)[/size][/b][/font][/color][/size]
[b][size=1][font=Trebuchet MS]Mrs Jackson: [/font][/size][/b][size=1][font=Trebuchet MS][size=2]I'm absolutely positive Ashley was born a girl. Goodness knows how many times she's changed backwards and forwards since then, but I can't spend my life saying 'he slash she' every time I refer to her, can I?
[b][size=1]Ashley Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]I'm comfortable in either sex, though. Happily androgynous, me.[/size][/size]
[/size][/font][/size]
[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b][size=1] Location[/size][/b][/font][/color][/size]
[b][size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms]Ashley Jackson: [/font][/color][/size][/b][size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2]Born in London, raised in London, and I'll never live anywhere else. You can take me out of London, but you can't take London out of me![/size][/font][/color][/size]

[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b][size=1] Age[/size][/b][/font][/color][/size]
[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=1][b]Mr Jackson: [/b][size=2]She's [/size][/size]19. What, you think I don't know how old my own child is? All right, she can look as old or young as she likes - God knows she's used it to get into enough clubs - but she was born nineteen years ago, so she's nineteen, all right? [/font][/color][/size]

[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b][size=1] Personal Appearance (Images are acceptable)[/size][/b][/font][/color][/size]
[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b] [size=1]Ashley Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]Dunno, I've never really worked out which shape's my real one, so to speak, the one that's actually me. As you see me now, that's my sort of neutral shape, the one I use just to walk around the streets and stuff.[/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Interviewer's note:[/b] [size=2]As he/she sits before me, Ashley Jackson is five feets nine inches tall, with short, tousled light brown hair and large blue eyes. He/she has pronounced cheekbones and a small mouth and chin, giving his/her face a tapered, almost triangular appearance. He/she wears blue jeans, a white T-shirt and a brown corduroy jacket, all well-worn and of loose fit. Currently he/she appears to be female.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=1][size=2] [/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=1][size=2] [/size][/size][/font][/color][/size][size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b] Personality/Behavior[/b][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b] Mrs Jackson:[size=2] [/size][/b][size=2]She's always been a little scamp.[/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b] Ashley Jackson: [/b][size=2]Mum![/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2] [b][size=1]Mrs Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]What? No, what?[/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Ashley Jackson: [/b][size=2]'Little scamp' makes me sound like something out of a kids' book. I hate it when you make me sound cute.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [b][size=1]Mr Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]I suppose you'd prefer 'rogue'?[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [b][size=1]Ashley Jackson:[/size][/b][size=1] ([/size][size=1][i][size=2]Inaudible)[/size][/i][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][i][size=2] [/size][/i][size=2][b][size=1]Mrs Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]Don't swear, dear.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Mr Jackson: [/b][size=2]Ash likes to see how far she can push people. By playing ridiculously complicated jokes mostly - if you put half that brain power into your schoolwork, Ash -[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [b][size=1]Mrs Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][i][size=2](interrupting) [/size][/i][size=2]But also by breaking every rule laid down for her.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [b][size=1]Ashley Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]What? Oh, Mum, curfews are [i]stupid. [/i]And how can you expect a teenager to go to a party and not drink?[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Mrs Jackson: [/b][size=2]And what about the sneaking out of your window at night? Don't think we didn't notice -[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Interview continued on Reel #002[/b][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][b] Please insert to continue[/b][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b] Personal History[/b][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms] [b]Ashley Jackson: [/b][size=2]Mum screamed blue murder and accused the nursery of pulling a baby-swap on her![/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2] [b][size=1]Mrs Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]Well - I - I don't know about -[/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2] [b][size=1]Mr Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]You know it's true, love, what mother wouldn't scream the bloody place down if her baby came out of the creche with different colour hair and eyes?[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Fast-forward >>[/b][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][b] Mr Jackson: [/b][size=2]I don't care what anyone says, all babies look pretty much the same, which is why we didn't really notice until Ash was about four, at playgroup.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [b][size=1]Mrs Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]I still remember the first time I saw you change -[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [b][size=1]Ashley Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]Dad says you fainted.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [b][size=1]Mrs Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]I had a bit of a dizzy spell, yes.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Mr Jackson: [/b][size=2]I just remember thinking: thank God we gave you a gender-neutral name like Ashley.[i] (General laughter)[/i][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][b]Fast forward >>[/b][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size][font=Trebuchet MS][size=1][b]Ashley Jackson: [/b][size=2]I think I watched too many police shows in my formative years.[/size][/size][/font]
[font=Trebuchet MS][size=1][size=2] [b][size=1]Mr Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]Oh no no, don't hide behind [i]Murphy's Law [/i]and [i]The Bill [/i]again. You decided you wanted to be a vice cop the moment you found out Jonathan oh-deed. The Legionnaires are just a step up -[/size][/size][/size][/size][/font]
[font=Trebuchet MS][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [b][size=1]Ashley Jackson: [/size][/b][size=1][size=2]He didn't oh-dee! His dealer was cutting the stuff with brick dust and caustic soda! People like that deserve to rot in Alcatraz.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font]
[font=Trebuchet MS][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [/size][/size][/size][/size][/font]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b] Special Skills or Abilities[/b][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b] Ashley Jackson: [/b][size=2]Well, I can't, like, make up a face to look like. I just mirror people. Got to imprint them first, though. About ... about two seconds of eye contact usually does it. Then your face is mine forever [i](laughs).[/i][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2] [size=1][b]Interviewer's note: [/b][size=2]At this point in the interview, Ashley Jackson proceeded to adopt my own appearance. His/her build and height altered along with his/her facial characteristics and skin tone to produce a flawless facsimile of my body, which spoke with my voice. The reason for the loose fit of his/her clothing now became apparent: the garments still fit even though his/her body had grown to my own size.[/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Mrs Jackson: [/b][size=2]Ash, stop that![/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Ashley Jackson: [/b][i][size=2](Inaudible)[/size][/i][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][i][size=2] [/size][/i][size=2][size=1][b]Interviewer's note:[size=2] [/size][/b][size=2]Here Ashley resumed his/her previous appearance.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Ashley Jackson: [/b][size=2][i]Anyway, [/i]I don't ever forget a shape, so I'll still be able to turn into you in ten or twenty years. But the longer I leave a shape without using it, right, the longer it takes to turn into it ... like it takes a while for my body to remember what it's supposed to look like.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Mr Jackson: [/b][size=2]Which means she can turn into either one of us pretty much at will, she answers the door as me so often - invites salesmen and Jehovah's Witnesses in all the time.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [size=1][b]Ashley Jackson: [/b][size=2]Yeah [i](laughs) [/i]but if I didn't turn into someone for, say, a year, it could take me anything up to a day to 'remember' how to do it.[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
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[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size] [left][size=1][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2][size=1][size=2] [/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/font][/color][/size]
[/left]
[font=Trebuchet MS]I can probably post two or three times a week. University starts mid-September, and it's a whole new experience so I don't know how often I'll be able to post then, but I'll try and stick with two or three a week. My posts don't often range beyond PG, and I can't see Ash being the sort of character that deals out a lot of gore. She can be pretty flirty though, and she has a bit of a mouth on her, so I'll go with M for Language and potential sexual references/situations.[/font]
[/left]

