Fantasy Wasteland Riders roster

[NeonFlow]

Sheet below, if you dead set hate your super power ask another player if they wanna swap. Apart from that no changes. Sir Fungus proudnoodle Hibiscus
The setting is fallout in nature as in earth is fucked by war and slowly rebuilding. The borderlands aspect comes from technology left by aliens and invented over time by humanity.

You awaken in a airborne laboratory which is a armoured blimp. Kidnapped by dr Finnibus's robots from somewhere in the Bad-lands of the once great nation called America.

==============================

Name:
Age: (18 - 50 we don't need no 80 year old cyborg hoverboarders)
Appearance:
(what you look like, list some shit we people can notice at a glance or glare. Add a picture to.)

Gear:
(Things you had on you before you woke up in just your underwear with metal feet and collar)

Brief backstory:
(Don't need a life story, just enough explanation as to why or how you got kidnapped in the Bad-lands. Most likely by robots.)

Speedam- You have 36 points to spread between them.

Strength 0/10 - how much you lift how hard you hit
Perception 0/10 - how good you might notice or see shit
Endurance 0/10 - how long you go for and how hard you are
Energy 0/10 - how long you can use your superpower
Dexterity 0/10 - skill with a weapon, hand to eye coordination in general
Agility 0/10 - how fast you move and run,
Moxie 0/10 - character, grit, perseverance and heart.

S.S.S choice:
(what colour injection you chose, I'll tell you what power you got so you can edit it in and add to it as the story progresses)

Optional part.

Skills:
(Incredible aim? Purple belt in judo? World class sushi chef? If you have a skill or talent list it here but don't go crazy here. Six at the most)

Flaws:
(Everyone has flaws no one is perfect. However if you list skills you need to have a flaw as well. For each two skills add one flaw. Of course you can have as many as you want to portray in your character.)

 

[NeonFlow]

Not finished, needs a lot more
==============================

Name: Eagle Bang
Age: 24
Appearance:
5ft10 light tanned Caucasian male.
Brown eyes brown hair. Usually wearing a cowboy hat and duster.

(Car sold or stolen separately)

Gear:
BangArang brand wingsticks for all your explosive needs! Five of them.
(Think boomerangs from rage but with a grenade taped to it)

44. Magnum.
(Feel lucky punk?)

Energy repeater
(think your standard repeater rifle but with lasers.)

Armoured coat, cowboy hat, aviator sunglasses, BangArang brand shirt pants boots and socks.
BB brand Stop-gap shield, to prevent you from dying to the first few bullets trust BigBlue!
(BangArang is a faction/company that produces weapons and goods. The Torgue of this universe if you follow borderlands. BB stands for BigBlue, they like BangArang were lucky enough to stumble on alien tech to make a killing off of. They specialise in shields)


Brief backstory:
Eagle was considered lucky to be born into a wealthy family with a monopoly on selling alien tech. Eagle Bang however was a rough an tumble sort of kid and grew to idolize his ancestors who explored the untamed wilds after the vaults opened.
On his seventeenth birthday Eagle left his humble home in Vault town with a supply of weapons and goods while donning his great great grandpa's hat Eagle left to explore "like people wer s'posed ta"
Eagle had strong limbs and a thrill for danger. Especially when it came to fighting in the Bad-lands. Most mutants psychos and worse smart enough to use alien tech or a long scoped rifle usually had a few dozen idiots with blades and six shooters to order around so they weren't to hard to outmanuver or avoid entirely.
With BangArang tech and a knack for adventure Eagle got far and escaped many close calls. While hunting a bounty in the badlands Eagle was caught in a ambush... Robots fought against raiders in a one sided battle, as Eagle ran to escape he to was shot a number of times before being tasered tied up and escorted to a blimp in the sky with many others.

Speedam-
Strength 5/10 - how much you lift how hard you hit
Perception 5/10 - how good you might notice or see shit
Endurance 5/10 - how long you go for and how hard you are
Energy 5/10 - how long you can use your superpower
Dexterity 6/10 - skill with a weapon, hand to eye coordination in general
Agility 5/10 - how fast you move and run,
Moxie 5/10 - character, grit, perseverance and heart.

