If you want to play in my game of City of the Chosen (http://www.thecbg.org/index.php/topic,209841.msg221922.html), post your character idea here!
Though the initial batch of characters is locked in, there will be future opportunities to join the game! Characters posted here will be added to the game at the next opportunity.
If you have questions or comment, please refer to the discussion thread (http://www.thecbg.org/index.php/topic,209838.msg222037.html). Let me know either there or via PM if the character you want to play needs an item or trait that I haven't developed yet!
"I want to play but I haven't thought of a character yet"
[ic=Layla al-Zakiyya, the Alchemist's Daughter]
[ooc]There's her history! I'll do her appearance once I get out of class.[/ooc]
Born in the year 780 AD (or as she prefers, 154 AH), Layla bint Ibrahim al-Zakiyya was the daughter of Ibrahim al-Dimashqi al-Mufassir, a polymath who had traveled east from the old Umayyad capitol of Damascus to Baghdad, center of the ascendant Abbasid Dynasty. As such, there was not a center of learning or culture to rival it in entire the world. For a young girl born blessed with a mind as sharp as the edge of a knife and as open as the ocean, there was no better place to grow up. Ibrahim had earned his nickname and no small amount of notoriety for subjecting a number of holy texts, including the Quran, to an exegesis so thorough that it bordered on ruthless; as she sat listening at his feet, he made sure to impart the singular importance of reason as well as wisdom. Though she inherited her father's intellect, her ambition she got from her mother, for though they were content to tutor her, Layla knew she would never truly be considered an equal by the scholars of the House of Wisdom. As soon as she could read for herself, she hungrily devoured every text she could get her hands on. With a pot of pitch-black coffee always beside her, she studied history, theology, alchemy, anatomy, natural philosophy, metaphysics, and more, even going so far as to seek out the legendary Persian alchemist Jabir ibn Hayyan himself. Though her mind was driven firstly by reason, Layla also indulged in entheogenic mysticism, if only as a means by which she could unite the many disparate theories she had accumulated.
Layla carries a set of medical tools.
Elements: Dust, Frost, Smoke, Iron, Blood
Public Traits: None
[spoiler=Secret]
Non-Public Traits:
- Intelligent
- Good Judge of Character
- Cunning
- Watchful
- Telepathy
Carried:
[/spoiler][/ic]
[/list]
[ic=Saitoro]
Saitoro is a sober-faced and somber Japanese monk in his mid-twenties with a stubbled head (there having been little opportunity to shave at Azukizaka), dark eyes and a torn and bloodied set of Jyodo-Shinshu robes. A patch of dried blood on his left temple marks the last wound he took in battle - as do the light scars that run across his forearms from the lucky blows of poorly-trained ashigaru footsoldiers. His lean and too-gaunt build and the callouses on his hands mark out Saitoro to even a casual observer as far from the usual stereotype of a peaceful Buddhist monk.
Saitoro wakes with a daikyu longbow and a string of o-juzin prayer beads.
Saitoro was born in a monastery in Kaga Province in the late winter of 1538 after the group of pilgrims with whom his mother and her guards were travelling were attacked by bandits and narrowly rescued by warrior-monks of the Jyodo-Shinshu sect. Raised in the monastery after the death of his mother from pneumonia a few hours after his birth, Saitoro was named by the local abbot and brought up as one of the monks. During his adolescence, Saitoro's skill in martial arts led him to take the path of a Monto or warrior-monk and when the Ikko-Ikki Rebellion began in nearby Mikawa Province early in 1564, he was one of many Jyodo-Shinshu monks who crossed the border to lead the local peasants against the samurai aristocracy. Saitoro was taken a few hours before the uprising in Mikawa was brutally put down at the temple of Azukizaka.
Elements: Dust, Iron, Frost, Smoke, Blood
Public Traits: None
[spoiler=Secrets]
Watchful
Expert Archer
Focused
Martial Artist
Late Bloomer[/spoiler][/ic]
[ic=The Scarlet File / #89887]Name: Adriana Richter
Alias: Juliet
Birth: 14/3/67 @ 9:43 AM [New Victoria, Cascade Republic]
Death: 14/3/94 @ 2:57 PM [Los Angeles International Zone]
Cause of Death: Exsanguination leading to cardiac arrest
Known associate of the Matsuyama-Salazar Cartel. Wanted by international treaty in the Cascade Republic, Greater Dakota and the American Union for: homicide, human trafficking, manufacture and distribution of illegal substances, evading arrest, grand larceny, tax fraud.
Arrest attempt by Thiessen Corporate Police in the Los Angeles International Zone initiator of protracted exchange of gunfire between law enforcement personnel and subject. Subject suffered multiple gunshot wounds to lower abdomen. Expired en route to hospital.[/ic]
[ic=Red Red Rain]A moment of sudden clarity as the knife sank into her back. Of course. All the careful planning, the maneuvering. Arrangements and bargains made, deals struck, doubts placated and worries soothed. "No disruptions. She is a relic. With her gone we will both be free to act to our mutual benefit." he would have promised. Ironic. It was all meaningless. What good is a trap sprung that catches not its prey? What good is treachery in the face of power?
Her anger was a blade's edge. Red red rain, she thought. The knife clattered to the floor, followed closely by a hand, an arm, and a body. She danced aside as the bullet went past her. The staccato crack of gunfire rang out from the colonnade. She moved. Bullets struck where she had stood, but she was not there. "Kill her!" he cried. Poor Michael. She stepped forward and blood was on the marble floor. A sword brushed her skin. A sharp kiss. A gun taken and pressed to its owners throat, flesh torn and marred, powder burns around that sudden hole, more blood gushing onto that white marble floor. There was passion in death. Intimacy. It became her, she knew. It made her more beautiful. It was quiet then, and bodies lay sprawled all about her. There was blood on her porcelain skin and in her long blonde hair. Michael was dead, the angle at which his head met his body now fundamentally wrong. Poor poor Michael. She laughed, though there were tears on her face as she left that place.[/ic]
[ic=Juliet]Personality - Blood, Smoke, Frost, Dust, Iron
Public Traits - Physically Fit, Attractive
[spoiler=Secrets]Mundane Traits - Profession: Criminal (Primary: Blood, Secondary: Smoke), Secretive
Superhuman Traits - Lightning Reflexes
Items - Short Blade, A dried and once-brittle rose - pressed and laminated[/spoiler][/ic]
NPCs have worse stats than PCs. They start with 3 mundane traits, 1 bad trait, and 1 superhuman trait. I expect to make 2 NPCs for each PC. If nobody new joins that means 8 NPCs. I'll probably be posting 1 today (the 31st), 1 tomorrow, and then 2 on the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th.
[ic=Riccara Vaillancourt][spoiler=Picture](http://i.imgur.com/uV15lNd.jpg)[/spoiler]College age. Long, chestnut hair. Green eyes. Soft features. Pale skin. Bluejeans and blouse. Nose stud just small enough to not offend her elders and just prominent enough to show she's not without edge. Riccara is privileged with youth, beauty, charisma, and opportunity, but somehow has remained humble despite it. Her eyes shine with a sparkle of intelligence that's balanced by a soft smile. If the universe was just, Riccara would've been born with some sort of disability. But it isn't, and some people are simply better off than others. Riccara is one of them.
She is not carrying anything of note.
Riccara, or Rikki as she prefers to be called, was born on New Year's eve 1999 to a Canadian pharmacist and an American power plant manager. Her life, while punctuated by a couple deaths and the breakup of her parents in 2015, has been a paragon of healthy suburban living. Having moved to Portland, Maine as a young girl Rikki had a stable life and was popular enough to cement herself as a pillar of her social sphere as a young woman. Though her family was never particularly religious, she regularly volunteered at her grandmother's church. She went through a brief punk phase as a teenager, but grew out of it as she started college at USM. In school she studied web design and computer science while pursuing a secondary interest in illustration. Though she kept it mostly secret, Rikki has some fairly geeky interests, most notably being superhero comics. Despite dating a remarkably large number of people, she never was interested enough in other people to keep a steady boy or girlfriend. Her safe and comfortable life has gifted her with a calm and friendly demeanor, but left her unexposed to the harsher sides of life. Given more ambition and the right experiences she could've probably become a senator or other person of power.