[DeadSeraphim]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial][B]Code Name / Call Sign:[/B] Unhate

[B]Gender (If Applicable):[/B] Male

[B]Location:[/B] Brisbane, Australia

[B]Age[/B]: 42

[B]Personal Appearance (Images are acceptable):[/B]
* 6'2"
* Built like a rock and covered with scarring
* Military-style greying hair and eyebrows, many lines framing his face
* Dark sunken eyes, strong stubble covered jaw-line. Lump noise from many fractures and breaks
* Often wears off-green singlets with camo pants and boots. Is also often seen in leather jackets and black jeans, depending on the particular social situation.

[B]Personality/Behavior:[/B] Cold and silent. Unhate is a man who's seen far too much horror in his life, and is loathe to speak about it, less karma summon it to his side once more. He rarely smiles, and his face is lined deep with worry.

Despite this, he is a natural leader, with the ability to control vast hordes with as few words as possible. Men and women alike are awed by his presence on and off the battlefield, and his closest friends would die in a heartbeat for him.

[b]Personal History:[/b] Born into a poor family back in the 60s, Unhate saw much devastation in his childhood. His family became just another victim of the motorcycle gangs and drug lords, slowly being picked off around him till only he and his mother remained. Needless to say, a single mother wasn't accepted much back then, despite her situation, and up to the age of 18 he suffered great hardship at the hands of his teachers and peers.

Once he left school, however, it seemed things were looking up. He joined the military, and enjoyed the orderly nature of his new life - and enjoyed even more the emphasis (or lack thereof) that was placed on his past. He was in the military, noone cared about his single mother. They only cared if he could kill.

Fortunately, he was exceptional at it. So exceptional, that before 21 he was serving in overseas conflicts, mowing down men by the dozen with his best friend Jed by his side. The blood of many was on their hands by the time they were finally caught - and it was there that everything changed once again.

Before his eyes Unhate watched countless experiments be performed on his friend by the enemies brutal scientists, from strange injections that left him foaming at the mouth to removal of teeth. The worst was by far, however, watching the scientists slowly and surely peel Jed's skin off - starting at the base of his skull and slowly working his way down.

Jed did not survive the procedure, and Unhate was set to be next, but as the blades pierced his flesh US Marines burst into the subterranean lab and rescued him. With only a scar as long as his arm down his chest to show for his troubles, he returned to Australia in 1980 as a veteran.

For 10 years Unhate travelled Australia, slowly forgetting his past, his family and even his own name. Where-ever he went he saw devastation - he could no longer see the bright side of life. Eventually the military required his services once more, and in 1990 Unhate stepped onto the war-torn fields of Bosnia with one crucial mission - leading his platoon to their death.

He'd been selected for a suicide mission. The military had taken note of his mental state, and assumed he would be better off dead. His whole platoon was of similar mind. Not one was expected to make it back alive, every one of them was expected to become just another corpse. As predicted noone came back - except of course Unhate

Everyone was mystified as to how it happened - there was no way they could have lived through that battle. Early on in the conflict they'd been doused by a spray of Agent Orange, and they had been set against 200 enemy soldiers armed with little more than assault rifles and grenades. It simply made no sense.

Over the next few years the military studied Unhate extensively, poking, prodding and generally trying to figure out where his supposed immortality stemmed from. Then one day, during random experimentation it was revealed - an extra string of chromosomes (predictably added during his scientific detainment), that granted him skin like a rock in battle. No bullet could penetrate, no Agent Orange could soak through.

The military were eager to replicate this, and offered him everything they could think of more. Unfortunately for them, the Legionnaires found out about his particular trait - and offered him more.

Quickly he was put in a leadership role within the structure of the Legionnaires and the rest, as they say, is history...


[b]Abilities and other relevant information:[/b]
[I]Natural leadership[/I]
Unhate is a natural leader who inspires those around him. The smallest of men can be filled with courage to be in his presence, and the mightiest warriors are humbled in his presence.

[i]Gunplay[/i]
Fantastic mastery of most known firearms. If there is a gun he hasn't used, it's not worth using. He has been known, when in his 'rock form', to thunder through a battlefield with grenade launchers in both arms, handling them both perfectly.

[i]Rock Skin[/i]
A hardened shell that grants him invulnerability to most projectile and chemical weapons. He's still killable via explosions, and has been known to be weakened when in bad weather or around electromagnetic pulses. His reaction speed tends to slow in this form, too.

[b]Can post:[/b] 1/week

[B]Which Otaku Thread Rating Do You Expect Your Posts To Fall Under? (E - Everyone, PG - Parental Guidance, M - Mature):[/B] M - I love gore and you know it.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Domon]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Navy][B][U]]Code Name / Call Sign:[/U][/B] Arachnid

[B][U]Gender (If Applicable):[/U][/B] Male

[B][U]Location:[/U][/B] San Francisco

[B][U]Age:[/B][/U] 21

[B][U]Personal Appearance (Images are acceptable):[/U][/B] [URL=http://pc59te.dte.uma.es/cdb/series/marvel/bitmaps/sp2099.jpg]His Costume[/URL]

[URL=http://www.sptimes.com/2002/05/06/photos/xpress_peter_parker.jpg]His alter ego, though his hair is a little longer and he's slightly tanner.[/URL]

[B][U]Personality/Behavior:[/U][/B] As Arachnid, he is very outgoing and confident, but tends to be a little bit obnoxious. He?s been known to hit on some of the female members of the Legionnaires and its these random acts that have earned him a few well placed punches, kicks, and slaps. As his alter ego however, he?s not much different. Though he?s a little more of a daydreamer then.