S.S.S choice:
Eagle didn't choose, the man fainted as he noticed his feet had been replaced with metal tootsies. Purple was injected into Eagle. Giving him a resistance to most poisons, venoms and toxins. Finnibus also grafted some alien biology into Eagles body. Venom sacks and tendrils in his chest.

Pros, can spit poison, can shoot poisonous tendrils from his back and stomach.
Resistance to most animal venoms and toxins.

Cons,
acid reflux, always.
Quick to spew,
Taste buds shot,
Belly button opens up for a venomous tendril to stab things, which hurts and is gross.
Two spots underneath the shoulderblades do the same thing, which hurts and is gross.
Can never have kids again, not when you shoot purple.

Optional part.

Skills:
Good aim- he's got the old Bang blood in him that's for sure, took to throwing an shooting real well.

Brawler- Eagle got into many disputes before he left Vault town, even more when he left. After enough fights you find yourself getting better at it.

Wingstick knowledge- wingsticks being his family's livelihood and his favorite weapon. Eagle was always enthusiastic to mess about with a wingstick. He can assemble any and modify them somewhat if the equipment is available.

Flaws:
Simple- Eagle is a straight shooter, "I don't make the guns I just shoot em good"
Able to read, write and count of course... but Eagle is the type to think with his heart and genitalia rather than his head.

Lush- nothing more cowboy then drinking, Eagle fancies himself a Cowboy Bounty Hunter. The hat, the gun the addictions. All part of the charm.

Burning Hatred- Eagle will hold grudges forever.

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Carmine "Sketch" Zacarias
"I used to be normal. NORMAL, you dig? What the fuck."

Personal Details

Name
Immanuel Carmine Zacarias Stark

Age
Twenty-Three

Appearance
Carmine is not one to remove his gas masks, torn layers of clothing or makeshift armor usually fashioned out of bent stop signs, but if he were to do so you'd catch a glimpse of his exotic appearance. From top to toe covered in all manners of scar tissue, left over needlework that really should be taken care of, a bright yellow eye as a result of a tattoo that left him nearly completely blind in that eye, wild hair that seem to imply use of rusty knives and a chronic aversion to mirrors, and a lithe albeit tall build. Not that Carmine is afraid to show a little skin or anything, but with his hectic life he seldom has a personal choice in the matter nor is it a good idea to go without armor.

Skills
Adrenaline Junkie - The past three years of Carmine's life have been chaotic. Adrenaline rushes are less a boost to him, more a lifestyle. He's always ready to take action.
All-around Warrior - Ignoring the mental consequences of such a life, more-or-less-constant combat tends to make a person pretty good at, well, combat.
Rudimentary Mechanic - Repairing vehicles on the go and keeping them running has been important, to say the least. Carmine has some expertise with vehicles, though it mostly boils down to a lot of luck with his percussive maintenance.

Flaws
Eye Tattoo - Ouch, ew, what the fuck? Why would you get that? And now your eye is fucked up. Carmine's left eye still struggles with shapes and colors.
Fearless? - Carmine's nervous system gave up on being nervous eventually. He no longer knows when to back down, is bad at assessing situations, and is also kind of awful at paying attention to potential dangers. This has also lead to him eating poisoned or bad food, drinking strange liquids and generally setting himself up for a bad time.
Worn - Like a ball of yarn heartlessly left in a lion's den, Carmine's willpower is thread-bare. He could be convinced to do pretty much anything at this point. Because, sure, fuck it, why not?

Gear
Carmine carries a number of weapon underneath his cloak, all strapped in order of importance across his chest and waist with leather straps and repurposed belts.
Snub-nosed .357 Revolver - For when you want to flail your arms around indoors.
MP5 SMG - For every other scenario. Comes with two handy extra magazines.
50. Revolver w/ Muzzle Brake - For when your opponent happens to be an engine block.
Two Multi-Purpose Daggers - For when you're out of bullets. Or when you need a hammer. Or a wrench. Or a screwdriver. Amazing what you can create by cannibalizing military daggers and combining them with everything you can get your hands on.
Ammo Pouches
Makeshift Road Sign Plating
A Sick Poncho
Three Extra Gas Masks

History

Backstory
Immanuel Carmine Zacarias Stark, son of a water merchant, was never once supposed to be anything more than the scion of his father's unremarkable trade. They lived in a uneventful and stable area where the ground had once been landscaped back into rich soil by a nearby vault and then abandoned for better prospects. Wanderers paid to drink from their taps and eat their vegetables, they planned the logistics of large shipments and had things figured out. All the way up until his twentieth year on this earth Carmine had never seen more than a mile outside of his homestead, and with the stories he'd heard from the armed wanderers that came through he was quite happy this was the case. That kind of dog eat dog world didn't appeal to him much.