Elements: Frost, Blood, Dust, Smoke, Iron
Public traits: Young, Attractive
[/ic]
[ic=Bastien "Mcgregor"]
British Guy
20 y.o (2000 yr when abducted)
Combed-back short hairstyle
Chestnut-brown eyes
Little sideburns
Physically fit and nice looking
Black overcoat, white shirt, black jean and boots
[spoiler=image](http://www2.picturepush.com/photo/a/12568675/oimg/Anonymous/Bastien-Mcgregor.jpg)[/spoiler]
Frost, Dust, Blood, Smoke, Iron
medium sized weapon: as long as a quarterstaff but half its lenght is a sword
Born in Bristol, England, (with scottish heritage)lived a normal life excep for the fact that everything he tried to do, even if that was the first time doing it, was done like he was an expert. Then "the girl" found him and developed some kind of interest about him. She found potential where he only could see luck. Then she teached him all she knew about the "hidden face of the world" and trained him in physical and ranged combat.
Upon his "graduation" her master was about to tell him the reason about all of that training and his real "potential", but then she fell dead in front of his eyes. This make him insane and tried to "resurrect" her with the knowledge he acquired on the two years training, but lost conciousness..... and almost his life.
The next time he woke up he was living a normal life with his previous family and have forgotten all the things he lived with his master. A small heart shaped amulet with a lily on his center was the only thing that keep with him, a belonging of his master. The Amulet brings him fragmented memories, and keeps remembering the life he had, and the knowledge and power he has lost.
Public Traits:
Physically fit
Attractive
[spoiler=secret]Traits
Melee Weapon Training
Firearm Training
Super Human Traits
Fragmented:
Feral Traits: Naturally Happy, Berserker Blood, Frost, Dust, Smoke, Iron
Controlled Traits: Natural Leader, Cunning. Frost, Dust, Blood, Smoke, Iron
Wise Traits: Intelligent, Watchful Dust, Frost, Blood, Smoke, Iron
Items
Heart shaped amulet with an heraldical lily on its center[/spoiler][/ic]
[ic=Jens Faber]
[spoiler=Picture]
(http://i.imgur.com/mhW82LG.jpg)
[/spoiler]
Best described as "rough", Jens is a tall man of Germanic heritage. He sports a thick head of deep brown hair accompanied by an unkempt beard and moustache. His skin is tan and weathered and his musculature well defined. His eyes are weary yet still shine with a deep intelligence which scrutinizes and analyzes all it sees. His clothing matches his looks, being a homemade ensemble of handspun cloth, fur, and hide.
Despite his appearance Jens actually hails from a time in which humanity has reached the stars, spreading across over a hundred light years of the milky way galaxy. Unlike the many billions of humans that enjoy the modern technology of his time, Jens was born into a family of naturalists who believe that humanity should revert to it's basic "natural" roots. Earth has been largely depopulated by expansion into the stars combined with numerous efforts to preserve the cradle of humanity and so remains in stark contrast to the thick megalopolises throughout the galaxy. It is now home to naturalists such as Jens who was born very near to what was once Oslo, Norway. His parents passed on due to disease and Jens was left to fend for himself. This has made him a hardened realist who values tenacity and diligence but the isolation has also bred within him a longing for companionship and interaction and Jens relishes those moments he gets to socialize with others. While he is honest, he does recognize that sometimes deception is necessary for the greater good. He expects tolerance and unity from others and is not afraid to start something if he feels someone is jeopardizing things through selfish actions.
Elements: Frost, Iron, Dust, Smoke, Blood
Traits:
Natural Leader
[spoiler=Secret]
Mundane Traits
Focused
Medic
Intelligent
Superhuman Traits
Invisibility
Items:
iron whittling knife
pouch of medicine
[/spoiler][/ic]
Another NPC. I'll be posting many NPCs over the next few days to handle the increased number of players, so speak up if you haven't specified your power/origin and you don't want me to accidentally take your schick.
[ic=Hong Gyeong-su][spoiler=Picture](http://cfile233.uf.daum.net/image/143B2B334F41270701FC44)[/spoiler]Gyeong-su stands stiff as a nail. Though his face shows some signs of age, his body looks perfectly at ease in the suit of steel scales he wears, as though he were a dragon made into a man. Gyeong-su's eyes dart here and there. He betrays no emotion, perhaps having learned to to hide it and perhaps simply being as calm as a stone. Gyeong-su is quiet. When he speaks his words are sharp and direct, as though barking orders and just barely keeping his volume at a normal level. Gyeong-su's hand is welded to the grip of his sword.
Hong Gyeong-su wears a suit of steel armor and wears a one-handed "In Geom" (tiger sword) on his hip.
Hong Gyeong-su was born in 896 to a family of farmers in the Hanju province of Korea. A middle child, he had little involvement with his family, and at 16 he left home to join the Taebong army in 912. During these years the land of Korea was fiercely divided from the fall of the Silla kingdom, and there was much for Gyeong-su to learn from military life. As the years went by, Gyeong-su proved his loyalty and skill in battling rebels and in skirmishes with other kingdoms. He was promoted to being an officer, and in 918 when Taejo Wang Geon was installed as the new king of Taebong by military coup, Hong Gyeong-su gained the eye of his superiors by leading his unit against the previous king, Gung Ye (and even being present at the battle where he was slain). Under Wang Geon's rule, the young officer thrived in a life of military discipline and honorable victory. Wang Geon eventually conquered and united the Korean peninsula under the banner of "Goryeo" in the year 936. With the fighting over, Gyeong-su tried to make a life for himself, but having spent over half his life as a soldier he never truly found it possible to consider things like marriage and business. Instead, Gyeong-su settled into a position as an honored instructor for the imperial guard. There he spent the next seven years of his life, each day structured to be as refined and perfected as possible. In the summer of 943 his beloved emperor, Wang Geon, died of disease, and so Hong Gyeong-su packed his things. His last memory is of setting out on foot for his brother's farm in Hanju.
Elements: Iron, Dust, Frost, Blood, Smoke
Public traits: Loyal
[/ic]
[ic=Oryx the Exile][spoiler=Picture](http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4107/5036845476_0039cd7402_z.jpg)[/spoiler]Oryx is a teenager; an epitome of youth and emotion. He stands at about 180cm tall, and his body exudes pure strength. He surges between being boisterous, violent, and brooding. He wears his feelings on his face and in his body. His barely clothed form dances when he speaks, filling in the gaps of his limited vocabulary. His face is young, but the scars on his body and the way he looks at the world tells of unusual depth of experience. His body is covered with little trinkets and marks. Rope bracelets, scar patterns, even the pattern shaven onto his head tell of a deeply cultural life.
Oryx carries a bundle of raw meat, still dripping blood.
In the autumn of 10,944 BCE, nearing the end of the ice age, there was a baby born under the constellation of the viper. It was a bad omen, but Moon woman and Lion man chose to ignore it. They named their newborn "Oryx child", and he was celebrated and blessed by all. The tribe, known as The Good People, was led by Strong Men like Lion. Recently they had invaded the Nile valley, coming from the south, and The Evil People of what would be called Egypt resented their coming. They made war with The Good People, but Lion and the other Strong Men fought them off. There was much game in the valley, and Oryx was a precocious hunter. When Oryx was 11, Lion died from a curse, and Moon woman was claimed by the Strong Man called Staff. Though he was one of The Good People, Oryx hated Staff man. He came to think that Staff had killed Lion, his father, because he wanted Moon woman for himself. Oryx became sworn brothers with another child named Toad, and the two of them took out their anger on the other children of the tribe. They fought and bullied whenever they could get away with it, sometimes even fighting with each other. At age 14 Oryx child and Toad child went on rebirth hunts, each coming back victorious. They became Oryx man and Toad man. In the spring of the next year Oryx could not stand Strong Man Staff any more, and so he challenged him to sacred combat. Though Oryx was fierce and strong as a crocodile, he was undisciplined and he was defeated. Staff, not wanting to anger Moon, spared Oryx's life. Oryx was still furious, however, and he stabbed Staff in the back with his spear. The Good People were outraged at Oryx's behavior. Staff survived the wound, and The Good People decided that Oryx was no longer one of The Good People. Toad, without any other friends, joined his brother in exile. The two men (who were truly boys) spent many months shadowing the tribe, hoping to be brought out of exile (for they surely could not turn to The Evil People). After nearly a year of foolishly plotting how to make war on The Good People, becoming Strong Men and winning the women of the tribe back, Toad decided to try and leave Oryx and seek forgiveness himself. Oryx was furious at Toad, and killed his brother in ceremonial combat. Striken with grief and rage, Oryx prowled the Nile Valley by himself for a few weeks before being Chosen.