[B][U]Personal History:[/U][/B] When he was seventeen. Cael Simmons, who would later become Arachnid, was in Brazil with his parents who were exploring the jungle in search of several new species of spiders. Cael had grown up with a pet tarantula and was very calm around spiders, which seriously grossed out his friends when they saw him playing with his pet. However, this was his first animal classification trip with his parents, so Cael was a little nervous about it. The trip had been uneventful, except for the usual howler monkey and squawking parrot.

On the final day though, Cael?s parents had found the discovery of a lifetime. There deep in the forest was a spider that had thought to be extinct. It was a very venomous spider, so his parents put it into a tightly sealed plastic container and put it into their bag of empty containers. Cael though, had been sure to complain for the fiftieth time that his bag with his clothes looked too much like that bag and eventually they?d get mixed up. His parents on the other hand ignored him and were congratulating each other on their find as they radioed for a helicopter.

When Cael and his parents arrived back in the states his parents grabbed what they thought was their bag with the spider in it and went to open it in the kitchen, to check to see if their specimen was still alive, however they had grabbed the wrong bag and at that moment they heard a loud thump. With looks of terror on their faces they bolted upstairs to see their son laying face-down and his pet tarantula feasting on their now dead specimen. As soon as they turned their son over the saw that he?d been bitten once on the hand, once on the chest (he was wearing a low cut tank top), and once on the face. They quickly drove him to the hospital and quickly explained the problem to the doctor.

After a few hours of trying one type of anti-venom after the other, the doctor suggested trying a new technique. A cocktail of anti-venoms mixed with some venom that would counter-act the existent poison. His parents agreed and the treatment began. A few days after the treatment began, the doctors noticed that something unexplainable was happening to Cael?s blood, though it wasn?t just his blood but his genetic make up as well, it was starting to look like his body was absorbing both types of venom and integrating it into his body. The doctors soon took him off of the drugs and he came too a day after, his parents were overjoyed to see their son alive. After a few more days of recovery Cael returned back to his home for a normal life.

Or so he thought?..

A few weeks after he?d been home, Cael noticed that his body had actually developed more muscles, finally when he was in his weight lifting class he found himself lifting one of the heavier sets of weights that he hadn?t been able to do before the event with the spider. When he told his parents about this they took a DNA sample and examined it and discovered that through both the spider bites and the treatment, that his body had actually absorbed the venoms and had given him several spider abilities, two of which had been revealed already. His parents decided to run more tests.

Two weeks later Cael and his parents had discovered what else he was capable of doing, one of which was climbing up a vertical wall with ease, and the final ability was that he could easily evade oncoming attacks or threats to his well being. After a few more tests his parents decided that he should fight crime, they?d call the school and excuse him each time he had to leave. But he needed a suit and a way to get around fast instead of just jumping from building to building, he needed something that resembled a spider?s web, but to design these things, his parents needed money, so they spoke to Cael, if he wouldn?t mind having his powers exploited a little and he agreed because he knew it to be for the greater good.

After four more weeks. Cael?s parents and Cael went to UCLA to demonstrate what had happened and how he would be the perfect subject, if UCLA would loan them money to ?further enhance their studies.? UCLA agreed and the Simmons had their money. They soon made a lightweight suit that was strong enough to take a bullet light enough for free movement by Cael. The mode of transportation however, was very tricky. They couldn?t make grappling hooks, that would be pointless and wouldn?t allow very much movement.

They finally decided that they could do genetic altering of their son through rigorous drug injections with a certain dosage. When they explained this to their son, Cael was against it for awhile but then he decided that if he were to fight crime he?d need to do this. So began the tests, his parents took another sample of DNA and isolated the Spider DNA and tried to see if they could manipulate it into producing webbing. A few weeks later, his parents finally came up with a drug that they could use to give their son this power they realized that it was somewhat unstable, though they?d gone over it multiple times they realized that they couldn?t fix this small instability. The following week Cael returned home from school and his parents told him they were ready to try the drug. He changed out of his clothes and was strapped to a chair in his parents lab. When they injected him, Cael went completely limp and his heart stopped. His parents went into a panic and started CPR for about a minute and then he came too, but he didn?t regain conciseness for a few days. When his parents asked him to try the webbing. When he did fire the webbing it worked successfully. However, he lost conciseness again, but this time he awoke and saw his mother laying on the floor holding a broken arm and his father staring at him like he was a monster.

It was later revealed through another test, that the drug had actually caused a reaction that caused Cael to go into an aggressive rage when he fires off his webbing, however his parents found a drug to stop this for now.

Finally, after four years of researching and testing, Cael has finally started fighting crime and was eventually recruited by the Legionnaires to be a member of their team. His parents both urged him to join so he could be among heroes like himself.

[B][U]Special Skills or Abilities:[/U][/B] Strength (capable of lifting 9.5 tons to 10 tons when under stress.), Ability to walk on any kind of wall/surface due to the DNA in his body now, a pre-cognitive ability that warns of danger, natural webbing that causes an aggressive rage while slinging, but he?s been treated by his parents for this. However the drug only lasts for five years. This however still causes slight anger and heightened reflexes. If he were injected with an anti-drug, he would stay in a rage until he landed and stopped swinging, he still would have some control if this were to happen.

[B][I]I will be availible on the weekdays, until I get a job, and then I can change posting around that but I'll inform ya beforehand.[/I][/B]

[B][U]Which Otakuboards Rating thread do you think you'll be suited in?:[/U][/B] I would say PG-M. M at the most. [/COLOR][/SIZE]

OOC: I hope this is good, just PM me if you need to me to change anything.

[GuyYouMetOnline]

This could be fun. I think I'll just have to join.


Code Name/Call Sign: Liquid

Gender: Female

Location: Phoenix, A.Z.

