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OOC: For the record, Construct man was not ignored. The profile was posted, edited to fix issues that were brought up, and I discussed them with Tyler. Due to a combination of flu and schoolwork, I had not been able to comment. Silver Serpent has been spoken on by all but one staff member now. Just because approval is not instantaneous does not mean he is being intentionally ignored.

OOC: He posted an updated form here in response to the comments from you and Tyler though, which didn't get any feedback despite the staff (including you, incidentally) being active and able enough to approve three other characters. Whether it was intentional or not, he was being ignored

 

IC: "Enforcers? How'd they past the security?" M'Kus asked. He didn't doubt the story-they'd been attacked enough times after all-he was just genuinely curious and a little alarmed that what he assumed to be a heavily armed platoon had managed to get past the beefed up security of the mansion

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IC [Lucas/Las Vegas]

 

"Uh-huh. Well, best of luck to you in that endeavor. Try not to lose anything in the process; I think I'll still be taking my leave. Demonic rites aren't good for my complexion."

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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OOC: The only reason I chose not to comment on the Silver Serpent was that so many staff members had already made their opinions known, at least for the original incarnation. I didn't want to create any further complication by also voicing an opinion if the matter could be easier settled without it.

 

As for SS's current iteration...

 

The ability to create clones is one thing, even perfect aesthetic clones seem acceptable, but as far as I can see, while the Biohesive is still in control of them, Silver Serpent's clones can still mimic other character's abilities? If I'm wrong, then feel free to move past this point, but if I'm correct, I don't see any reason why that should be possible. Why would a sentient liquid which has the primary ability to mimic physical substance have the ability to mimic and reproduce other superpowers? Aside from possibly super strength/durability, I simply don't see it as feasible.

 

Even if it goes based off of DNA based construction, the material being used to copy the DNA doesn't have the properties necessary to make the powers function. It can only mimic living tissue, but that isn't enough to reproduce a power.

 

Assuming, however, that I'm incorrect, and the power replication doesn't happen, then I have far less issue with SS.

~Totally like a boomerang. I always come back. Just never when you want me to.~

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IC (Lucia)

 

Lucia shrugged. "I haven't the faintest clue. What other langauges do you know?" Lucia, for her part, was quite stumped for the moment. Communication was going to be a major problem.

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC [Wallace/NYC}

 

"Other than my native language? Latin, an acquaintance with some Norman dialects, and the briefest brushing of Turkish Arabic." He frowned. "Some of these words do sound familiar, but it's no more than gibberish. Do you by any chance know of a translation spell? I've heard of them being used by Druids to intimidate attackers."

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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OOC: Accepting Ham Burger makes me want to cry tears of blood.

 

If Silver Serpent removes the clones I think she could be acceptable. As for the Doc I agree with Tyler on the Enforcer thing.

 

Guys. Stop this. a long time ago I said there shouldn't be huge OOC arguments in the thread, you are all breaking that rule, and also there is supposed to be no OOC only posts! This is the first warning for this, take it to PM.

 

IC: Beast (Road)

 

Hank continued to drive through Westchester before he pulled up at the house of the Russell’s. He was wearing a large grey suit and a pair of spectacles over his yellow eyes. He slowly walked up to the house, his large clawed feet barefooted as he pressed in the doorbell with a single claw.

Edited by Flex Capacitor
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OOC: For the record, Construct man was not ignored. The profile was posted, edited to fix issues that were brought up, and I discussed them with Tyler. Due to a combination of flu and schoolwork, I had not been able to comment. Silver Serpent has been spoken on by all but one staff member now. Just because approval is not instantaneous does not mean he is being intentionally ignored.

OOC: He posted an updated form here in response to the comments from you and Tyler though, which didn't get any feedback despite the staff (including you, incidentally) being active and able enough to approve three other characters. Whether it was intentional or not, he was being ignored.

 

OOC: Allow me to disagree with you on that. The way I view it, and the way that at least the staff I know seem to view it is that there is a difference between igoring something and honestly missing something.