Elements: Blood, Smoke, Frost, Dust, Iron
Public traits: Physically Fit, Young
[/ic]
[ic=Mary of the Gond][spoiler=Picture](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/5f/Woman_in_adivasi_village%2C_Umaria_district%2C_India.jpg/355px-Woman_in_adivasi_village%2C_Umaria_district%2C_India.jpg)[/spoiler]Garbed in a colorful sari and a remarkable amount of jewelry, Mary seems nice enough, if somewhat quiet. She tends to avoid eye contact with men and generally keep to herself. Neither young nor old, and neither gorgeous nor ugly, Mary is the kind of person who blends into crowds. When she doesn't think others are watching, she wears a frown and often stares at nothing; lost in thought.
She is not carrying anything of note.
In July of 1945, a couple of British missionaries found their way to a collection of farms in Madhya Pradesh, India. There they converted the local Gond tribes-people to Christianity and helped construct a Church. In December of that year, Mary was born as the third child of one of the farming families. She was given the first Christian name of the region. In 1946, as part of a general effort to withdraw from India, the missionaries left the Gond to practice Christianity by themselves. Within a couple months of their departure the farmers had returned to the old gods, and thus Mary was the last of the tribe to be given a Christian name. Growing up as a shy middle child, few remembered Mary for anything except her name, and she began to hate it and Christianity and the West. Several times she attempted to change her name to something more common, but in such a small community she found no success. At 15 she was married to a second cousin named Jagdish, who treated her well enough, but thought little of her as a person. Over the years she learned to keep her opinions to herself and focus her attention on her garden, and later, her children. In the 18 years that followed, Mary had four children, one boy and three girls, whom she loved with all her heart. In the year of 1979, after 33 years of simple living she was Chosen. Her thoughts are dominated by her family, and she dearly wishes to return home.
Elements: Dust, Iron, Smoke, Blood, Frost
Public traits: None
[/ic]
If some of these NPCs seem lackluster, remember that they each have a superhuman trait which isn't covered in their backstory, and each will unlock events for character development.
[ic=Vitus the Rogue]Vitus is a tiny man, probably no more than 140cm tall. He seems to sink into the massive bundle of dark, ragged clothes that cover him from head to toe. His face is covered by a massive beard and a layer of dust and grime, further hiding his appearance. It seems likely that he's never bathed in his entire life, and he practically embodies poverty and homelessness. He speaks in a strange, croaking sort of voice and walks with a bit of a limp. He seems old, but perhaps that's merely the result of hard living. His blue eyes seem to shine from beneath the filth, constantly scanning around him. He seems generally suspicious and unfriendly, speaking only when spoken to and offering no more than is needed.
Vitus is not carrying anything of note.
Vitus was born to a roman prostitute in 103 CE. His mother died shortly after childbirth, and Vitus was raised on the streets by being passed around to whoever had the compassion to feed and care for him. Miraculously, he survived childhood and managed to eke out a meager existence by begging food or coin from the more wealthy citizens. Vitus lived day-to-day, never daring to leave the streets of Rome and never being fortunate to find anything more comfortable than hiding from armed men and sleeping in forgotten corners.
Elements: Smoke, Dust, Blood, Iron, Frost
Public traits: None
[/ic]
Hoping I did this right...
[ic=John Dante]
Apperance: Medium, dark brown hair, wearing duster over suit and a fedora - a walking Archetype.
The roaring twenties. Not the best of times, not unless you were the kind of criminal lowlife that thrived on human pain and suffering. Thugs, mafiosos, yakuza, bankers, politicians - the scum of the Earth, the lot. Doesn't leave a working stiff much of a chance, and a rookie cop with more idealism than brains and political sense didn't have a chance. I figured I find some guy is beating on a dame, you throw the book at him, right? Well, when that guy is Rocco Soretti, son of Don Soretti, what you do is turn the other way if you know what's good for you.
I never knew much about what was good for me.
So I find myself 24, out of a job, and #0467BC;listed by anyone that uses Soretti's protection. If I had any brains, woulda gone to one of the other families, shown them the little black book I confiscated as evidence from Rocco. 'Course, if having brains was my thing, I'd still be a cop. Private practice, that was pretty much all I was good for. Managed to find a lawyer who wasn't dirty and starting pounding the pavement, looking for lost kids, digging up dirt for divorce cases, and looking over my shoulder for the Soretti's to punch my ticket. It ain't much of a living, but during the Depression, anything's better than starvation, so it's what I got.
Elements: Iron, Blood, Dust, Frost, Smoke
Public Traits:
Physically Fit
[spoiler=Secret Traits]
Professon: Investigator (Iron, Dust)
Idealist
Superhuman: Energy Projection (Electricity)
Firearm Training
Items:
Ammunition (X amount - how much??)
Weapon: Handgun
[/spoiler][/ic]
[ic=The Medicine Man][spoiler=Picture](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klxPN8Bn7So/TSJ714BJs7I/AAAAAAAAA7w/7u5B0nu3oHE/s1600/CROW%2BMAN.jpeg)[/spoiler]The Medicine Man has no name. He is an embodiment of melodrama, always speaking in grand riddles and ominous prophesies. He wears a painted face adorned with feathers and jewelry, matching the colorful assortment of clothes and beads that cover the rest of him. He rattles when he moves as the beads shake and he never directly answers questions. His stature is average and he does not appear particularly strong, but he moves unpredictably and without fear. His face is wrinkled, but he shows no slowness of age. When he tells stories, which is often, he gestures grandly, sweeping the room with is arms and drawing all eyes to himself. He is friendly, but strange. He offers to help, but never when expected.
He carries rattles and a whistle; sometimes using them to make music when he tells his stories...
The Medicine Man will not say where or when he is from, but an educated person might deduce he is Crow or Cheyenne and comes from a time before his people knew of the Europeans. He says that he was a traveler, and that he has no home and no family. He says that he trades stories for meals and medicine for favors. He says that he is as old as the world, and that his parents are the sun and the moon. He is lying, of course. He is always lying. Except when you most expect it.
Elements: Smoke, Iron, Frost, Blood, Dust
Public traits: None
[/ic]
[ic=Olga Surikov][spoiler=Picture](http://www.picanese.com/pics/ww2-female-russian-soldier-ja80.jpg)[/spoiler]Olga is a serious sort of woman. She stands up straight and stares directly at who she speaks to, as if challenging them to engage her as an equal. Her blond hair is long enough not be be unfeminine, but no longer than that. She wears no makeup and her clothing declares her as a soldier for all to see. Two medals are pinned to her left breast, telling of her service to her country.
She carries a Soviet combat rifle with an ease that shows she knows how to use it.
Olga Surikov was born in a small village in Siberia in 1916 to a grandson of the famous painter, Vasily Surikov. Her family was largely spared the horrors of the civil war, but her mother passed away in 1921 during the famine. An only child, she was raised by her father, who strongly supported communism. After the war, Olga grew up drenched in propaganda for the new Soviet state and came to idolize Lenin. His death, after the death of her mother, shook her up greatly. As a young teen she worked ceaselessly to promote communism and correct living whenever possible, by doing chores, saving food, or simply publicly cheering on the cause. At 17 she convinced her father to let her leave for Moscow to work for the party. She was confronted with many challenges there, but through discipline and dedication overcame them, eventually moving to Leningrad (St. Petersburg) and becoming a secretary for Boris Shaposhnikov. Despite many advances, Olga turned away all suitors, preferring a simple life of serving her country. When war returned to Europe, Olga was one of the first women to enlist. In the army she showed her courage and diligence several times, and was praised by her superiors. In 1943, as her unit was preparing to engage against the Germans once again, she disappeared without a trace.
