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Post by Pat on Oct 16, 2009 9:36:08 GMT 12
Howler - A slightly modified version of the standard zombie. These guys aren't all that smart or strong, but they're faster than virtually any human, and they also have another modification. They have a long beak where their mouth and nose should be, which they use to make a loud, sharp sound that's extremely high-pitched. It is almost too high for a human to hear, but every zombie within a mile will hear it. It's basically a dinner call. If they see a human, they raise their head and let out that horrible sound, and most zombies in the surrounding area will come and join the living feast. Howler's usually travel with large groups of non-Howler zombies, and they are usually few and far between. If you see one of these babies in a pack of zombies, take 'em out immediately, before they see you. Experiment #47
Muscle - These babies are called "Muscle" for a reason. They're practically a tank, made entirely of muscle. If they hit you, you're dead. They can crash through a brick wall with a well-placed punch. They also have huge, leathery wings in case they need to chase you down. Mind you, they're very slow. It's highly unlikely they'll ever try and chase you down because of that. They usually travel in groups of two or three, or sometimes alone. Most of the time, though, you'll see them with a group of smaller, less capable zombies. Experiment #108.
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Post by Pat on Oct 19, 2009 5:52:31 GMT 12
Bio format- Weeewwwt.
Name: His old master called him Sid. It’s the only thing he can say. Age: Looks around 13 Race: Feral Gender: Male
Appearance: Sid stands around 5’6. He’s mostly muscle, with very pale complexion, but he’s a Feral, so that’s a given. His eyes are black, with sapphire dots throughout them, barely noticeable unless you look closely. His hair is the same way; a bluish black. It’s messy, considering he hasn’t brushed it in years, and goes down to his shoulders, because he is terrified of scissors. His fingernails are surprisingly short, but come to a point at the end. He has thick eyebrows, high cheekbones, and round eyes. No facial hair, though. He’s kind of handsome... If he maybe got a haircut and took a shower... Or two... Or seven...
Sid’s only clothing is a pair of baggy black jeans that are torn and faded, and only go down to about halfway down his shin. The entire bottom is torn off. He also wears a thin black band around his neck. He runs around barefoot and bare-chested, so you can definitely tell he’s a guy. Also, his back is covered in various criss-crossing scars.
Weapons: Sid carries no weapons, other then himself. He might use a pipe every now and then if it is absolutely necessary, but he prefers to use his hands. That way, he can lick off every last bit of flesh.
Short History: He can only say his name. You expect him to tell you his life story?
Other: Nada.
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Post by Pat on Oct 30, 2009 9:56:51 GMT 12
Bio format-
Name: Brendan Cen. (Pronounced Sen) Age: 13 Gender: Male
Appearance: Brendan is tiny and fairly scrawny. He’s around 5’4 in height, and has a slight covering of muscle. He has normal sized, dark eyes that look grayish/sapphire. Covering his left eye is a dark gray pad that looks like an eye patch. Why? Because he can. Anyway, fairly handsome, young looking, you get the point. On to clothing.
Brendan’s normal clothing consists of a semi-tight, black t-shirt that has an “American Eagle” logo on the front in gray block letters. He also wears jeans that are fairly tight around the waist, ankles, and knees. He wears a standard, thick black belt with a silver eagle buckle, from which hangs a holster. Overtop of his t-shirt is a thick, padded vest with long sleeves attached. The vest is black, while the sleeves are light gray.
Weapons: On the left side of his belt is his father’s pistol, loaded with eight bullets, as well as two extra clips, one filled with standard bullets and one specially made. The clip that is loaded holds bullets filled with silver shards that explode upon impact. The second, non-standard clip holds small, dagger-shaped bullets that contain liquid nitrogen. Well, half of them do. The other half holds specially modified gasoline that is like a time-bomb when fired. Three seconds after the bullet leaves the barrel, it explodes in a shower of bullet shards and flames.