 

It's not hard to miss things in the flood of posts that is this topic, after all-I would hope you know that as well. However, ignoring something implies that you are keeping yourself purposefully in ignorance of whatever it is you are ignoring; you can't unintentionally ignore something. You have to spend effort to seem as though you don't notice when something is happening or when somebody is talking to you, and Krayzikk, Tyler, Snelly, Flex, and the others haven't been doing that.

 

After that, tell me yourself: If you saw three or more new characters all pop up, after missing a post from another person, would you rather A: Keep what is current, current, or would you rather B: End up with a backlog of characters needing approval (and as such, have their players yelling at you nigh-constantly), like I've seen happen before?

Edited by The Otter

profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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OOC: I just wanted to point out, the profiles approved were all pointed out to the staff in private conversations. It really is just a case of honestly missing something, plus edits are generally harder to see then new profiles. IC: Malik "For the last time," Malik groaned in exasperation, "I have no idea what the whole Demonic rites thing was about, she's just a little, what's the word... gah you know what I mean." "Also you are not ditching me, I need all the help I can get," Malik stated plainly, placing a hand on Lucas' shoulder and dragging him along. It'll be hard enough to get her to listen to two of us, let alone just me. Plus she can be downright scary at times.Coward.

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IC [Lucas/Las Vegas]

 

Lucas followed, somewhat stunned, possibly because this kid had just grabbed a man with a knife and was dragging him along like it was nothing. "Fine, whatever you say kid." Lucas sheathed his knife, making sure it was in place on the small of his back. "Might I suggest we go outside?" Being indoors with this guy was getting on his nerves. He could sense the birds around the building, going about their simple lives, but he couldn't very well use them if he needed to inside of this place.

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC: Malik Malik, realizing that the odds of finding her now were rather slim, merely responded with an apathetic, "Eh, why not." as he let go of Lucas's shoulder, satisfied that the man wasn't ditching him. As they continued making their way down the flights of stairs, Malik made sure to pull down his fedora and close up his longcoat in anticipation of the cold. He'd rather not be freezing and miserable while searching for Gabriel. Realizing the awkward silence between the two of them, Malik did something rather uncustomary of him. He tried to make small talk, if only to ease his companion's nerves. "So...um... look, I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess. It's just that she's not exactly the kind of person I wanna face alone." Or rather I want someone to be around to make sure I don't lose it in the event Gabe decides to pull one of her usual antics. What scared of little old me? Malik however kept these thoughts to himself, making sure to show no signs of his uneasiness, he was, after all, quite an adept actor.

Edited by Toa Onarax

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OOC: Belrog? Seriously? ;_;

 

IC: Narration:

 

Knower's scan of Will's mind revealed nothing to him, however, he did notice that something HAD been changed, but he was unable to tell what had been modified.

 

!

 

Chris hadn't been expecting being pulled into a hug, but after he got over the shock of someone suddenly grabbing hold of him, he lightly wrapped his arms around her. He still not entirely used to the whole concept of hugs yet.

 

Christopher on the other hand, had left Christine's room. It was partially because he'd rejected her gift to him, and he'd hadn't been able to figure out what to get her for christmas too. He didn't really feel like feeling ashamed for that. He really needed to find a way to make it up to her.

 

IC: NPC: Mrs. Russell opened the door to the house, and was initially surprised at Beast's appearance. Quickly recovering her surprise at Beast's appearance, she quickly welcomed him in.

 

"I'm sorry Mr. McCoy... I'm just not used to seeing people like you all the time. Feel free to come in and take a seat. There's some coffee brewing if you want some..."

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IC: Quicksilver, Scorcher, Destruction (Genosha)

 

Soon the ship arrived at the shore of Genosha. Quicksilver brought the ship to a stop. "We have arrived." he said as he vanished in a blur of motion. Pietro ran around the entire country in a matter of seconds, taking in the sights. The once glorious city was in a state of destruction. Buildings were torn down and falling apart. But it was nothing they couldn't fix at time. The place seemed altogether deserted.