Elements: Iron, Dust, Frost, Blood, Smoke
Public traits: Physically Fit
[/ic]
[ic=Jéssica da Flor de Seda][spoiler=Picture](http://abagond.files.wordpress.com/2009/12/laurynhill.jpg)[/spoiler]The woman called Jéssica seems to always be smiling, as though the world is a huge comedy made only to amuse her. Her makeup is strong enough to make her glow with beauty, but not so thick as to distract. Her chocolate skin and fine dreadlocks are accented by simple golden jewelry, and her stunning figure is shown off fantastically by a tight, revealing dress that could only belong to a whore. Which is what Jéssica is, and she loves it. Every action is a flirt and every move is an invitation. Her smile and attitude of fun are contagious, and she knows how to be just happy enough to be pleasant, without being annoying. Occasionally, Jéssica uses her power to walk around as a pair of Jéssicas. Jéssica almost never calls people by their names, instead inventing nicknames for each person.
She carries a cloth handbag.
Jéssica born out of wedlock in the spring of 1890 to a recently freed, African-Brazilian, plantation worker mother and the Portuguese, plantation owner father. Raised in poverty on the plantation, the young girl made fast friends with the children of the other workers. But alas, she had a terribly poor relationship with her father, who could see nothing in her except his own sin. As a teen, Jéssica became dissatisfied with life on the plantation and decided to move to the city and earn money for her mother. So she traveled to São Paulo and was quickly swept up by the Flor de Seda brothel. There she was taught the world's oldest profession, and she learned to hone her naturally friendly disposition into a hook for men. She serviced sailors and all manner of clients for eight years, becoming quite popular in her own way, until she was Chosen in 1914.
Elements: Blood, Frost, Smoke, Dust, Iron
Public traits: Attractive, Friendly, Naturally Happy, Clones
[/ic]
[ic=Emily White][spoiler=Picture](http://cdn.theatlantic.com/static/mt/assets/international/pulitzer%20oct18%20p.jpg)[/spoiler]Emily is 47 years old, but she doesn't look it. Her Chinese heritage and small-but-thick, glasses are obvious, but she seems much more like a nerdy 30-something than a grandmother. She wears a simple dress-shirt, khakis, and long leather gloves that nearly reach her elbow. She's fairly quiet most of the time, and seems to have a hard time keeping up with conversations. But when she speaks, she's clear and firm. Most of the time she seems to be twiddling with one thing or another, usually a bit of metal or circuitry that she gets from her backpack. She's shorter than most, and keeps largely to herself. In conversation she has an annoying habit of correcting other people's grammar.
She carries a black backpack.
Emily was born in Sydney Australia in 2003 to second-generation Chinese immigrants. When she was 10 years old she was clipped by a speeding truck, mutilating her right hand. As a young woman she was quite shy; always scared that others thought her ugly because of her injury. She spent most of her time on the internet and studying for school. Her hard work payed off as she graduated at the top of her class. She went to school at the University of Sydney and studied robotics. There she met Ken Yeung, another Chinese engineering student, and the two of them got married in 2024. (Emily decided to keep her family name as a small bit of feminist activism.) After graduation, she and her husband got jobs at TitanYum Automatic Chefs building robots to replace cooks at fast-food restaurants. They had two children together, both boys, and made enough money to afford an upper-middle-class lifestyle. In 2029 Emily decided to amputate her disfigured hand and replace it with a robotic limb, which she's kept upgraded through the years. She lived a stable, happy life, contributing to society and being rewarded for it, until 2051, when she mysteriously disappeared.
Elements: Iron, Dust, Frost, Smoke, Blood
Public traits: Tinkerer
[/ic]
I'm still not entirely certain what is going on with this game, but if I can still slide in here (the thread does say "there's still time")... I might give it a go since it seems like it doesn't involve too much time commitment.
I think this character fills a role that no other PCs filled yet.
[ic=Vic Fellowes]Vic Fellowes
[spoiler=Pictures]Vic (https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTBl2N1SYrYvBpwIOGfwgDWKRldM7ZQmY7qTfjhm_JwXUX1nB1pAg)
Products (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TKH89rXad2o/Tdb8tmO0g1I/AAAAAAAAQP4/cfFkWlX3OxA/s1600/snake91.jpg)[/spoiler]
"Puffy eyes and stuffed up face got your lover cheating? Runny nose got your friends fleeing? Lookin' for a Cure? Needin' it for sure! Then have I got a deal for you!" Snake oil salesman, traveler extraordinarie, and alleged long lost heir to the throne of France, Vic Fellowes (aka Claude Feldaire), is a snake-oil salesman and apothecary from 1880s Mississippi. He's ridden the Steamboats and he's made the deals and he's taken people for rides... and now he's on for the ride of his life.
Vic's about five foot seven, about an inch over average for someone of his era, and his face is a face that can be trusted. He has a quick smile, straight teeth, though stained by the teas he takes. He's a world traveler and easily adapts to new situations.
If it isn't yet obvious, Vic is one slick and one backhandedly mean sunova....
Elements: Smoke, Dust, Blood, Frost, Iron
Public Trait: Attractive
[ooc]Body Trait, Public, Frost
Provides +2 Frost in the Social domain. If this character is a PC, whenever your loyalty score increases on an NPC that is sexually compatable with you (gender+orientation) it increases by an additional +1.[/ooc]
Public Item: Medium (Medical Tools -- Grants +1 Frost in the Healing domain)
[spoiler=VIC!]
Firearm Training
Body Trait, Mind Trait, Dust
Provides +1 Dust in the Ranged Combat domain.
Provides an additional +1 Blood and +1 Dust in the Ranged Combat domain when armed with a gun.
Intelligent
Mind Trait, Dust
Provides +1 Dust in the Skill domain.
Whenever this character would normally gain a knowledge token, they gain two knowledge tokens instead. (Knowledge tokens, like unhappiness tokens, are relevant for events.)
Friendly
Mind Trait, Public, Blood
This character tends to get along with others very well. Provides +1 to all elements in the Social domain. (This does not count as providing Smoke for the purposes of Good Judge of Character.)
Precognition
Mind Trait, Superhuman, Dust
You can see where all other players are assigning their characters and change where you assign your characters accordingly. If another player has a character with this trait, they are immune to this ability.
Additionally, you gain knowledge of one event that will happen next turn.
ITEMS:
Small (Handgun (Ranged Weapon, Gun) -- +3 Deadliness; Requires ammunition; Provides +1 Blood in the Ranged Combat domain. (No ammo yet :())
[/spoiler][/ic]
Due to unexpected delays (like none of the players looking for an exit to the starting location on the first turn and updates taking days to write), the "second batch" of the chosen hasn't had the chance to make an entrance yet. That being said, I still intend to allow new players to join the game, and anticipate the entrance occurring around the start of June.
Anyone who is interested should post a character here.
Light Dragon and Steerpike, if you're still interested, please speak up. (And I fully understand if either of you have changed your mind.)
Attention all people!! This game is open to new players! Please at least state interest as soon as you can. After this window new players will only be accepted on a case-by-case basis. If you'd like, I can also have your character join now and go into stasis if you're not quite ready to play.
P.S. I'll also be making a bunch more NPCs for the next batch of Chosen. I'll take requests, if anyone has an idea. :D
[ic=Jarji of the Mountain][spoiler=Picture](http://raelifin.com/files/pics/jarji.png)[/spoiler]Jarji is a rough sort of man. Untamed by many long long years of life by himself. He wears simple but well-made wool clothing. He's younger than he looks, having wrinkled and grayed under the back-breaking work of a vegetable farmer on sub-par land. His teeth are rotted and he's not kind, but there's a kind of wisdom to him, if you know where to look. Jarji makes it his business to convert people to Christianity and make sure that they're acting according to god's plan. He's not particularly quiet or particularly loud, but in conversation he's quick as a whip and always has a snappy retort, even if it's not particularly kind.