Brendan also carries a 5 foot metal pole. On either side, the pole is thicker then in the middle. At the top, there is a leaf-shaped blade that adds an extra six inches to the pole’s height. At the bottom, there is just a heavy, blunt end that is around an inch and a half thick.
Powers: Brendan can teleport anywhere he’s been to/seen enough to know where it is before. However, whenever he uses his power, it hurts him. Sometimes he’ll just be a bit winded and sometimes he’ll get a bloody nose or something worse, depending on the distance and how clear of a picture he has of the place. He doesn’t always go to the right place, either.
History: I hate histories. D=
Other:
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Post by Pat on Nov 4, 2009 8:49:38 GMT 12
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Post by Pat on Nov 4, 2009 8:50:06 GMT 12
Bio Format: Name: Adam. Age: 14 Gender: Male Nickname: Clock (see his power) Power: Adam can turn back the clock, or so he says. What he can actually do is slow down/freeze time. It’s hard to freeze time and keep himself moving at regular speed, let alone keep others unfrozen as well. Usually, when he keeps himself and others unfrozen, he gets a bloody nose or scraped palms and is fatigued for an hour or two, depending on how long he was using his power. Appearance: media.photobucket.com/image/male%20anime/wallpaperboi/Male/247c9013.png?o=19[/img]Except cut the hair to about shoulder length, make the shirt go down to his waist, and give him a plain black leather watch around his left wrist. And also, if that doesn’t look like a guy to you… Too bad. Personality: Short History: Other:
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Post by Pat on Nov 7, 2009 10:25:17 GMT 12
Name and Rank: PFC Sidney Locke. Race: Human/Enlightened. Age: 17 Gender: Male
Appearance: Sid has relatively dark skin from spending so much time in the sun. His eyes are a very dark green, almost black. It’s very hard to see the green in them unless you’re standing less than twenty four inches away from him. He looks normal; that is, unless you look at his chest or arms. Both are covered in rock-hard, dark emerald scales. The back of his right hand is as well. His left hand is normal. His face has dirt smudges everywhere, and his hair is filthy and so tangled he doesn’t even bother brushing it anymore. He still cuts it using his knife, though. It’s short, with bangs that barely brush his forehead. Also, his hands are hard and callused, and he usually wears a heavy leather glove on his right hand. As for clothing, Sid wears a sleeveless, dark gray beater underneath a ripped black leather jacket that is usually dusty and beaten. Hell, you don’t have much room for style out here in nowhere land. He also wears fitting jeans that he got someone to tailor specifically for him so they don’t make a rustling sound when they brush together. Finally, his glove and ankle-high, dark brown leather boots.
Armour & Weapons: Sid’s armour consists of hardened leather with interlocking metal plates sewn in. He wears a chestplate, a glove on his left hand as well as thick thigh pads and puts some inside his boots to protect his feet. His chestplate wraps under his groin to protect it, coming back up in the front to where it buckles with large straps of the same style as his armour at the shoulders. Finally, he wears a flexible metal helmet, insulated with rough, crusty leather that somewhat conforms to his head’s shape and makes it more comfortable. The visor is maroon and glows slightly when in dark environments. He can disable that, though. His helmet has night-vision and thermal vision built in, as well as 10x zoom. It also monitors his vitals, has a built in microphone and speaker, and keeps his face protected. It shows a diagram of his body on the HUD, with different shades of green, yellow, and red to show how badly he is hurt in the main parts of his body.
As for weapons, Sid carries around a nasty looking combat knife that’s blade is at least eight inches long. The hilt adds another four inches to its total length, making it a foot long. It’s strapped to the outside of his thigh, over his armour. He also carries his rusty old rifle, with a few attachments. There is a futuristic silencer on it that completely eliminates any sound except his grunts from the recoil. There is also a laser pointer on the bottom that, unlike most, shines an emerald light. Finally, there is a 3 inch, for lack of a better word, cannon; it’s located on the bottom and fires two projectiles: one is a small glass vial filled with liquid nitrogen, and the other is filled with highly flammable items, such as grass and oil. It passes through a small flame on the way out, so all it has to do is hit the target and it explodes in a fiery explosion. Both projectiles fire alternatively; it takes two pulls of the trigger to fire both.