Age: 28

Personal Appearance: She's almost exactly six feet in height. Her physical form is, well, attractive. She would be considered very beutiful if she appeared human, but she does not, even though the general form is the same. Her skin is a uniform blueish-green color, with her hair and eyes a similar but more green color. Her 'clothing', which really isn't actually clothing at all (not even she knows exactly what it is), is sparse, though she's covered where it counts. She can alter her form to apear human, and when doing so she keeps the same looks, just without the non-human features (for example, the blue-green skin color).

Personality/Behavior: She's a solitary person, but not realy antisocial. She just likes to be alone, though she is willing to tolerate the presence of others. She has a general dislike of human nature, though this doesn't mean she dislikes humans. She knows that there are some very bad people, but also knows that not all of them are bad people. She tends to assume and prepare for the worst, simply out of caution. She's what she calls a 'realistic pessamist', meaning that she has a less-than-optimistic view of the world that she has developed based on fact and experience. It also means that she prepares for the worst just in case, even though she knows the worst isn't always going to happen.

Personal History: Liquid was born in the city of Flagstaff, Arizona as Laqara Solero. From the start, she was different. Her father had died before she was born. Her mother remarried when she was still a baby, and for a while she thought the man was her real father. When Laqara was 8 years old, her mother and stepfather divorced, and it was durring this time that she learned about her real father.

This discovery, coupled with the turmoil of the quite messy divorce, caused a severe decline in Laqara's acedemic performance. Eventually her mother, who had custody of her, pulled her out of school for a while. When things calmed down and Laqara had accepted her situation, her mother hired a private tutor. She was homeschooled for the rest of elementary school, as well as middle school. She attended a public high school and did vary well.

On the night of her graduation, her mother was killed in a drunk driving accident. Having nowhere else to go, Laqara began living with Kajo, her late mother's ex-husband. At the time, Kajo was going through some personal troubles of his own, though he never said exactly what those troubles were. Laqara knew only that he was frequently drunk, and tended to break things in anger. Though Kajo at first did his best for Laqara, he soon began taking out his anger on her. At first, he would simply shout at her, but one night, he went a bit further. He attempted to rape Laqara.

What Kajo didn't know is that Laqara, frightened by Kajo's violent behavior, had begun learning how to defend herself. What Laqara didn't know is that Kajo owned a gun. When he tried to rape her, Laqara fought back. At least, she started to. But then Kajo pulled a gun on her. She acted submissive, let Kajo approach, then slammed her knee into his groin and bolted.

Not even Laqara herself is quite sure what happened next. She ran as fast as she could away from the house, barely even noticing the pouring rain. She was running away from all signs of civilization, not really caring where she wound up. The next thing she knew, she was on her back. She saw something she couldn't identify, then blacked out. When she came to, the world appeared to be glowing, an oddly non-illuminating glow that was in literally everything, lighting up the night for her. This was the first step in the process of discovering her changed appearance and new powers. From that point on, she remained by herself.

Laqara wanted to leave the city of her birth behind, but she needed money. So she broke into Kajo's house while he was asleep, took his bank card, withdrew a large sum of money, and returned the card. She was careful to put it exactly where she found it, and left no signs of her presence. Kajo never even realized he'd had money stolen.

Laqara managed to reache Phoenix, which was far enough from Flagstaff, but close enough for her to reach. She managed to hitch a ride with a sympathetic truck driver. Upon arrival in Phoenix, she located an appartment complex with avalible space. After taking the required certification classes, she was able to get a job as a lifeguard at a local pool, and she also taught swim lessons. Considering her situation, she was doing very well in life.

Special Skills or Abilities: Along with the physical change came water-based powers. Laqara has basic water-manipulation abilities, and can create water to a limited extent. She is able to see water in any form (the 'glow' she saw in everything after her change). She is able to shift her form to something more human-looking, and although she can hold it for a couple days straight if she has to, she is unable to maintain this state indefinatly (sp?). She can also shift herself into a liquid state, though she can only maintain this state for a few minutes at a time. She's also a skilled fighter, though this is not really a power.


I try to get online at least once a day, but I may not be able to post evvery day. Certainly multiple times per week. My posts can range anywhere from PG to M, depending on the RPG and the current situation within it.

[Sicarius]

[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b] Code Name / Call Sign: Kazuyama ( a-yup, demon-boy from the RK: River of Time series!)

Gender (If Applicable):male

Location: Kyoto, Japan

Age: 19

Personal Appearance (Images are acceptable):[url="http://www.northarc.com/images/vg-ragnarok/assassin_m.jpg"]http://www.northarc.com/images/vg-ragnarok/assassin_m.jpg[/url]
His hair his dark now, ash gray base, with a bright blue tip. costume has changed to match the color of his hair, so black silk, with blue straps o' leather

Personality/Behavior:
Kaz is an *** in general. Loving, and sincire, it is usually over shadowed by his asshole-esque behavior. Highly sarcastic, but funny in his own right. When it comes ot fighting, he's very serious, and his attitude becomes rather misanthropic, and quiet. Though he may be an ***, he is usually found reading, or deep in though, hiding away from the city he has come to love.

Personal History:
[/b][/font][/color][/size][size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b]Kaz is a seasoned fighter in the arts of Aikido, and Ninjitsu, also in the use of Katar, and the Kunai (w00t for the ninja).
Having grown up in America, his family moved to Japan, because his father was in the military, and his stationing had been made permanent in the country. Kaz recieved his kick name, Kazuyama, from his Japanese school friends, who knew he wanted to fit in more with the other students. He had taken up his martial art forms when he had moved to the country, and continued to study them. When he graduated from the high school, he moved to a small apartment and attempts to be Kyoto's vigilante hero.
[/b][/font][/color][/size]
[size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b]
Special Skills or Abilities: [/b][/font][/color][/size][size=2][color=#000000][font=trebuchet ms][b]
Kaz is a seasoned fighter in the arts of Aikido, and Ninjitsu, also in the use of Katar, and the Kunai (w00t for the ninja). From the study of Aikido, he has ben able to tap into his Chi energy, and has the ability of teleportation, and a small semi- strong chi blast he calls "Baka" {he likes that word..and he hasn't quite mastered his blast, yet}

availibility:
weekly, college starts the 29th, but I should be able to post something every week at least

rating: PG-M
I hope this works, I'll try my best, and put everything I can into this awesome project
[/b][/font][/color][/size]

[JimiWiggy11]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkGreen]Code Name / Call Sign: Royce

Gender (If Applicable): Male

Location: New York City

Age: 23

Personal Appearance (Images are acceptable): 6'3'' , messy dark blonde hair, bright blue eyes. Has a scar that goes from his bottom lip to his chest. Wears a dark blue t-shirt that says " Silence " on it in comicbook-style letters, and he also wears long black denim shorts. Wears combat boots and has green rope tied around his wrist.