He caries a long-handled spade.
Jarji was born in mid-4th-century Caucasian Iberia, known to him as Kartli, or what we would recognize as eastern Georgia. He grew up through the rise of the Christian church as the official religion of the kingdom, and came to believe in it fiercely and associate it with purity and morality. At 22 he married a neighbor, but was unable to father any children. Four years after marriage, his wife died of an unknown disease, and it thus fell to him to look after his father's farm. The farm itself was fairly lackluster, and took up a major section of rocky soil on one of the many mountains, but Jarji is a competent and hard-working man who managed to eke out a decent living despite it. With no family left and unable to attract another wife (possibly due to being poor and possibly due to rumors of infertility), Jarji came to accept that he would be the last of his line. The only time when he saw people, and had the opportunity to apply his quick tongue, was in church, which he devoted all of his free time towards. By Jarji's thinking, if he couldn't have a good life he'd be damned if he didn't have a good afterlife.
Elements: Iron, Dust, Frost, Blood, Smoke
Public traits: Mean
[/ic]
Ok. I am impressed by the extent you have worked on updates and by the low time commitment of this game. I still don't really like the setting or the theme or really get it, but the quality of your writing and your loving work really shines through.
I will admit that I read a number of private updates from the first 2 weeks of the game; I also assure you that I remember almost no details and I forgot the lion's share of what I read; and even if I did remember, I wouldn't use the information to my advantage.
Can my previously posted character slide in? I fear he won't be anywhere as successful as if he'd started out in the game on week one :(. In fact, I'd not be surprised if he dies in 3 or 4 turns time given how I wanted to play him. But I can give it a try.
Yes! You're welcome to join! I trust you on the private info. Almost all of the stuff from Turn 1 and 2 is unimportant at this stage, anyway.
Your character will be a little behind the others, but there's actually a good chance that you'll come out ahead in the long-run. Since you're starting from the second-batch of Chosen and since it seems like you may be the only one, you'll have a major opportunity to gain a large number of allies. (Another player may compete with you on that front, but I'm not holding my breath there.) The game is actually shaping up to be quite cooperative so far, so I wouldn't worry too much about getting killed unless you do some really aggressive actions towards the combat-oriented players. The structure of the game also makes play interesting and viable even if you're a weakling compared to the others (which you're not by a long-shot).
I appreciate the kind words about my writing, even if you're not a particular fan of the setting. ^_^ (Is it too weird? Unorthodox pseudo-steampunk/fantasy+mystery+superheroes makes it very different from a lot of stuff.) I'm always happy to adapt my games to the interests of my players, so if you want to talk about it, I may be able to shape it into something more towards your tastes.
------
@Everyone: I'm totally done with the fluff for the primary 4 players, have all the events done for Juliet and Saitoro, and about half of John's events. I'll probably update on Thursday given that I'll be writing some stuff for Vic Fellowes, but I may slip to Friday.
Thanks Raelifin!
I think it's I just don't really like amnesia-type plots and the system seems odd (in a good way, but it's like nothing I have seen before), and once again I DO like your talent. :)
I also like your allocation system for turns.
@LD: Technically it's not amnesia as much as it is "kidnapped and taken to a magic world a la labyrinth (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091369/)" but I can understand where you're coming from. The problem is that the players don't have any base ties to the world, so they feel really disconnected and inconsistent. That aspect, along with the growth of the Chosen into having a relationship with the City, is one that I hope to explore (and already have with a couple characters).
-----------------
[ic=Park Yoon-Ji][spoiler=Picture](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G_ySN4YtXA8/UTyMnsb2gJI/AAAAAAAACrA/1UfPP-oq2gY/s1600/2128-YounSunNah.jpg)[/spoiler]
Yoon-Ji has her friends call her "Lilly". "It's an English word that means flower." she tells them, even if they already know more English than her. She's an artist. She's a musician sometimes. But no... she's not very good at the guitar. She's a better painter. Well, okay... technically she's a bank teller, but she just works that job to earn enough to go to art school! She's been doing that for about ten years... Hey. It's a good paying job. But she'll be a famous artist someday. Then she'll have someone else count her money.
At night she transforms out of her prim and proper business clothes and messes up her hair in just the sort of way an artist would. I mean does. Just the way an artist does. Because Yoon-Ji Lilly is an artist. Ignore what her parents will tell you. She gets distracted easily, and forgets to laugh at jokes that she knows someone is telling. She doesn't mean anything by it, really. She hates being told what to do (artists are supposed to be free, you know?) but she happily follows suggestions that her friends make. She never really stays on one topic too long. She likes telling people about herself, she hates violence (even violent art), and is fascinated by fish (ever think about what it'd be like to be one? (whoa)). Sometimes when she's talking she'll get distracted and just fade into...
Yoon-Ji is an only child. She lived in Seoul in a studio apartment with about 200 fish. She's 28, and can act her age when she needs to. She's surprisingly good with numbers, but she never got good grades. She works out regularly. She's always wanted to visit America. Her favorite band is Nirvana. She has two boyfriends, but they don't know about each-other, and neither are particularly serious. When she was taken the year was 1993. She's worried that someone's going to end up killing her fish.
She wears a casual dress with fish designs that shows off her toned form. Above it she wears an overcoat and an acoustic guitar is slung across her back.
Elements: Smoke, Blood, Dust, Frost, Iron
Public Traits: Attractive, Physically fit[/ic]
[ic=Estrella Salazar]Señorita Salazar stares at the people she doesn't like, which is most everyone. She rarely speaks when a gesture will do, and is cold and untrusting as the desert night. Once upon a time she was more relaxed, but the last few years beat that out of her. She's in her early 30s and her skin is deeply tan from long hours under the sun. She keeps her coal-black hair long, but tied back in a thick braid. Her range coat, brimmed hat, jeans, and boots make it clear to those who are knowledgeable that she's from the american west, but her stiff Spanish words mark her as Mexican. Her meager diet has left her already narrow face unattractively gaunt. She wears a black bandanna around her neck to cover the scar from when she was hanged.
She wears a shotgun on her back.
Estrella Salazar was born in 1798 to a loving couple of Spanish immigrants to what is now known as New Mexico. She was raised on the farm, and learned to handle a horse, gun, and livestock. At 15 she ran off with a Spanish outlaw named Negro Alfonzo. For a couple years she traveled with his gang, stealing, killing officials, and occasionally kidnapping someone important. Though she never personally hurt anyone, she supported Alfonzo, seeing his efforts less as random crime (which it pretty much was) and more as part of the rebellion against Spain. When she was 17 she connived a child with Alfonzo, and while he had no intention of being a caring father, she was able to stay with him for a time. A rival gang, striking back at Alfonzo for betraying them, kidnapped Señorita Salazar and hanged her. The Spanish authorities were tipped off to the kidnapping, and were able to cut her down before she fully died. She sustained minor brain damage (which largely healed in later years) and miscarried in her third trimester. Her neck still bears the mark of that deadly rope.
Abandoned for dead by Alfonzo, the señorita became a drifter for a couple years, surviving mostly by leveraging the appetites of men and her skill as a farmhand. In 1818 she found work at a ranch run by a kind family of the name Polo. Señor Polo treated Estrella like a daughter and taught her to trust in people again. Over the years she worked tending his cattle and became one of the family. Eventually she became strong enough to leave the ranch and reconnect with her estranged parents. For several years she was very happy, and she traveled across the new nation of Mexico (its independence mirroring Estrella's own return to happy life) visiting with her old family and working with her new one. She even fancied one of Señor Polo's sons, though he was many years younger than her, and she lacked confidence in her ability to make a relationship work.