Also, the projectiles are fed in through narrow tubes on either side of the barrel, with three inch retractable blades inside that are sharpened to within an inch of their life. Those babies’ll leave a nasty cut on you. And one more thing; they can also be triggered to release a chemical onto the blade that’ll make you bleed out if you don’t find a doctor, and quickly. The standard trigger to fire a bullet can be found on the handle (no duh). The secondary trigger (to fire the projectiles) can be found on the second handle, which can also be used for stability while firing. The last two triggers can be found on the back of the gun: the one to release the blades glows white and the one to release the chemical glows a dim orange.
History: If I’m one of those narbs… I blame public education! Anyways. Sid was born of a 16 year old girl who was raped by an Enlightened. She died while in labor. The doctor’s at the makeshift hospital took turns visiting him; they literally took shifts watching him until he was 13. They taught him many things; how to shoot hoops, how to speak French, German, and Latin, as well as basic education. They also taught him a lot about religion. Anyway, once Sid turned thirteen, the eldest doctor, who Sid trusted the most, was dying. He talked with Sid and told him that one of the doctor’s was a traitor who was planning on turning him over to the Enlightened to be raised as one of their own. So after the doctor died, not hours after, Sid ran, and ran, and ran. He ran until he was sure they would never find him, no matter what. He also happened to stumble upon a Resistance camp that, after a few hours of arguing and a few close calls, accepted him. They trained him and taught him as much as they could.
On Sid’s sixteenth birthday, they gave him an old assault rifle. He still uses it to this day. He also has a dirty little secret, though. He was promoted to PFC for “bravely risking his life to try and rescue his comrades”, which is a big fat lie. He and three other soldiers were trapped in an abandoned city that was crawling with Enlightened. One night, he went out looking for water to replenish their dwindling supply when he returned to camp to find them sitting around the fire, making jokes about his birthright. After a particularly unpleasant conversation with all of them, they went to sleep. The next morning he woke up early to go for a short jog in the surrounding streets. As he returned, he saw his comrades being attacked by a dozen Reptiles, as well as three Crows and a Berserker. He killed two Crows and a Reptile as well as firing a clip at the Berserker, but eventually turned and ran. His comrades didn’t stand a chance.
Other: Resistance or Enlightened?: Resistance
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Post by Pat on Nov 30, 2009 10:36:50 GMT 12
A boy, maybe in his late teens, stepped away from the dirt road. His foot made contact with grass, which made a slight crunching sound as it was pushed against the ground beneath him. The boy disappeared, then reappeared in the doorway of an old, rusted shed. He kicked the door, making it shatter, then walked into the shed, stooping so his head didn't hit the cobweb-filled roof. The walls were lined with carpenter’s tools, all covered in dust and webs.