Then an unfortunate chain of events that never seemed to stop sparked. One late evening a mysterious stranger arrived, ate and drank as normal, but when he was asked to pay he settled for a bullet in Carmine's father's head. The silence was complete until, monstrous engines screeched on the horizon. It seemed the bullet firing had unfortunately pulled the attention of a group of raiders somewhere nearby. Then everything happened so fast. Carmine got his father's revolver from behind the cabinet, bullets seemed to rain from everywhere. The mysterious stranger was bleeding to death in the corner, helplessly trying to scoop his innards back in with his remaining arm. A huge, hulking mutant man stood at the center of the room as fire raged along the walls. Something hard smashed down on Carmine's head.

Everything after that is foggy for a couple of years. He remembers waking up to pain and blood in his eye, having had his eye tattooed to mark him as a slave. He remembers underground arena fights and carrying fuel barrels across a mountain ridge in the scorching sun. He remembers thirst, violent dagger duels and eating whatever you could get your hands on. He remembers being unshackled and having a rifle thrust into his hands and firing at the oppressor that locked him and his brothers down here and forced them to work until they died of starvation and thirst. He remembers escaping in a fiery explosion chained by his own volition to the undercarriage of a vehicle that most resembled a clump of sharpened metal scraps with wheels.

Then he must've passed out, because the next thing he remembers is the horrified screams of his friends and a bright light shining down from the skies. After that? Sleek white halls, a strange painful vibration just to the right above his navel. Waking up in a field with new, cleaner scars? Finding a nearby settlement, immediately getting into trouble with the local police, getting sentenced to execution by being thrown off a cliff, getting scraped off the pavement by a group of raiders to become their mechanic, and on and on and on. Life never stopped coming at him.

Recently, after clearing out a nuclear missile bunker filled with mutant creatures and losing his entire group of raiders, he passed out once more from exhaustion. This time, he didn't wake up in the wasteland.

SPEEDAM

S.S.S choice
The multi swirl injection is a out of body experience, literally forcing your mind out of its body in some form of mental projection. Like your soul can walk around, look hear smell... You are pulled back into your body as Dr Finnibus slaps your face thinking you have died.

The pros.
You can astral project your conscious to scout ahead, fuck with robots, animals, haunt humans.
Move through walls (If they are thin enough)
While you have limited interactions with the real world nothing can physically hurt your projection.

The cons.
Your body falls lifeless as you do this. Even breathing stops so it probably isn't a good idea to stay ghost for to long.
When your lifeless body is moved or touched your soul will jump back almost instantly.

Strength 5/10 - how much you lift how hard you hit
Perception 2/10 - how good you might notice or see shit
Endurance 8/10 - how long you go for and how hard you are
Energy 4/10 - how long you can use your superpower
Dexterity 8/10 - skill with a weapon, hand to eye coordination in general
Agility 6/10 - how fast you move and run,
Moxie 3/10 - character, grit, perseverance and heart.

 

[Femboy]

Full Name: Mosa Plesia Pierce

Brief Backstory: Mosa was just engaged before her life went pretty downhill in the badlands. She watched some raiders destroy her little camp and her fiance was killed in front of her, then a while past. She's not affected by it, but she sure is if its brought up. She tried to return to the old camp to see if she could scavenge any remembrances, got distracted and was caught by robots.

S.S.S Choice: Blue

Choosing the Blue vial was just 'random choice' and because she liked the colour blue, but it was probably more influenced by the fact that blue was the same colour of the gems on her ring. After drinking it, she could feel herself tense up slightly but not much else, shortly after noticing the blue tinted complexion in her skin tone.

Her gained power is to be able to increase her strength and durability, and her overall endurance. However, she becomes... more 'blue' when she is doing so.