And then the Comanche made her life hell. They killed her defenseless parents without, from Estrella's perspective, any provocation. As she traveled south to attend to their funeral, they hit the Polo ranch, killing her adoptive family as well. For about a year afterward she hunted them as a lone warrior, and did successfully murder a few men who got unlucky, but ultimately she was too inept to enact the sort of revenge she desired. So she returned to the Polo ranch, which had lost almost all of its livestock and goods in the raid and to thieves. There she made a meager life, trying in vain to rebuild by herself. During this time she successfully fought off other Indian raids and killed a tax collector when he asked her to show the deed to the property (which she'd never found).
Señorita Salazar has seen more than her fair share of death and evil, and she has more than her fair share of it within her, but she still remembers her life with the Polos and knows that it's not all bad.
Elements: Iron, Blood, Smoke, Dust, Frost
[/ic]
[ic=Lucie de Toulouse][spoiler=Picture](http://img.gawkerassets.com/img/18iy59w78ehnmjpg/k-bigpic.jpg)[/spoiler]Lucie is almost 6 years old. She's also a noble. She's also adorable (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=381bv0_Gpo8). Her hair is brown and her eyes are blue. She wears a frilly dress that matches her eyes. Like most children, she is curious, quiet around strangers, naive, oblivious to many things, and playful.
She is carrying a porcelain doll.
Lucie is the eldest child to the Count of Toulouse, and as such she's technically the heir to the county. She had a healthy and somewhat spoiled upbringing in the 1070s, sheltered from most of the horrors of medieval France.
Elements: Blood, Dust, Smoke, Frost, Iron
Public Traits:
[ooc=Child]Body Trait, Mind Trait, Public, Blood
-1 to all elements except Blood in all domains.
An additional -1 to all elements in the Strength and Politics domains.[/ooc][/ic]
[ic=Mu Qi]Oh damn. He's late again. He's always late. Mu Qi scrambles around even when he's not late. There's always something to be done, and he won't let the next thing creep up on him! Oh wait... that's right now! He forgot! Documents to sign. Scrolls to read. And always, ALWAYS, things to be recorded. Brush and ink are Mu Qi's trade. He is a scribe. His fingers are stained black and his hands have seen more than their fair share of ink, as well. The only times when the young Chinese man doesn't seem to scramble is when he's either writing, talking, or listening. Language seems to calm him, and the absence of it frightens him. As such, Qi talks to himself whenever he thinks other people won't mind (or aren't around). The man is thin as a stick, and abnormally short, with small black eyes (which seem always to be squinting, as if everything is too far away) and only whispers of facial hair on his upper lip. He's brilliantly smart in his own way, and highly attentive, but not exactly the sort of person who is fun at parties.
Mu Qi wears fancy silk robes (Hanfu), and carries a satchel that seems to be overflowing with scrolls.
Qi is a second-to-youngest child in a house of seventeen children (across two women). The Mu family was never poor, but not exactly rich, either. Qi grew up around people, and he never quite grew out of the feeling that being alone is somehow wrong or dangerous. Simultaneously, as a small, weak, middle-child, Qi learned to mind his place and stay out of trouble. Qi grew up in Xuchang, and had the fortune to be born roughly at the same time that it was made the capital of the empire. In 200 AD, as war was brewing in the countryside, Qi's father was invited to visit the imperial court and bring his children with him. While waiting, Qi, then aged only six years old, impressed one of the chief scribes of the court by reading a paper that Qi's father was having trouble with. The scribe offered to take Qi as an apprentice, which his father eventually agreed to early in the next year. Qi served the court well, and proved to all that he was a natural with brush and ink. His only downside being his lack of organizational skills and tendency to forget appointments and deadlines. Though he was never the most valued scribe, he was useful enough that in 211 he transitioned to serving Chancellor Cao Cao himself (along with a few others). It was a great honor to Qi, and he did his best not to mess it up until 218, when he was chosen.
Elements: Dust, Iron, Blood, Frost, Smoke
Public Traits: None
(P.S. For those who are unfamiliar with Mandarin, "Qi" is pronounced similar to "Chi" in English.)[/ic]
Mu Qi's (also Chinese) opposite:
[ic=Chan Feng][spoiler=Picture](http://pad2.whstatic.com/images/thumb/b/bf/Mr.-Bouncer.jpg/251px-Mr.-Bouncer.jpg)[/spoiler]
Chan Feng is almost two meters tall. He's a hundred and thirty kilograms. His head is bald. He doesn't take any shit. Feng is his body. He doesn't think when he doesn't have to. If he bothered to spell out a personal philosophy, it would be that his head is there to make sure he gets what his body deserves. He doesn't talk when he doesn't have to, but he's not a quiet man when he does. He's direct, and to the point, and unflinching in his desires. He likes sports (American football and Sumo are two favorites), food, and martial arts. When he's not busy he often does exercises, stretches, or practices his Kung Fu and Krav Maga techniques. Though he isn't public about it, those who get to know Feng soon pick up from his body language that he's more interested in men than in women.
He wears a tee-shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, and occasionally a pair of sunglasses.
Feng was born in 2008 in Hong Kong. His father left a few days later, and was later found living in Saigon. Feng grew up in a tough part of the city, and was pushed into martial arts at a young age by his mother. Being physically massive gave Feng the upper-hand in martial arts and sports, and he rarely got into trouble unless he sought it. Feng's mother became a drunk when he was young, and Feng did his best to take care of her. The experience made Feng less tolerant of what he saw as injustice, and in school he quickly became known as the kid to see if you were being bullied. Of course, this meant that Feng got into lots of fights with some of the toughest children all through his school years, often standing up to bullies that were several years older. At 13 his mother died in a car accident and he moved across town to live with his grandparents. As a teenager he dropped out of school and spent most of his time either in his Kung Fu training hall or lurking around nightclubs and gay bars. Once he was old enough, he got a job as a bouncer, which he enjoyed quite a bit. He lived with various men for several years before renting a small apartment near the club where he worked.
Elements: Iron, Blood, Smoke, Frost, Dust
Public Traits: Physically Fit[/ic]
[ic=Mark "Thaba" Jacobs][spoiler=Picture](http://www.afro.com/multimedia/photos/76416/AP70010101191.jpg)[/spoiler]
On a good day Thaba is a brilliant mind and a kind soul. He smiles to everyone he talks to, and does his best to be courteous and professional. Highly extroverted, Thaba is most alive when he's explaining or debating a theory of genetics or virology. While he's clearly an academic, he doesn't come across as disconnected or aloof. His English is flawless and he's quick to lend a sympathetic word. On a bad day Mark Jacobs hates the world. His eyes are bloodshot, he coughs with every other word, and stays away from social situations. His body curls up as if he wants to turn into a stone, and when he talks to people he has a habit of berating them for trivial things. Everyone has their bad days, when they're sick, tired, and just need some sleep. Unfortunately, Mark Jacobs has more bad days than most.
Jacobs wears a business suit, horn-rim glasses, and caries a briefcase.
Mark Jacobs was born in Johannesburg in 1933 to a half-white father and a fully-African mother. His family was poor, but they made it their focus to see that Mark had a good education. In school he showed great talent, especially in math. Though he had some bad experiences, he overall grew up to be a socially skilled, confident, intelligent young man. Thanks to the kind help of a teacher, Mark managed to secure a scholarship to study at Harris–Stowe State University in St. Louis, Missouri. He moved to the USA in 1952 and set to work on a degree in biology. Though racial discrimination was rampant in Johannesburg, it took moving to a new place to really highlight the issue of racial tensions to Mark. In 1956 he set to work on a Ph.D. in virology at Harris-Stowe. While he considered moving to another town, he had become deeply involved in the civil rights scene in St. Louis and didn't want to give it up. In 1959 he began to date Anabelle McCormack, a young white woman working on her undergraduate degree who had been hired to work in Mark's lab. Unfortunately, Anabelle's father did not at all approve of the relationship, and ended up hunting Mark down and nearly beating him to death with a baseball bat. Mr. McCormack was frightened off by the authorities, who later caught him and put him in prison for attempted murder. Anabelle moved away even as Mark made a miraculous recovery. When he was fit again, Mark finished his doctorate and became a professor of biology at Harris-Stowe, attaining dual citizenship as well. In the mid sixties he became a leader in the local civil rights movement and was a particularly strong proponent of the re-adoption of African culture by black Americans. Despite never really having a "traditional" African heritage (his parents spoke English and were factory workers), Mark took on the name "Thaba" to reconnect with his roots. In 1968 Thaba returned to South Africa in response to his mother becoming ill. There he became a professor at the newly formed Rand Afrikaans University, which he worked at until he was chosen in 1970. Though he was a successful and well-mannered man, Thaba never pursued romantic involvement after Anabelle. The near-death experience at the hands of her father instilled a deep fear in him, and it killed his ability to comfortably date other women.