The odd thing about the boy was that not an inch of skin was exposed. His clothing consisted of dark, faded, pretty tight jeans; a simple, leather belt that was about an inch wide and half an inch thick with a plain golden buckle; a long-sleeved black shirt; a thick, dark gray hooded winter coat, lined with fur on the inside; thick, beat-up, fairly flexible, dark brown leather gloves; a black beanie cap; black, tinted aviator sunglasses; a thin black scarf, tightly wound around his lower face; and finally, heavy black boots that came up to a few inches below his knee. The boy grabbed a heavy hatchet from the wall, weighed it, then flipped it in his hand so the blade was down against his wrist. Slowly, he raised it, putting it on a workbench. The hatchet’s handle was roughly two feet, with another six inches added by the blade. The boy picked up a nail gun next, twisted it so it aimed at his head, then dropped it on the floor and left it there. He saw a chainsaw but ignored it; too loud. Glancing around, he saw the hunting section of the shed, against the back wall. He picked up the hatchet with one hand, keeping it horizontal against his side, and shuffled over to it, dropping the hatchet on a stool. He gazed over the row of items, then picked up a heavily serrated knife, stared at it for a moment, then tossed it over his shoulder. It stuck in the shed doors, quivering from the impact force. He picked up a blunt knife, found a small, pocket-sized whetstone, and sat cross-legged on the floor, sharpening it. After what might’ve been hours, he finally had a sharp, slightly serrated knife. He tucked it into his belt, then returned to the wall. He inspected the other weapons, and then lifted a Savage 110, equipped with a cheap Bushnell scope. He looked down the scope, hefted it again, then nodded, grabbing the sling and attaching it. After that, he slung it across his back baldric-style, with the barrel peeking over his right shoulder, and hefted the hatchet again. He swung it slowly, then stopped and held it classic-lumberjack style, with the blade facing out and the hatchet itself resting against his shoulder. With that, he strutted out of the shed, leaving the doors open. Before he left, though, he reached into an inside pocket of his jacket, his hand reemerging with a small can of lighter fluid and a box of matches. He dropped the matches on the workbench he used previously, then quickly made a trail of lighter fluid from one end of the shed to the other, then used what was left on anything that would burn. He dropped the empty bottle on the floor, pulled a match from the box, lit it, and dropped it on the fluid. Then he stuffed the box back in his pocket and left, closing the doors this time. He took another step and disappeared. The only proof he was ever there were the scuffed boot marks on the ground and the burning shed, which was soon to be consumed by a roaring inferno. Apparently he was finished with whatever was in there.
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Post by Pat on Nov 30, 2009 14:37:52 GMT 12
Name: Most people refer to him as “Sinner”, and he has never corrected them. Age: 15 Gender: Male Race: Volatilis vir Race Description: “Volatilis vir” is the Latin phrase for “Winged man”. It is not the true name for what Sinner is, but most people have come to refer to him as it. Volatis vir are part of a string of mutated humans, which has resulted in winged humans. Basically, bird people. Their eye sight and hearing is better, and they are usually slim with lighter bones then humans. They are also usually stronger, as they have to support their entire weight while flying, and some are faster. Volatis vir are immortal. Personality: Will be revealed. >_> Appearance: darkhalo4321.deviantart.com/art/Chaos-in-the-rain-92387107Yeah… Except imagine two giant wings that are black with the occasional red stripe of feathers. They’re usually tucked tightly against his back, though, and hidden underneath his clothing. Also, he’s about 5’9, and is slim around the waist. Clothes: See the picture above. Except no arm-warmer thingies, just fingerless gloves that are worn and tattered. His clothing in general is a bit more tattered and beat up, and imagine a thin black traveling cloak as well that’s faded, tattered, worn… The same as all his other clothing. Also, no shoes or socks or anything. His feet are bare, not to mention cut up pretty badly. Pets: Sometimes he’s seen with a black bird of an unknown species on his arm. It is small, with a white line of feathers leading from the beginning of it’s beak up, over its head, and back down all the way to the end of it’s tail. It also has a trail of the same white feathers on the inside of its wings, going around the edge. His bird goes by the name of Damon. Weapons: Sinner carries no visible weapons. Short history: Nothing’s known about him, damn it! =P Faction: As of yet, neutral. Other: Thank you, Allie, for helping me find a picture! =D I didn’t use the one from the gallery you showed me, but I would’ve never thought of looking at specific galleries, so thanks again!
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Post by Pat on Dec 13, 2009 7:48:01 GMT 12
(( Anthony Break/17/Midnighter/Seer/Page #11 ))
Name: Anthony Break Age: 17 Midnighter or normal: Midnighter Appearance: Anthony is roughly 5’10, give or take an inch. He’s not fat, but he’s not muscular either. He’s pretty thin, with high cheekbones and normal lips, with regular sized eyes and a thinner-then-normal nose that looks as if it’s been broken several times. It’s at a slight angle, not noticeable unless you’re close enough to smell his breath. He’s not ugly, but he isn’t exactly a chick-magnet. His eyes are dark, almost black, with flecks of silver and grey in them that add a creepy magnitude to it all.