Skills: Amazing cooking, clothing design, advanced craftsmanship, acting and 'roleplaying'

Flaws: Fiance and Relationship PTSD, her SPEEDAM allocation is self-explanatory, really does not like intense heat or cold, does not actually know how to swim.

Random Knowledge and Details
▪ She's Russian and has a slight russian accent. It's most clearly noticeable when she's annoyed.
▪ She's ticklish, but only her armpits and neck.
▪ She's kind of eh when it comes to animals, she's not the biggest fan of them. Except cats. She likes cats.
▪ Bugs and insects are a nono, as well as anything slimy or wet.
▪ A woman needs to be presentable, even in such apocalyptic times, and she WILL stay presentable.
▪She was engaged to a man who is now dead, and she's had a child before with the same man, who's either dead or kidnapped and adopted by bandits.

Gear
▪ A black coat with fur around the neck and wrists, expensive, and she treasures it
▪ Her engagement ring, silver with sapphire gems on it
▪ An SMG with black and blue custom painted camo (she painted it)
▪ Emergency stress gummy bears and gummy worms (always hidden in her bra for emergencies, the important things)

 

[Sir Fungus]

Full Name: Ryan Christopher McNutt
“I could really go for some ramen...”

Age: 19

Strength: 4 -1
Perception: 5
Endurance: 6
Energy: 4
Dexterity: 4
Agility: 4
Moxie: 9 -1

Backstory:
Ryan is a freelancing mercenary, going from place to place accepting nearly any job required to get by in the wastes. Whenever jobs require dealing with kids, whether it‘s killing them or selling them, he refuses with his life. Trained in the art of a sniper rifle by his father, he handles assassination missions pretty well until he was captured by mysterious robots.

S.S.S. Choice: Green

Skills:
Great in terms of survival (Building campfires, hunting, etc.), skilled with rifle weaponry, Thinking while moving. Due to the serum, He can sweat acid, is immune to radiation and acid, and he can eat raw meat like an animal.

Flaws:
Not physically strong. With the serum in his blood, he glows green, so stealth is a lot more difficult. His taste buds are ruined due to the serum. “That” kind of contact requires extra protection, but what would he need that for? He’s only a kid...mostly.

Gear:
Camo coat, Red cloth mask, .380 Sniper Rifle, Backpack, and a red shoulder cape. He acquired a robotic arm to weaponize his acidic sweat after he was kidnapped.

Birthday: December 25th (He celebrates Christmas, not his birthday.)

 

[proudnoodle]

Name: Gizmo
Age: Gizmo is estimated to be in her early to mid twenties. Though her wee stature may have you thinking otherwise, the years of irradiated air and harsh sun are beginning to show on her skin.
Appearance **PLACEHOLDER UNTIL I FIND A BETTER REF but this is the vibe she gives.

Being the five foot one chainsmoking pipsqueak that she is, it's a wonder Gizmo has survived this long in the Bad-lands. The secret is her smarts (she says, at least). Gizmo has a nonchalent, no-bullshit demeanour that would not be expected from someone with a pink MulletHawk and every colour of the rainbow in their wardobe. Her punk-ish style is only one step above that of the psychos and mutants of the land; studs, spikes and tats combined with barely-there flambuoyant 80's gym fashion. You think the colour would make her a walking target but there's an air so scathing, something so callous about the woman that keeps the worst of the pests off her back.

If you come closer you'll notice her hardened complexion. Gizmo has a face that could have been very pretty in another world. Oval shape with sky blue eyes now turned cold and shrew. Eyes often smudged with day old eyeliner or shadowed by dark rings. She has a freckled button nose with a red tint and prominent scar above her lip. Another runs from her bushy arched brow to her cheek. Her skin, often a pinkish tone from what could be best described as a permanent sunburn, is never seen without a plaster or bruise.

Despite all the colour and quirks, Gizmo's most prominent feature is her persona. She speaks with a Boston accent and a raspy voice, incapable of making it through one sentence without a swear. She can be fast-spoken and vague in her language as she's accustomed to working alone and just expects the rest of the world to keep up.