Elements: Dust, Frost, Iron, Blood, Smoke
Public Traits: None[/ic]
Please excuse me if I missed it, but any chance we'll see any Labor Union activists (in the vein of the US' Caesar Chavez) or Jesuit priests? (either Matteo Ricci types or mission-running ones in South America, or French Jesuits converting Amerinds on the Mississippi River), or perhaps an Egyptian Pharaoh who is used to ruling...probably not good to suggest competition for me in the most recent pod though :D. Just thinking of some potentially interesting archetypes.
I actually have a union-worker/activist already planned! I had considered some sort of ancient king (was leaning towards Mesopotamia) but decided against it. A Jesuit priest sounds really fun, though, and it gives me another chance to make a South American character. I also have a builder-woman from Burma and a (probably female) cyborg from a south-pacific seastead planned.
[ic="Un Sacerdote"]
Quote from: Ignatius Loyola"Whoever desires to serve as a soldier of God beneath the banner of the Cross in our Society ... should, after a solemn vow of perpetual chastity, poverty and obedience, keep what follows in mind ... he should show himself ready ... to perform any other works of charity, according to what will seem expedient for the glory of God and the common good."
"That we may be altogether of the same mind and in conformity with the Church herself, if she shall have defined anything to be black which to our eyes appears to be white, we ought in like manner to pronounce it to be black."
"...yet we must also recommend the fear of God; and not only filial fear, but servile fear, which is very useful and often even necessary to raise man from sin..."
Tall, but not awkwardly so, the man speaks in a deep and rough voice, his Spanish flowing and elegant like a lowland river. He wears all black except for his mask, which is pure white porcelain, and his priest's collar, which is rarely visible. Upon his head is a broad-brimmed hat, flat and simple. Beneath it he wears a hood, and veil. His eyes and nose are covered by a mask, and below he wears the robes of a priest. On his hands are simple, black gloves. The only visible skin is that near his eyes. On his hip is a longsword with an ornate silver handle and decorated scabbard. He stands up straight, holding his hands behind his back most of the time. He does not give his name, and when asked replies "Soy un sacerdote" ("I am a priest") as if that were all the information one could need.
Within his robes he keeps a small Spanish bible, which he often reads from when not otherwise occupied. The sword on his hip is bound with cord, and it is unclear if he ever would (or knows how to) use it.
The man does not talk about his past, but a watchful and patient observer will gather some basic facts. He is a priest, more specifically a catholic, and more specifically a Jesuit. He is roughly thirty years of age. Before he was chosen he lived in what would later be called Paraguay. He hails from some time around the 17th century. He has a disease that disfigures his skin. He is incredibly religious almost to the degree of fanaticism, but is careful to choose his words so as to not become at odds with others. He is deathly afraid of fire. He is in pain regularly, but tries not to show it. His face is more disfigured than the rest of him. His sword is his most prized possession. He will never let an opportunity for charity or kindness go unanswered.
Elements: Smoke, Frost, Iron, Blood, Dust
Public Traits: None[/ic]
[ic=Mya][spoiler=Picture](http://wanderlustandlipstick.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Burmese-woman.jpg)[/spoiler]
Daw Mya demands respect and deals in smiles. Her face is painted with thanaka and alive with emotion. When she's happy she grins. When she's angry you'd best get out of her way. Mya is heavy-set, but not exactly fat; much of it is muscle. Her voice is low for a woman, and she's fairly short. In her many years of working her hands have become rough and calloused. Her black hair is worn up, and her dark eyes seem to sparkle when she laughs. Daw Mya wears a simple shirt, longyi, and sandals.
She is carrying a box of tools.
Mya was born under the name Lwin to two of the more influential members of a rural Bamar village in northern Burma during the late 16th century. The village was more of a trade-center for local farmers, only possessing a few dedicated residents. Lwin was one such resident, as her father was a repairman who would fix broken tools and carts that were brought in from the various farms. The eldest child amongst all girls, Lwin learned to help her father, and eventually took over as a repairwoman when he died. When she married Kol, the village healer, she changed her name to Mya. For over two decades she remained happily married, doing odd jobs and fixing things for the community. For a reason unknown to her, she and Kol were never able to have children, though she had many nieces and nephews whom she tended as if they were her own. Mya is a spiritual woman, and regularly prays and sacrifices to her deities which are a local variant of the Hindu pantheon.
(The word "Daw", which she includes before her name, is an honorific similar to "Mrs." that indicates that she's respected as pillar of her community.)
Elements: Blood, Iron, Dust, Smoke, Frost
Public Traits: Physically Fit, Naturally Happy[/ic]
[ic=Naz, the Broken]Naz is young. Barely 18 years old, in fact. Her belly bulges outward and it is clear that she is with child. She doesn't speak unless she has to. She stares with suspicion and hatred from her cold blue eyes. Her tanned face is long and beautiful, despite the scars from pox. Her hair is straight and black as night, having been well cared for over the years. Her clothes are ragged and dirty. Her arms are almost always crossed beneath her breasts. She never makes eye contact for more than a second. Despite being stubbornly silent she refuses to be alone, always following others. Her feet are bare and battered, covered in callouses from a life of never knowing shoes. Her back is covered in scars from lashings. She hates everyone, herself most of all.
She has nothing.
Naz was born to a teenage girl named Shams and the owner of a date farm named Kouros in the year 420 BC. Kouros owned many slaves, all of whom had to work his farm while he enjoyed a life of relative luxury. The girl slaves were forced to serve as his personal harem in addition to toiling under the hot Persian sun (the region would later be called Turkey) to collect and prepare the dates. Shams was one such girl, who became pregnant at 15 and gave birth to Naz at 16. Shams died of disease two years later, forcing Naz to be taken care of by the other women of the farm, none of whom really loved her or saw her as more than a burden. As soon as she was old enough to carry a basket, Naz was forced to work in the orchards from dawn until dusk and she was frequently beaten and whipped as a young child. Later she would come to serve Kouros as her mother did, and she too became pregnant, though this time at 14. She gave birth to a beautiful baby boy whom she named Musa. Naz cared for Musa will all her heart, but it did not save him from the pox. Most of Naz died with her son and she was never really the same after that. At 16 she became pregnant again, but miscarried. She would be whipped for not working hard enough, but never for fighting. She had stopped fighting long ago. Late into her 17th year of brutal life she became pregnant yet again. She was chosen shortly thereafter.
Elements: Frost, Smoke, Blood, Iron, Dust
Public Traits: Young, Mean[/ic]
[ic=Mohandas Sharma][spoiler=Picture](http://raelifin.com/files/pics/futureman.png)[/spoiler]
Mohandas Sharma is of medium height and medium build. Not particularly skinny or muscled, but certainly not overweight. He wears business clothes and always seems calm and collected. His eyes are his most distinctive feature.
Mohandas Sharma is clean shaven and his hair is well cut. He is always polite, but never goes so far as to imply that he is inferior. He smiles often, but never fully; there's always an air of reservation, a wall, a facade. His eyes shine and gleam with a metallic texture.
Mohandas Sharma looks Japanese, or perhaps Chinese, but his name is Indian and he speaks Indonesian. He speaks clearly and precisely and enjoys the sound of his own voice. Explaining things is one of his passions, but he is naturally secretive when it comes to himself. Mohandas never forgets a name or a face. His irises are pure silver.