 

He appeared back at the ship. "It is safe, welcome to your new land."

 

IC: Mimic (X-Manor)

 

"Thanks little brother," she said to Chris. "I'm so glad I found you."

 

IC: Beast (Russell's Home, Westchester)

 

Hank refrained for saying 'You people?' or allowing himself to scowl. "Do you mean people dressed in a sophisticated manner?" he said with a light chuckle. Hank walked over to the couch and sat down on it. "Would you happen to have a glass of tea?" he asked.

Edited by Flex Capacitor
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IC: (Blake, Death)

 

"Huh, oh sorry. Oh, hi Will." Blake wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings. He was so deep in thought, arguing back and forth with Death, he had just zoned out. I need to find a telepath. I need to shut him up. No you don't. I quite like it here. No, just SHUT UP!! No, Blake, I quite like to talk, even if you don't.

Edited by thelonewander

War...war never changes.

We crawl, on our knees for you,
under, a sky no longer blue,
we sweat, all day long for you.

But we sow, seeds to see us though,
cause sometimes dreams just don't come true,
we wait, to reap what we are due.

-Rise Against, Re-Education (through Labor)

 

 

 

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IC:

 

"Unfortunately, yes. Not a whole bunch of people walk around this town dressed in suits... And on the Tea, I haven't started heating the water yet... It's been a long morning."

 

"Me too," Chris said, "It's good to know I'm not alone as I thought I was..."

 

Christopher stalked through the lower levels of the X-Mansion, looking for someone to ask them how to work the Danger Room.

 

There was someone he wanted to talk to.

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IC [Lucas/Las Vegas]

 

Stepping outside, Lucas took in a breath of the crisp cool air, then closed his eyes, immediately sitting down and crossing his legs into a meditative stance. He ignored the odd look he got from his companion, instead, choosing to focus on what wasn't exactly the easiest for him to do. He reached out, sensing the birds in the area, then picked one making its nest near a heat vent. He muttered, quietly, "assuming direct control," smirking at his joke. Then he entered the bird.

 

He wasn't quite sure how it worked, how he could do it, but the same could be said for most mutants. All he knew was that it was really bloody weird. A bird didn't see the world the same way a human did, viewing it in more drab colors, not capable of seeing as wide a spectrum of light. He felt it the bird struggle for a moment as he took over, imposing his own intelligence on its simplistic mind. Not entirely unlike a puppeteer he took flight as the bird, beginning to look around.

 

This continued for about ten minutes, him switching from bird to bird, until he found who they were looking for. Or he hoped he had anyways; these weren't hawks after all, their far sight was somewhat limited. Sighing, he opened his eyes, standing up. He instinctively reached out and on cue ten birds fluttered down to land on him, sitting neatly on his shoulders or clinging to the sides of his arms.

 

"Your friend is close." He said, and if one was paying close attention the shade of his eyes had shifted slightly. "Follow me. And... something I should add. If I lose anything because of you and your friend, I will feed you to my crows. Understood?"