Gear:
- An alien tech blunderbuster, almost modified beyond recognition with her own handiwork
- A knapsack containing the wasteland Summer 2XXX fashion essentials: aviator goggles, a baseball cap, balaclava and a facewrap.
- Also contained are basic first aid items; banadages, gauze, tweezers, a rudimentary stitch kit
- A 9mm pistol, a bowie knife, a homemade tazer. The woman is a walking arsenal
- A pouch of funky buttons. Adorable, right? Most were pried from the cold bodies of her adversaries
- Assorted bits of Useful Scrap she has found fossicking through abandoned homes of the old world and ransacked bunkers
- Smokes, a lighter. These are her currency and life essence.

Brief backstory:
Gizmo first appeared on record as an orphan girl who was brought into the city by a rescue crew after her parents, supposedly farmers, were slaughtered when their agricultural outpost was ransacked by raiders. Little did they know this pitiful voiceless little Orphan wasn't six years of age and suffering selective mutism as a result of trauma; she was a child of the Raiders, eleven years of age, left behind when her people fled from the rescue team. And she was absolutely shitting herself. However, she enjoyed the little luxuries of civility (having the top bunk? Awesome. Food on demand, a soft bath mat when you step out the shower, having showers-) so she didn't immediately flee.

Despite the culture shock, young Gizmo was a survivalist and knew she had to keep the facade up. She was adopted by an upper class couple with no other children, a civil engineer and an administrator of the district government. They were patient, attentive and totally marveled by the advanced intelligence of a farm girl so young. Wankers, Gizmo thought. She had 'em fooled. Thankfully, their demanding careers meant she'd see more of the nannies and tutors than her own parents. It was only so long before they'd find out about her anarchic behavior in school. She'd been known to tear apart her toys just to rebuild them, steal and roam parts of the school unintended for children but as her ability to speak made a miraculous return there was a whole new set of issues. Children began to pen some of the most vivid expletives when learning to write, some would return home crying after school toys had gone rogue. There was more than one occasion that students had bawled to their teacher that the strange new girl had threatened to gut them if they did not share their sandwich (and recover the meal from their innards, if further details are needed.)

These behavioral problems lead Gizmo's adoptive family to have her assessed by various medical experts. The conclusion was that she had ADHD and her endearing bouts of violence and antisocial behavior were typical of early trauma. It was bullshit, mostly. She was assigned various medications which her parents and carers monitored closely, going as far as crushing it up and putting it in her food when she refused. She felt awful, subdued, and it wasn't long before these new constraints had her itching to break free. Barely fifteen, she escaped the city with nothing other than the clothes on her back. Her sole intention was to get as far away as possible, brisking through a new settlement each week. She had no desire to find her old family but slotted easily into their barbaric lifestyle when it paid right.

Having seen both ends of society in the Wasteland she was determined to belong to neither. Gizmo matured into a blunt and industrious mercenary, hard to find but often sought for those meticulous jobs kept off the books. She did it for the thrills rather than the money, so when a high-paying client contacted her to retrieve a stolen she thought little of it. Little did she know she'd walked right into the airborne abode of Dr Finnibus, and out went the lights.

Speedam
Strength 2/10 - how much you lift how hard you hit
Perception 5/10 - how good you might notice or see shit
Endurance 5/10 - how long you go for and how hard you are -2 FROM PINK VIAL
Energy 7/10 - how long you can use your superpower
Dexterity 5/10 - skill with a weapon, hand to eye coordination in general
Agility 7/10 - how fast you move and run, +3 FROM PINK VIAL
Moxie 6/10 - character, grit, perseverance and heart.

S.S.S choice
When asked to choose, Gizmo spat at Finnibus, so he selected the colour that seemed best suited; the punchy, red-hot pink. As she watched the neon fluid seep through the drip in her arm her vision began to blur and tunnel. Unbeknownst to Gizmo she was writhing around like a mutated squirrel on crank. She now has the ability to move at speeds that aren't humanly possible, though that doesn't make her any less of one... she still must replenish her muscles, stamina and eat an ungodly level of carbs to sustain her hyperactive energy levels.