When he first comes to the city he is carrying a briefcase.
Mohandas' parents, both of whom were programmers, moved to Jakarta in 2053 out of fear that Japan would become involved in the violence of North America. Mohandas was born in spring of 2054 right as their fears were confirmed. Neo-Luddite extremists tracked them down, recognizing their involvement in building the GAIA system, and in Summer of 2054 Mohandas became an orphan. Luckily, the baby was adopted quickly and found a home as an only child to a pair of immigrants from India. His new father was a famous journalist who provided one of the few Indian-centric perspectives on the budding South Pacific. His adoptive mother was an amateur fashion designer and political activist. From them he learned much about appearance, politics, and society. While he had a Japanese name from his birth parents, Mohandas was given an Indian name as part of being welcomed into his new family. At 14 he had his legal identity changed to reflect what he considered to be his "true name".
Mohandas is a genius, though he makes a point of only revealing it when advantageous. He speaks four languages (Indonesian, Hindi, English, Mandarin) and has a familiarity with three others (German, Japanese, Spanish). But more than being a genius, Mohandas is freakishly motivated. While most people would be content to surf the web or take a walk, Mohandas' brain seems wired to only feel satisfied when working towards a concrete goal. At twelve he convinced his parents to let him drop out of school and study on his own, even being two grades up he felt held back by the institution. He taught himself calculus, chemistry, mechanical physics, history, programming, and rudimentary law. He read great works of literature when he needed a break from technical material and taught himself to paint when he needed a break from both. And, more than anything, he taught himself to write.
At 14 he moved to the UK to attend Oxford after he managed to convince two professors there that he was, himself, a professor of history. (Mohandas' paper on understanding societies using fine-grained agent-based models was, unfortunately, never published.) At Oxford he dual-majored in history and physics. At 16, while working on his degrees, he published his first and only book Out of the Loop: Why Artificial Intelligence Couldn't Save North America. The book became a best-seller worldwide, and the young man soon found himself to be the wealthiest 16 year old on the planet (not counting children of rich parents who themselves didn't earn anything). The book was published under a pseudonym, and Mohandas ended up selling the name to his publisher rather than continue to write. At 18 he graduated with honors and moved from Oxford to Hong Kong to start his career. Though he had, and would later have many, many female companions, none of them have ever kept his interest for more than two weeks.
Over the next few years the young man reinvested his money and made it multiply. He put his hands into everything from robotics to augmovies to illegal drugs. And while his investment decisions were solid and his people-skills were good, he was young and reckless. A bad move with the Chinese mafia eventually led to his eyes being gouged out in an alleyway. Shaken, but not deterred, Mohandas hired more bodyguards and moved to the American Union where he oversaw the growth of his "empire" across the world. In his spare time he picked up a doctorate in particle physics and became a professor at Princeton University.
And then, one day, he vanished.
Elements: Frost, Smoke, Dust, Blood, Iron
Public Traits: Attractive[/ic]
[ic=Henry McCormack][spoiler=Picture](https://si0.twimg.com/profile_images/1724354623/image.jpg)[/spoiler]
41 years old. Red hair. Beard. Irish. American. Southern. Criminal. Rowdy. Racist. Veteran. Judgemental. Loud. Loyal. Tough. None of 'dat flow'ry speech.
Carries a baseball bat.
Henry was born in 1920 to a working-class couple from St. Louis. To hear him tell it, the Irish are the best people in the world, though he's never been outside Missouri. His gran'folks were Irish, though, and that's all that matters to him. He was in the second war but he never saw combat. His only regret is that the damn Nazis didn't give the commies a better one-two if you catch his drift. He thinks the USA still should show those pinko bastards what-for; he bets their missiles wouldn't even get off the ground. After the war Henry got married to a good ol' fashioned country girl and got a job up at the steel mill. He made a good number of friends and more than a couple enemies at his work, especially when he became one of the founding members of a worker's union. (Unions are nothing like that pinko commie bullshit. Unions are a way for a real man to make a real wage. They're a nat'rl part of the capit'lst system.) Though he never was leadership material, he served as a diligent pawn for the union leaders, particularly when it came to intimidating those who were thought to be at odds with the worker's interests.
Henry has one daughter, Annabelle, whom he cares more about than anything. Two years ago she was seduced by some ugly nigger up at the university and Henry had to sort things out. Of course, the police didn't seem to understand that he was just protecting his family, and they put him in the slammer for "attempt'd murder". He was doin' his time there when he was chosen.
Elements: Blood, Iron, Frost, Smoke, Dust
Public Traits: Physically Fit, Loyal[/ic]
[ic=Athena Transcendent]Athena Transcendent is not human. Not fully, at least. While other Chosen may have an artificial arm or artificial eyes, Athena has fully embraced the idea of becoming a machine. She does not wear clothes, as we would think of them, but instead she is covered in a sheathe of reflective metal that seems half-way between a toga and a cluster of mushrooms and borders on being indecent in the way it reveals patches of human skin. Her arms and legs are fully machine and she takes no effort to hide their mechanism. Hydraulics and carbon fiber rods are exposed, giving her a distinctly alien look. Her fingers are nearly twice as long as they should be, and are jet black. Her feet are shaped like stiletto heels and she literally changes the length of her legs to match the height of who she interacts with. Her lower jaw and neck are some kind of silver plastic and are adorned with small green lights. When she talks her mouth does not move, but the lights flicker as though they were the source of the sound. Her voice reverberates with an inhuman echo that gives the impression of a chorus of voices. She is bald and her left eye has been replaced by a black lens. Her skin is ghostly white and smooth as porcelain. The one remaining "human" eye has an iridescent iris that shimmers like the wing of an exotic butterfly and her eyelashes are inhumanly long and thick.
While her mouth doesn't move to talk, it does smile. Athena is clever and insightful, but also has a kind of charm and charisma once one sees past the mechanical shell. She has a love of puns and wordplay, but isn't obnoxious about it. Her pride and confidence are infectious and she chooses her words to inspire those around her to greatness. She sees herself as a being on the way to enlightenment and is fiercely intolerant of the status quo.
Athena is not carrying anything.
Athena Transcendent was born in 2037 as Stephen Freeman, the only son to Wall-Street billionaire Michael Freeman (and his trophy wife, actress Yelena Law). Stephen grew up in luxury and had a first-rate education. As a young man the machine war tore his life apart. Both his parents were assassinated by terrorists and he was taken into protection by one of the splinter-factions of the US government. There he lived for a couple years as a kind of political prisoner, milked of his wealth under the excuse of protecting him from the outside violence. While in this bubble he became quite famous for publicly defending the GAIA project and criticizing the anti-tech backlash, becoming a lightning rod for political debate on the net. Under the pseudonym "Athena Transcendent" he further entrenched himself as a defender of transhumanism, artificial intelligence, and automation. Some of his contacts were pro-tech radicals and he quietly arranged to be abducted by them. In 2065 transhumanist extremists broke into his compound and gave him the power to travel as he would. Over the next thirty years Stephen realized that he identified more as the woman Athena than as a man, and proceeded to transition his body that way. Athena was built piece by piece and became a figurehead for conservative transhumanists (rather than progressive Neoluddites). She appeared as a voice of "enlightenment" across the world and lived primarily on a seastead, a floating city, that was often anchored near Singapore. There she married two women: Rose Lightmind and Tempest of Mars, whom she loved deeply. In 2096 she awoke in the City, alone and afraid.
Elements: Frost, Dust, Smoke, Iron, Blood
Public Traits: Cyborg (Unknown power)[/ic]
That's all! I don't have any plans for new characters. Please feel free to post here if you're interested in joining, however, as there may be options for adding people, including taking over an existing character.
You're really running with the near future term characters :o. I thought when you first designed it you were planning to cap out at 2020. It's very fine that you're looking into the future, and as a matter of interest- did you change your concept of the game midway or did you always plan to have these types of characters in from the beginning?
I changed mid-way when I got Juliet and Jens into the game. Emily White is also from the mid 21st century. With these NPCs I decided to play with the sci-fi aspects a little more.