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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OOC: So Doc can't be an Enforcer? Seeing as the last three characters I made as no faction sort of went into inactivity and he wouldn't really fit as a Brotherhood mutant, I'll be benching him for now. This is my new Enforcer.<br /> <br />Name: Homer Dimitriou<br />Codename: Spartan (Sometimes jokingly called Spearton) <br />Age: 30Gender: MaleFaction: EnforcersPower(S): NoneAppearance: Homer has a very youthful, boy-like face. Despite this, he still has an imposing figure. Standing at nearly 6'5", he has electrum hair, ice blue eyes, and carries 250 pounds of muscle on his body. In his armour, he looks very similar to a Greek Hoplite warrior, albeit with full body protection. The armour is also mostly white, instead of bronze in color. It is very slim build, thinner than the Iron Man suits. It is topped off with a ceramic version of the famous plumed helmet of the Hoplites.Weapons: The A-25 (if designation is inappropriate for Enforcer tech, let me know) Ground Unit Powered "Spartan" Armor. A plastic and ceramic suit of armour, it bears very much resemblance to the Spartan warriors of Ancient Greece, though influences have also been taken from the Roman Legionnaire and the Knights of the Middle Ages. The armor is equipped with nano-bot technology independent of the Crossfire series; Homer almost never uses this, since he sees it as unnatural, and also because he just plain doesn't know how to use it effectively. As for weaponry, Homer carries a circular shield adapted to repel modern weaponry (bullets and such) and a beam pike. Sometimes, Homer may exchange the beam weapon for a traditional spear. He may also use a xiphos in battle. He does carries firearms: a pistol and a small SMG, though he will only pull them out at the last second.Skills: Homer is a master strategist and tactician in battle. He is well versed in the methods of each and every military in the history of the world; he will be able to use a formation from any time period in a manner of seconds. It helps that he has eidetic memory. he has also put himself through brutal physical training, pushing his body to its absolute maximum; any further conditioning would require the Super Soldier formula. Personality: Homer is a strong believer in "rock beats laser". In this time where modern weaponry is inferior to superpowers, Homer believes that the solution is to adapt ancient battle strategies and techniques for use in the fight against foes. He is praised by his men and his officers alike for being determined, resourceful, and adaptable; he is the epitome of a great general. Out of the battlefield, he is a kind, reserved person, more like a librarian or a teacher than a warrior, eager to share a story of history here and there. And when he tells stories, man, does he tell stories. He can go on and on about how the Battle of Lexington was a success (or failure). However, when dealing with enemies, he becomes a very different man, a terror to behold on the battlefield. He will give no quarter to those who oppose him and will effectively annihilate all those whom he faces. He doesn't "hate" mutants, but he does see them as a threat, and while he is aware that there are innocents among them and that killing them would have massive consequences, he believes that there is no other option to maintain world security. Despite this, he will not go through the town mutant hunting; he will onl to agree to deploy the Spartans if a large threat is being faced, like the Brotherhood.Weakness: Homer has no powers. In addition, his pride may sometimes blind him to the advantages of ranged weaponry. He can tolerate bows (or there particle beam equivalents) but he generally views guns and modern explosives with distain.Bio: Homer Dimitriou was not supposed to be a soldier. Born to a school teacher and a librarian, Homer was raised in a peaceful, quite environment which was absolutely nothing like the battlefields he would stand on. In school, Homer became well known for his near-perfect memory and his love of history. Nicknamed the "Encyclopedia" by his friends, he quickly became the top student in the school. His elementary life was an absolute paradise. Once he entered Grade 9 though, everything went downhill. Unprepared for the "real world" as some may call it, Homer was overwhelmed by the negative influences in the school. Getting targeted by bullies for being a "nerd" and repeatedly being approached by drug dealers and gangs, Homer spent his high school years in fear. It wasn't as bad as he thought it was; instances were few and far in between. In reality, Homer had been creating this nightmare for himself. However, when things did happen, they had a large emotional impact on Homer, causing him to react negatively.<br /> Finally getting a break when entering university, Homer thought everything was going to be alright again. He was dead wrong. The school he was at got caught in a Brotherhood attack and Homer was seriously injured. Later, Homer returned home to find his house reduced to rubble and his family slaughtered, all over a box of jewellery. When the criminal was apprehended, it turned out that he was a mutant and he escaped with ease. Bent on vengeance, Homer singlehandedly tracked the killer down and brought him back. This started his career as a bounty hunter, apprehending criminals that the police could not. Eventually, he made it into the military, and from there, he was transferred into the Enforcers. There, he realized something: human war tech was getting less and less effective against the growing super population. Rather than trying to dream up some new superweapon, Homer turned to history for help, and he found his answer there: the Hoplites. Launching a petition to create a more melee centered division off the Enforcers, Homer went into intensive training, building up his body to meet the deamands of such a soldier.

Edited by Constructman
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OOC: I just learned things.