His eyes are – virtually always – covered by tinted, black aviator sunglasses with thin frames. You can see the outline of his eyes underneath them if you’re close enough to see the angle of his nose and smell his breath. His mouth is usually set in a thin, hard line, emitting the feeling that he’s completely indifferent about it all, or he’s just sleeping.
As for clothing, Anthony wears a black windbreaker over a black t-shirt that says “Live Free or Die Hard” in big white block letters. He also wears slightly baggy black jeans that are faded along the knees and are made of thin material. It’s all he could get before he left. He also wears a black hat with the New York Giants emblem on the front in white. Short black hair covers his scalp, barely touching his forehead, and he also has a little bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving recently.
As for everything else, he wears thin, black, leather gloves, dark brown leather boots, and keeps a fake ID saying he’s 21 in his wallet, which holds $36.78, a picture of him laughing with a little blonde baby girl on his knee, and a void credit card. His wallet smells like whisky and is kept in his left front pocket. Also, he keeps a multi-tool in his right front pocket that consists of a bottle opener, mini-saw, Phillips screwdriver, flathead screwdriver, a knife, and a small flashlight that shines a fairly strong light, not that it’ll help him for long. He also carries a long-dead cell phone that’s turned off. The GPS is disabled. Finally, he carries a kit to fix his glasses in his jacket pocket, should they ever break.
Class: Seer
Short History: Figure it out yourself. Other: Nada.
(( Samuel Stiller/15/Midnighter/MindCaster/Page #11 ))
Name: Samuel Stiller Age: 15 Midnighter or normal: Midnighter Appearance: Sam keeps a black baseball cap pulled low over his face, obscuring his dark blue eyes with the black cloud around the outer edge of the iris; his crew-cut black fuzz that covers the majority of his scalp; his thin, chapped lips; his normal sized nose; his higher-then-average cheekbones; and the thin burn scar below his left eye. He’s shorter then his lost step brother, standing at around 5’7 and a half. His arms and legs aren’t too muscular, but they are toned so he can run farther than a fat man chasing a Twinky and hurl a ball more then two feet.
He wears a simple black leather jacket; a plain black t-shirt that’s a little long and is tucked in on the left side; blackish/gray jeans that are fairly fitting and faded; his hat; fingerless black gloves that just barely expose his cut and bruised knuckles to the open air; ratty black sneakers with grey lines on them; and a thick, black leather belt. In his jacket pocket he keeps a wallet with $10.52 in it. He also keeps a switchblade in his front right pocket and a long, black, grease-stained rag in his front left. On the upper bicep of his right arm he has the Mindcaster symbol tattooed, but it isn’t visible unless he takes off his jacket and bends enough for his sleeve to roll up to his shoulder.
On his left wrist he wears a cheap, heavy, silver, analog watch that has blood stains scattered across the top. He usually has music blasting in his ears from an Ipod or CD player he’s managed to get his hands on to block out all the voices. He also refuses to touch anyone with his exposed skin, for fear of hurting them or shattering their sanity like glass.
Class: MindCaster
Short History: Nope.
Other: He’s Anthony’s step brother, except they got separated a few months ago and haven’t been able to find each other since.
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Post by Pat on Dec 19, 2009 10:55:04 GMT 12
Char Name/age/race/faction/your name
Bio Format:
Name: Cole Halfit Age: Looks around early twenties, late teens… Gender: Male Race: Volatis Vir Race Description: Check out the last bio, butt cheeks!
Personality: No thank you. =)
Appearance:
Clothes:
Pets:
Weapons:
Short history: Faction: (Nuetral, Resistance, or Hammer of Dawn)
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