Personality/Behavior: Can't back away from a fight even if he wants to, he's usually down to earth and dioesn't pay much attention to anything unless it's important. He's a woman lover!

Personal History: Born and raised in New York City, his uncle was a member of the Mafia and soon helped his nephew climb up the ranks of the Family. Royce became skilled with all typed of firearms, but he always favored a shotgun over a rocket launcher. He got the scar on his face and chest from some crazy Yakuza protecting his family, but it got Royce thinking about what he was doing. He left the mob soon after and became a man of the people, shooting his way into the Legionnires.

Special Skills or Abilities: Is an expert marksman, but has a wierd chance of frequently running into danger.


Player?s Availability (How often will you be able to post? There is no such thing as too much or too little): Pretty much everyday, I start school the 23rd of August though.

Which Otaku Thread Rating Do You Expect Your Posts To Fall Under? (E - Everyone, PG - Parental Guidance, M - Mature): sometimes pg.. but mostly M[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[4815162342]

[COLOR=Indigo][B]Code Name/Call Sign:[/B] Vernacular

[B]Gender:[/B] Female, luv.

[B]Location:[/B] London England

[B]Age:[/B] 27

[B]Personal Appearance:[/B] Vernacular's looks vary by her moods each day. One day she may be a classy blonde without a single hair out of place, makeup applied with the perfection of a porcelain dolls, no fault in her dress, perfect posture and the next look like a fugitive from some disaster movie where no one cares about appearance. The only thing that remains constant is her height of 6'4", her slim build and her hands with their long, narrow fingers.

[B]Personality/Behavior:[/B] Vernacular is very scatterbrained and word/talking oriented. She often uses more words than necessary when talking, giving people many options for the same word. She is not quiet or shy at all, but very outgoing. Her emotions are very easy to read. She is a very very disorganized person in every aspect of life, but most especially in her thoughts. You can tell by the way her sentences come out some times. The only time she's perfectly normal is when she's translating something.

[B]Personal History:[/B] Vernacular was brought up in poverty, beggary, destitution, impoverishment, as a child, juvenile, urchin, named Caoimhe (Pronounced Kee-Vee) Amanda Townshend. Her parents, despite their lack of wealth, assets, were never [I]ever[/I] neglectful, delinquent, unmindful, inattentive of their daughters needs. She was always fed as healthily as possible and her clothes though ragged, dilapidated, patched, shabby, were always clean and presentable.

From the beginning, basis, infancy, onset, her parents could tell that there was something different, contrary, about their child. Especially when at the age of two she could speak, articulate, discourse, vocalize, in small sentences such as "Mama I'm tired. May I go to bed now?" while others children merely said "Mama tired..." or some variation, aberration, modification, thereon.

Up till she was five her parents moved the family around in search, hunt, quest, of new jobs that would pay for their residence while leaving money, currency, moolah, wampum, salary, for the little extras. Soon after, ensuing, her fifth birthday, however, they realized that their daughter needed to be in school so they got permanent, changeless, steadfast, jobs that would pay for the rent as well as weekly grocery bills etc. And Caoimhe entered the local Kindergarten.

Caoimhe did very well in certain aspects of her school work, assignments, endeavors, (i.e. the parts that involved words and writing), often passing up her classmates. In others, however, such as math and science, she would often fall far behind.

Her frustration, annoyance, with how little she was taught, coached, informed about words led to her spending whole afternoons after school in the local library while her parents were at work where she would read books made for much older children devouring the words just as a dog would devour, absorb, partake of, take in, its meal.

Throughout her elementary, middle and high school career she managed to get her grades in the other subjects to get to at least average, familiar, passable, grades...but English and Languages were subjects where she pretty much was ahead, before, preceding everyone.

After graduation she won, achieved, was granted a scholarship to a small local community college where she majored in English and minored in foreign languages. In her freshman year she met David Alec Hood, majoring in accounting, and after courting, dating, seeing each other, for one year they decided they were meant for each other and got engaged her sophomore year, marrying her junior year. By the time she was graduated she had her first child.

David and Caoimhe named there child Hiranmayi Rajata because of Caoimhe's love, fondness of, devotion to the Indian languages. When Hira, as their little girl was named, was three and Caoimhe twenty-five, the Legionnaires contacted Caoimhe about hiring her to work as a member of their Intel. operations and Caoimhe accepted, approved, okayed, the job along with the call name Vernacular.

Vernacular has been working there for about two years now, transferring messages and documents into other languages as well as translating for those who need it. She still manages to find openings to spend time, breaks, with her family especially her daughter, who at the age of five is a complete terror, anxiety, dismay, fright.

[B]Special Skills or Abilities:[/B] Vernacular is a master of words and languages. She can speak and use almost any language but when she gets flustered, nervous, mad, excited, etc. she just stops using those languages at all. In example, if she was getting madder and madder and yelling at someone in...let's say Greek, she just might forget to use that language at all and start swearing at the people she's mad at in her normal accent, normal language, the one she grew up using...which happens to be Cockney.

[B]Player?s Availability:[/B] At least once every two days, what with the school year coming up and all...

[B]Which Otaku Thread Rating Do You Expect Your Posts To Fall Under?:[/B] My posts, I would say, fall under the PG rating most of the time. :)

[/COLOR]

[COLOR=Sienna]Actually finished it. WOO![/COLOR]

[Goodbye, Face]

[font=trebuchet ms][size=1][b]Code Name/Call Sign:[/b] Lefty

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Location:[/b] He hails from the United States, but he travels around a lot, he's almost never in the same place.