 

If any of you guys have a problem with anything that I'm doing, from now on PM me, or pull me into some sort of discussion or whatnot and we can talk things out, discuss what I'm doing wrong, and rectify it. The whole "Someone sees something that I did and goes to talk to someone else other than me on what I'm doing wrong" isn't OK anymore. If you got a problem, PM me. Because the non-existant state of communication just isn't working.

 

We're good now, right?

 

IC:

 

Sarah, in the meantime, was relaxing down in the main hall, reading "To Kill a Mockingbird". It had always been a favorite of hers, and she hadn't been able to read in a long time. Lacking a body did that to a girl sometimes.

 

OOC: Sarah, open to interact.

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IC

 

"You caught me, Farmer Boy. I'm a taco junkie."

 

They blew past row after identical row of crops. It felt like they were driving an endless road; had the lightning dropped them off in Hades or something? Whatever Angela had done with her life, she didn't feel like she deserved that. Nobody did.

 

"Speaking of which, how far until my nearest dealer? This place looks exactly like it did in The Wizard of Oz, and the whole point of the movie was that Dorothy got out of there. Lord knows why she wanted to go back..."

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IC:

 

"Hey, don't ask me. You can ask around the next time you see the Cowardly Lion or the -- SCARECROW!"

 

A tall, foreboding straw-filled man was standing in between the dividing lines of the highway, arms stretched out in an ominous embrace and waiting for the two teens to approach it. Dallas' eyes flared in alarm - an alarm that had not shown in countless battles with countless Phalanx across the remnants of his burnt and destroyed universe - as his foot promptly mashed the gas pedal. The scarecrow's creepy grin never withered, even as the Taurus grew closer, and closer, and--

 

BUMP, PSHHHHH!

 

The scarecrow burst into a mass of straw that clung to the hood and roof of the car, spare bits of hay flitting past the windshield now and then as Dallas settled back into his seat, breathing heavily and rubbing the Japanese script on his wrist absentmindedly. His heartbeat finally settled as they passed what appeared to be an actual elevated surface, and out of nervousness, he looked over his shoulder to see if the oddly-placed straw man had regenerated yet.

 

"Well, I suppose we could still always ask the Tin Man," Angela snarked; Dallas snarled.

 

"I don't wanna hear it. I just...don't wanna hear it."

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC (Lucia)

 

"I do. But I highly doubt any of us have any horse tongues handy." She shrugged. "We'd also need a ley circle..."

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC [Wallace/NYC}

 

"I see. Well, in that case, we're quite stuck. I've heard of monks who'll live in another nation and learn the language, but somehow I doubt either of us has years to spend attempting to understand this man."

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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OOC: Screw you people and your Hollywood-dictated, Wizard-of-Oz-based view of Kansas. >:C

 

IC-Sohail:

 

As various people went about their daily tasks within the Mutant Mansion, they might notice a solitary man step into the room. Dressed in what seemed to be black robes from head to toe, his face covered with a veil just as dark, and various amulets and weapons hanging from seperate belts on his person, and lastly his height of about seven and one-quarter feet made him an imposing figure.

 

Bronze eyes looked out from a bronze face, his eyes nictitating after a moment-the inner membrane left over the eyes, giving them a flat bronzen appearance, though he could still see clearly through them. And so the blank-faced, blank-eyed man looked out over what few people were in the foyer of the Mansion, his gaze-seemingly unseeing to them-striking past ones body to appraise their very soul.

 

A moment later and his nictitating membrane drew back, intense bronze-irised eyes, slightly slanted, again gazing out for all to see-though now his face seemed even blanker, even more lacking in emotion, than before.

 

"Who is in charge here?" his voice rang out, speaking slowly, and loud enough that all in the hall may here. "I have wish to speak with him."

profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC:

 

"Well, we're a hop, skip, and a balloon ride away," he replied, pulling off on what was - my God, could it be? - an actual exit and driving into a small town, "but if you think you can hold out long enough, I think I see a Taco Bell sign down the road. You bring your wallet back into this dimension?"

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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Name: Cynthia Paul.Codename: None.Age: 22Gender: FemaleFaction: NonePower(S): Something of a complexity, so let's not waste time.

  • First of all, she possesses a far more efficient digestive system as well, as a far better energy allocation method than your normal human being. This doesn't mean she can eat anything, this means that foods people normally eat, she can get a lot more bang for her buck. For instance, her body is capable of burning fat far quicker and far better than a normal person.
  • Her real power comes into play with a furtheration of this efficiency; her body never wears out. Not so much immortality mind you, no more than a car that never wears out will continue to work forever. Basically, this power applies in two areas; first, her muscles. Her muscles never tire. Ever. They can run out of fuel (thus preserving the tediously followed laws of thermodynamics), but they never tire and wear down.
  • The second aspect of her power is that she never needs to sleep. Meditation is still recommended so that her mind doesn't completely fray, but aspects of sleep such as bodily repair and mental resorting is mostly taken care of by our powers. To sum up her powers, she could run across the entirety of America, never stopping, if she had a truck filled with cheesecakes and water next to her along the way.

Appearance: A young, fit girl of German-Navajo upbringing, she has the toned body of an acrobat, not heavily muscled but rather extremely fit and made for endurance. Has foot-long dark brown hair, green eyes with glasses, and stands at 5'7".Weapons: Carries around a bottle of pepper spray and little switchblades in her shoes, the kind that would make the KGB proud.Skills: Has spent the last fifteen years of her life practicing and, thanks to her powers, dominating acrobatics. This lends her an absolutely obscene amount of agility and the ability to dodge pretty much everything short of superhuman speed.Personality: Quite aloof and very much silly, with a happy-go-lucky sort of view on things. She carries a certain naivety about her, but if someone forces themselves past that, they'll find a far more brutal and, ah, murderous, side to her.Weakness: She's an acrobat, so with that comes some good muscle tone to be able to lift her weight and do all those fancy tricks, but her punches are still pretty weak. As such, more combat aligned mutants can get the better of her pretty easily.Bio: Starting out life in a humble Wichitan home in southern Kansas, Cynthia's early years were uneventful because, really who has a happy early childhood and still has something interesting happen. She did fine in school, and would eventually find her way into acrobatics at the tender age of seven. It was around ten-ish that the first signs of her powers began to appear, with her ability to outlast all her companions in practically everything. She put many the prideful schoolboy in his place by being able to run laps around the school, and in general she began to become a showoff.

 

This changed when she was fifteen and her powers had become fully realized. She slowly stopped sleeping, eventually finding that she simply didn't need it anymore. She kept it hidden from her parents of course, and as far as mutant powers went, hers was pretty concealable. The world went on around her, and she did normal teenager stuff because to her, her powers meant she could just keep on partying hard.

 

Unfortunately, partying hard would come to haunt her. When she turned nineteen she attended a party, got drunk, and then found that unlike most people after having their tenth shot of heavy liquor, didn't pass out. Her mind at this point had been just slightly frayed due to a lack of her taking any time to sit down and just relax, so a combination of booze, general lack of brain R&R, and some poorly timed goading from a party-goer ended up with her rather severely injuring several people, very nearly puncturing a lung or two in the process. The end result of her drunken rampage was a lot of blood, a lot of medical bills, and a warrant for her arrest.

 

So she found a bike, a few chickenburgers, and skipped state. By now they've stopped looking for her, and she's mostly put the experience behind her, but every now and then she forgets to clear her head, and... well, no one's gotten hurt. Yet.

 

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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OOC: Well in my defense, I didn't see Constructman's profile. I tend to have to read a lot of posts whenever I get online. Anyway Cynthia Paul looks good, I approve it.

 

Also I don't really have time to post as all my characters so this will have to do for now

 

Oh, and Krystal isn't bandaged up, her wounds are healed from her healing factor, but she's probably still has blood stains all over her fur...and probably won't be out of bed while she's running on bare minimum in blood supply.