[b]Age:[/b] 26

[b]Personal Appearance:[/b] He usually wears dark colors under an open trench coat full of things he'll need. He has an obssession with blades and other sharp objects, so he has around 20 knives of assorted sizes and types, along with vials of various poisons he enjoys using. In most battles, he'd use a small Russian grip sabre in his left hand, other hand adorned with a metal claw that bends with his fingers which is hooked up via tubing to one of his various toxin vials.

Other than that, he has shoulder length dark brown hair, gray eyes, and stands about 6' 2". He has the look of a killer, one who even alley brusiers would stay away from if they met him in an alley, if that makes any sense. He usually does try to keep a smile on his face, but it's hard in his kind of work. He's only in it for the money, but we'll get to that when necessary.

[b]Personality/Behavior:[/b] The best place to start here is his name. "Lefty" is not a codename, it's his actual first name. He was named before he was even out of the womb. Somehow his mother knew he'd be left-handed and thought it was a good enough name for him. It is said that left-handed people are generally right-brained, meaning they think about things using emotion and creativity, rather than logically and orderly. Obviously, with Lefty, this was the case.

How does this work in the mind of a killer? He's calm and cold, yet smooth and sarcastic. He'll be the master of witty comebacks for most any situation. If there's a fight he can't win with his words, he'll win with his sabre, but there's another place for that conversation as well.

He perfers stealth more than busting down the doors, but but he equally holds his own in any situation. He is still quite the sportsman, he avoids sabbing backs and doesn't carry fiirearms. I'm sorry to keep doing this to you, but if I go further, it'd belong in another section.

[b]Personal History:[/b] He was always picked on when he was young and in the end, he feels that it made him a better person. He was an only child and his parents worked several jobs each, so usually, one was there to wake him up for school and one was there by the time Lefty would need a kiss goodnight.

Due to this lack of guidance, Lefty distanced himself from religion, sports, and everything else that tainted the people around him who would constantly torture him. He chose not to fight anyone, instead to bash them down in drawn depictions and through poetry.

He cut his wrists and dreamed of suicide all through middle school. Between eighth and ninth grade he discovered fencing, and joined his high school's fencing team. Through this he finally made friends and developed out of his egg of hatred and into an actual human being.

Fencing is what saved his life and he quickly rose to the team's MVP the next year. If the record started from 11th grade, he'd remain undefeated. He went to every tournament, including the Jounior Olympics and won everything.

Then there was one day he lost. This was when he was in college, the deciding match between him and another person... who would go to the Olympics. He lost so fast and so horribly. Since then, he could never get back into the "groove" of competitive fencing, and quit the team... to later drop out of college.

His father was becoming incredibly ill, it turned out he had cancer and was probably going to die. Meanwhile, Lefty sunk down into a deeper and deeper hole.

Then his mother suddenly disappeared. There was a note left on her bed... a ransom note. It was an incredible sum of money, the kind of money that would put a nice sized dent in Bill Gate's wallet.

Lefty decided that he'd become a bounty hunter of sorts and work up money to pay the ransom. He purchased various equipment that he thought he'd need, as well as paid tutors to teach him martial arts and the ways of the ninja, just to keep him well-rounded.

After about ten missions, he recieved a request that would pay him in riches...

[b]Special Skills or Abilities:[/b] He has a very keen left eye. When he closes his right eye, he can aim at anything, no matter the size or speed... to some extent. He has learned the technique of deflecting bullets with his sabre. He's also well versed about worldly things and fighting arts.

[b]Player Availibility:[/b] Everyday for now, school starts next Thursday, then it might be a different story. I know I'll probably be online everyday, but as for replying to something this huge, I might post like every other day or every three days.

[b]Rating:[/b] I can shift age levels with ease, I'm fine with PG, but M would be nice as well.[/font][/size]

[Gavin]

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1]A damn fascinating little RPG/Event Josh.

[b]Code Name / Call Sign:[/b] Augur

[b]Gender (If Applicable):[/b] Male

[b]Location:[/b] Dublin, Republic of Ireland

[b]Age:[/b] 32 as of July 2nd

[b]Personal Appearance (Images are acceptable):[/b] [url=http://adventkane.250free.com/Fraser.jpg][b]Augur[/b][/url]

Standing 1.85 meters Jack?s a big enough fellow by most people?s standards, his body is athletic but more focussed towards strength than agility due to the nature of his powers, hardened developed muscles run across most of his body though not built to an extent as to prove a disadvantage. Put simply he?s built enough to for someone to see them from a short distance but not enough that anyone would think he?s some kind of bodybuilder. In terms of clothing during his normal hours as Jack Griffin he?ll wear pretty much what comes to hand as long as it?s clean and decent looking, though he has a penchant for cream or navy coloured t-shirts. After hours as Augur he uses what has become his ?costume? for the lack of a better word, a worn but still dark pair of black jeans along with a worn black leather full length overcoat over dark grey t-shirt covering a kind of Kevlar weave he wears underneath.

[b]Personality/Behavior:[/b] Jack's a quiet guy most of the time, not that "tough guy in the corner" quiet but more of a "guy who prefers to listen and then speak when necessary" quiet. If at all possible he prefers to let his body language do his talking for him, some people find this off-putting in terms of dealing with him, some others see it as a sign of rudeness, but it's not, it's just Jack's way and it's not meant to be rude or off-putting, he's just a quiet person by nature. His quietness has lead to him being labelled as cold and distant, an emotional iceberg with no concept of human feelings, in truth though it's a very different story but Jack rarely speaks and so that story isn't all that well known. Those who do know the story know that Jack is an immensely deep person, genuine, loyal, courageous and as compassionate a person you're likely to find, but riddled with enough self doubt and insecurities to break a normal person. His silence is his way of bottling up these insecurities, from letting people see them and thus understanding that the difference between a hero and a normal person beyond powers is a very thin line.

When someone does manage to break through all the self-doubt that gnaws away at Jack he almost seems to become a different person, he has a wonderful sense of humour and is more than willing to make a joke to try and lift the mood, he is very kind and in a naive kind of way charming. At times he'll damn near talk your head off if you let him, the release of his bottled-up feelings and the joy that comes with driving his demons away even for a few minutes at a time. Other times he's willing to just sit back and listen to another person and share a simple conversation, the things normal civilians consider "the norm" in life are the things that Jack rarely has the opportunity to experience and the things he desires most. Being a hero is a lonely life most of the time, something people just don't realise when normal people hold them up as examples of what a person should be, but that's the side of heroes people don't see, the part Augur works desperately to cover up to give normal people simple hope and a feeling of safety in a dangerous and complicated world.

[b]Personal History:[/b] Augur was born John Edward Griffin, though nicknamed Jack by his mother May mere moments after his birth for fear she'd be referring to her husband and son as John for the rest of her life. Born the eldest into what would be a family of four Jack knew about the concept of responsibility before he learned to walk and talk. One of the biggest worries most parents face with a new child is that nagging feeling that they need to be watching their children twenty-four hours a day just in case something would happen to them, whether it be falling as they learn to walk, or getting their hands on something they might put into their mouth or God forbid swallowing bleach or something like it from the kitchen or garage. That high-pitched screeching wail of a child when they've scraped their knee or bumped their head is something Jack's parents heard all to infrequently from Jack, he never made a peep unless it was when he was with someone else, whether it be sitting or moving around he would do it in complete and utter silence.

When he grew old enough to talk it was the same story, he'd say a few words sure, as if to let people know that he could actually communicate but beyond that he was silent, and when asked why he was so quiet he'd just respond with a kind of nervous shrug without meeting the other person's gaze. While it wasn't normal neither was it so abnormal that Jack's parents felt that it required anything more than time, "it's just a phase" his mother assured his father "it'll pass given enough time". By three and a half Jack's mother had his manic twin siblings Anton and Marie to keep her sharp and her time spent with Jack outside his bedtime story was near minimal, his father however doted on Jack spending all his available time with his first-born son, and with his father the reluctant, nervous Jack cracked a smile and learned to laugh like a normal person. It was at that tender age that John Griffin saw something in his son, he couldn't explain it but he knew, just knew that someday his son would go on and do great things.

School was both a interesting and frustrating experience for Jack, he loved to learn regardless of whether he was good at a subject or not, he just wanted to learn about and understand damn near every subject there was out there. His teachers found him to be a polite, hardworking but ultimately shy boy, who although interacting with others his age never really seemed to belong and often just sat by watching as if to try and discern the difference between himself and them. Something his teachers noted, perhaps something even hinted at earlier in his childhood was that he seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing when something was going to happen, when watching a game of hurling Jack was seen more than once cheering before the sliotar had even been struck. Most of the time it was dismissed as simple exuberance from a introverted child, but some of his teachers had suspicions otherwise, that like his father had suspected something wasn?t quite normal about this boy.

By his final years of secondary school Jack had become known for his ability to pick winners in sporting matches, horse races, anything. Those elderly gamblers who?d spent their life looking for that one big score in grotty betting ?establishments? either regarded him with a sense of envy and contempt or crept up behind looking for tips with a lopsided, toothy smile. Jack made most of his money this way, at seventeen he had few other options, while his father had continued working after the birth of his youngest daughter Elsie his parents had decided for the benefit of their children that May should stay at home with the children rather than them raised by strangers hired for money. As such there wasn?t huge amounts of money to go round, but Jack always had a few quid in his back pocket and was willing to contribute as much as he could to the family coffers.

However Jack?s days spent in a bookies? wasn?t without it?s dangers, Dublin like most major cities had a seedy underworld that just required the one misstep to fall headfirst into. Jack?s misstep was to go beyond the ?fair winnings threshold? of his local bookies, one of the ?legitimate? businesses of one of Dublin?s many drug gangs, this threshold simply stated that anyone who won more times than could be considered ?fair? should be dealt with, and dealt with extreme prejudice. Late one night coming home from work Jack got a sick feeling in his stomach, that something was terribly wrong or perhaps that something was going to go terribly wrong. Gunning his car for all it was worth he arrived back home, his head aching, his heart pounding hoping that it was all in his mind.

Pushing the door open he found himself staring into the kitchen exactly as it had been left, his siblings school books strewn about the table, the wafting smell of a hot dinner, it all seemed normal. Silently he drew open the cutlery drawn and withdrew a small but razor sharp knife his mother used for cutting up small portions of meat, he slid the knife into his pocket and moved on into the next room. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and his headache was getting worse in intensity, but as he moved throughout the house it became apparent that nobody was home. Checking around the hall to the front door Jack found a freshly written note sitting on the telephone stand, to his intense relief it stated that his family had gone to the pictures for an evening out and that they would be back later that night. Before he replaced the letter on the stand Jack heard the unmistakable click of a pistol hammer, his mind blazed, he could here a kind of silent nasal breathing. His elbow lashed back but met only air, turning round he found himself completely on his own.

Sighing heavily he threw the note back on the stand and moved into the dining room to get himself a drink to try and calm his nerves, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach remained, he sighed again and drank from the tumbler liberally before pouring himself a second and a third helping. He rubbed his forehead in confusion, trying to work out what was going on, but all his questions were met only with a silence, was it the whiskey ? Fumes from the car ? Some kind of virus ? He didn?t understand, but it didn?t matter, his chain of thought was interrupted as the front door was violently smashed in and right then and there it all made sense. A pair of vicious looking skin-headed thugs moved in the door, their faces plastered with a kind of malignant smile that indicated just what they were here for, behind them moved a third man, tall and somewhat thin, his face belayed no emotion or intention, merely focus.

Jack?s stomach hit the floor, the feeling in his stomach went away only to be replaced with butterflies that felt more like jumbo jets, there were three of them and one of him and he knew the tall man had a gun, which put him at a decided disadvantage. He moved carefully from the dining room to the kitchen, Jack was no superhero but he wasn?t going to let these punks wreck up his father?s house to satisfy some drug-pushing son of a *****, he?d get to the phone and call the police, with any luck they?d be here before anything nasty happened. The three men had spread out moving to different sections of the house, one of the two thugs a small, fat man with a tire-iron smacking off his palm had moved into the room adjacent to the kitchen, his breathing was heavy but rhythmic as his lumbered from room to room looking for something or someone. As he moved in the kitchen double doors Jack struck, the rolling pin in his hand he collided it with the rotund intruder?s midsection, the squat thug exhaled sharply winded before falling to his knees, Jack raised the rolling pin again and struck the back of his head just hard enough to knock him out. ?One down, two to go? he whispered damn near terrified.