 

 

 

IC: Nathan - Outside Danger Room, Institute -
To be quite honest, I was still kind lightheaded from the loss of blood when I had been fooling around in the danger room, it was hard to think straight, and now I had this little girl fawning over my wings.
And now she wanted to know if she'd get wings for Christmas...more likely than not she'd already opened all her presents, all the other children surely had. I was at a bit of a loss on how to answer this without disappointing her.
"Well, I don't really know..." I finally said, not sure what else to say, it wasn't a lie either, technically I didn't know, there was always the slimmest and nearly impossible chance that she would get wings. I mean it seemed that most mutants who had wings weren’t born with them, they grew in later. I had only gotten mine just two months ago, because of some strange concoction that Dr. Novocain had shot me with. So far they'd been more trouble than they were worth.
Jesika seemed to be a little disappointed with my answer, so I decided to distract her by stretching my wings out to their full length, each wing stretched over seven feet.
IC: Krystal - Institute, Westchester -
"There were two originally....I ended one, the other escaped..." Krystal spoke out, though her voice was somewhat quiet. "Then another came...and we fought...to the death."
And that was all she cared to say for the moment.
Edited by Snelly

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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IC:

 

"Oh, don't make such a big deal outta such a little thing, Nat. It's the fate of our relationship at stake. No big deal--"

 

Brando's voice caught in his throat as he lazily flicked away the wrapping paper and peeked into the box; the SHIELD agent looked up at Natalie, whose eyes were glowing bright in anticipation, and then down into the box again. The lid was lifted off, and it looked as though Brando had been presented with the gun that killed JFK, or perhaps the rock that had Cain had used to beat Abel to death with. Snipers were weird.

 

"This is the jacket from..."

 

"From The Men," she finished warmly.

 

"This is Brando's jacket. The...the real Marlon Brando?"

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

Brando slipped the jacket on in awe, looking as though he was about to melt into a puddle on the floor and then boil over in sheer happiness. The jacket fit him perfectly, and the marksman took a second to check how he looked with his phone before lowering the device and cocking his head at Natalie.

 

"Does...does Jesus know that you swiped this from his collection?"

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

"I...you're the greatest."

 

Brando reached forward and pulled Natalie into a hug, watching James play with his blunderbuss out of the corner of his eye; the super soldier was pointing the gun at random analysts on the deck, going BOOM and faking recoil as he executed friends and colleagues mercilessly.

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: James

 

James' eyes fixed on a trio of agents, quite clearly new to the organization, crossing the deck. The greenies' backs were to him, unaware of their plight. With exaggerated slowness, James turned to Brando, a mischievous grin crossing his face. He brought a finger up to his lips, and mouthed Sssssh! I'm hunting wabbits!

 

With an almost cartoonish gait, he began to slink across the deck, blunderbuss held in a ready position, toward his ususpecting victims.

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Jesika

 

Jesika's mouth fell open into a perfect little O as Nathan stretched his wings to their full length, her arms dropping to her sides limply. Her eyes glazed over and took on a distant look as she stared blankly at the jet-black limbs. She stayed like that for quite a while, and it almost seemed as if she had frozen there. Evnentually, she shook herself out of the trance induced by overload of awe. "They're really pretty," she said finally, managing to pick her jaw up from the floor. Before Nathan had a chance to process that statement, Jesika grabbed his hand in a vice-like grip, and happily began skipping along the hall, pulling the unfortunate aerokinetic along behind her.

 

"Come on Nathan, let's go find my wings~!" she said happily, deciding that there had to be one unopened present inside the mansion with her name on it. And it would obviously have her wings inside of it.

 

Because Jesika said so.

 

And she just knew it.

 

Jesika began to hum a light tune, one that matched her bubbly personality quite well, interupted sporadically by little ideas the popped into her head. "...I bet they'll be hot pink with blue polka dots and be the prettiest wings ever but not as pretty as Nathan's because your's are the prettiest ones and..."

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BZPRPG -

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