The second of the two thugs had moved in before Jack even realised a sharp growl exited the taller man throat as he lunged, a twelve inch army blade moving down in a quick stabbing motion. Before the knife could connect Jack moved, he didn?t know how he could have but he did, his left leg collided with the man?s groin, the ruffian screamed in pain and anger but managed a quick slashing motion with the knife before going down, Jack felt a searing pain across his chest and felt blood begin to flow from the wound. ?Definitely not good? he thought gasping, his attention returned to the thug who?d begun to rise again, he lashed out with his leg solidly hitting the man in the chest before moving in and punching hard into his face. Right as the man head hit the floor Jack heard the distinctive click of the gun?s hammer, the exact sound he?s heard minutes before along with the same nasal breathing,. His hand moved slowly down to his pocket, trying desperately to retrieve the knife before a bullet from that gun lodged in the back of his head. The knife slid quickly of his pocket, faster than he expected, he knew the man?s finger was just about to squeeze the trigger, he rolled his right shoulder as the gunshot sounded, the bullet lodged itself in the kitchen floor and Jack drove the knife into his assailant's triceps.

The taller man bellowed in agony, his gun arm useless, the pistol dropped with a clatter to the ground, Jack?s hand slipped over it feeling it?s contours but keep his eyes on the injured man. He was tempted to shoot him, along with the other two men unconscious on the ground, but he was no murderer, he?d call the police and they?d deal with it. He kept his eye on the third man, the knife was still in the wound and his eyes told Jack that if he got the opportunity he was going to gut him with it, the voice of a young woman finally gave Jack the chance to relax his guard a small bit, he relayed his story and was informed that the police would be there in minutes. He sat back in the chair, the gun still pointing squarely at the gangly man?s forehead, he?d wait here and soon it would all be over, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach knew it wouldn?t be, and the acrid smell of smoke told him he was right.

The next few minutes are a blur for Jack, and even after fourteen years it?s an uncomfortable memory for him to recall, he knows the smoke and fire in the house started into the kitchen , while the three men on the group still lay silent, the sounds of a siren in the distance reassured him that everything would be OK. The third man said something that Jack can?t recall, an insult ? A threat ? At this stage it doesn?t matter, Jack remembers the gunshot only, and then being pulled out by the fire-fighters, but nothing else. Later he remembers being told that that the third man must have jumped at him before he shot him, but as much as Jack would like to know that?s what happened he just can?t recall it, but he believes he didn?t kill the man and so do the police.

That was fourteen years ago and in the advent of that event Augur was born, and like Spiderman and those other comic-book heroes that Jack read about as a child he took a mask and vowed to make the city a safer place one scumbag at a time, but is he really a hero or just a vigilante ? In Jack?s mind it doesn?t really matter. His eyes open slowly and he stops recalling the memory, the noise of traffic around him and the screams of those yet to scream

[b]Special Skills or Abilities:[/b] As his name implies Jack has the ability to see into the future, though see is merely the closest word to describe it, he can sense things before they happen, movements, words and faces. He?ll see his enemy try to pull the trigger before they?ve even removed their gun from the holster, he?ll know the answer to the question he asks before he?s even asked it, he?ll see the faces of those he?s too late to save before he?s even met them. For most people it?s a sense of deja vu when they think they?ve seen or done something before, for Jack it?s just another feeling he?s learned to mingle in with the fear of being a normal man other people consider a hero. Directly related to this ability to see into the future, Jack?s reflexes are much faster than that of a normal human, and even if he?s not seeing the future consciously his reactions are still dictated by his subconscious and thus are always ?on?.

In terms of weaponry Augur sticks to either small four inch throwing knifes he has lining his waist, or tranquilliser darts he has lining his wrists and thighs, given the opportunity he prefers to use the tranqs rather than having to kill someone but if it calls for it then he?s willing to meet force with force. While Jack has damn near 100% accuracy with the darts and throwing knives, he?s not as proficient in close combat as he?d like to be, he?s a big enough guy and can throw a fairly hard punch but on the scale of things he?d rather stick with his knives and darts.

[b]Player?s Availability (How often will you be able to post?:[/b] Every day if necessary

[b]Which Otaku Thread Rating Do You Expect Your Posts To Fall Under?:[/b] Somewhere between PG and M depending on the level of violence involved.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[Shy]

[center][size=5][b]:::The Legionnaires:::[/b][/size] [b]Ozymandius Jones[/b] - Sparks [b]Fallen[/b] - Impulse [b]Kitty[/b] - Tech [b]Ajeh[/b] - Face [b]Minako[/b] - Pandora [b]Raiyuu[/b] - Mirror [b]Retribution[/b] - Dust [b]Starr Struck[/b] - Vernacular [b]Nuevoxraiha[/b] - Saturn [b]Who Am I?[/b] - Speedy [b]Dagger[/b] - Okita [b]Generic NPC #3[/b] - Persona [b]Sage Kaley[/b] - Echo [b]Aiyisha[/b] - Unhate [b]Circeus[/b] - Pygmalion [b]Sage[/b] - Melinoe [b]Break[/b] - Joseph [b]Gavin[/b] - Augur [b]Shy[/b] - The Arbiter [b]Takuya[/b] - Liquid [b]Solar Princess[/b] - Aura Partson [b]Imi[/b] -Era Gender [b]Domon[/b] - Arachnid [b]Sakura[/b] - Sakura Hiwatari [b]Unborn Lord Xion[/b] - Z [b]DeathKnight[/b] - Kaida [b]DDG[/b] - Vinovka [b]Baron Samedi[/b] - Tetros[/center]

[size=1][b]A note about sign-ups:[/b] I was pleasantly surprised by the response that this thread has received, both in terms of activity and in terms of quality. There were more than several 'close calls.' I did my best to choose characters who fit within the universe I had planned, and who had something unique to bring to the stories.

If you'd like to discuss with me why you were not chosen for the project, and are looking for suggestions to help your future sign-ups in other RPGs, please PM me. I'll do my best to respond to all of them, although it may take me a while.

Thanks again to everyone who has contributed.

Any questions related to the event itself may be asked in [url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=49109][b]The Legionnaires Underground[/b][/url], which has just launched.

-Shy[/size]