Skills:
- GOOD WITH HER HANDS...?: Gizmo, true to her name, is able to form a gadget or weapon out of just about anything. Her knapsack only contains a handful of weapons as she's confident she can craft a bomb, a shiv or a firearm from most scrap. Not that it's needed, most of the time; you can't walk ten meters without tripping over a gun in the Bad-lands. Her engineering skills also make her handy for picking locks, repairing broken equipment and hacking limited machines.
NOT SHORT, FUN SIZE: Perfect size to hide in bins during important conversations or send through the crawl space when the team needs an emergency escape
- IRON BELLY: This woman can stomach just about anything, having lived off of tinned food, local homebrew beers and whatever she can scavenge in the Wasteland majority of her life. Handy trait for someone who needs to eat her body weight in food if she wants to use her power effectively, but Gizmo relishes watching her squadron coil at some of the horrors she'll eat.

Flaws:
- She cannot swim
- Extremely accident prone and graceless
- Heavy smoking has ruined her lungs, hence the low endurance despite her hardy and practical nature
- She's impatient and irritable, therefore awful at following orders. Despite her stubborn grit she lives by a strict 'my way or the highway' policy that has her packing her satchel and leaving if she doesn't like her conditions.

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Name: Tuckson Decovo
"Tuckson, Decovo, Doc, name's not important. Only thing that's important is I'm the guy digging a chunk of lead out of what's left of your kidneys"
Age: 38
Appearance:


Coming in at a rather short 5'6" Tuckson wears a warm expression behind his half-frame glasses. He keeps his black hair swept to the side, something that is a result of his nervous habit of sweeping his hair, and a pair of short mutton chops marks his face alongside a few nicks and scratches from his years of travel. He dresses practically for his work, a pair of comfortable brown pants with a pair of kneepads, a dirty grey shirt partially covered by a sun bleached medical coat with red a cross emblazoned on the back. Multiple small pouches are secured to his person at his waist and chest, as well as a red leather bag also with a red cross on it. A pair of black boots and medical gloves complete the look, as well as the classic big iron on the hip.

Gear:
-.357 magnum revolver
- 60 .357 magnum rounds
- various medical instruments
- Medical supplies such as sterile gloves, masks and disinfectants
- 3 days worth of clean food and water
- a change of clothes and spare pair of glasses
- thick black journal containing instructions for various medical procedures.
- 3 packs of salvaged cigarettes, don't ask where he salvaged them from
- 1 steel lighter, a comically large pair of cartoon lungs etched into the side

Brief backstory:
Tuckson always liked helping people, ever since he was a kid helping his dad with small tasks. His parents ran a modest clinic in a settlement an hour or two from one of the larger settlements based out of a junkyard. They would often travel between the two settlements as well as some smaller settlements when requested, so Tuckson was left alone with a very nice older woman who lived above the clinic. As he grew up he began to learn from his parents, intent to become just like them and help people. Fast forward to when he turned twenty six and he decided to spread his expertise to the other inhabitants of the wasteland.

He spent the next twelve years wandering the wastes, setting up shop in different settlements before moving on to the next. Along the way he picked his bad habit of smoking, his knowledge of herbs as well as his trusty sidearm. It was on the faithful day when he was traveling to another settlement when he heard what sounded like someone crying out in pain. He followed the voice until he came to a small collapsed shack hidden behind a large boulder. When he rounded the corner he had exactly one second to process the scene before something struck him on the back of the head and he blacked out. When he awoke it was to find a psychotic man calling himself a doctor had replaced his legs with robotics and was treating him like a test rat.

Speedam- You have 36 points to spread between them.

Strength 3/10 - how much you lift how hard you hit
Perception 7/10 - how good you might notice or see shit
Endurance 4/10 - how long you go for and how hard you are
Energy 5/10 - how long you can use your superpower
Dexterity 7/10 - skill with a weapon, hand to eye coordination in general
Agility 4/10 - how fast you move and run,
Moxie 6/10 - character, grit, perseverance and heart.

S.S.S choice:
Black, all of his medical knowledge pointed to it to be the one most likely to kill him outright. Unfortunately for him the serum did not in fact kill him but instead ran through his veins like lava. Slowly his body began to disappear before his very eyes and in a few seconds the only signs that someone was restrained on the table were the grunts of pain as his body desperately tried to expel the foreign substance. Like that of a chameleon, Tuckson's body had been altered to allow him to blend into his surroundings and become transparent. Of course since strange alien chemicals and human biology don't mix he experienced discomfort, headaches and nausea when he finally was able to return to normal. God he needed a smoke

Optional part.

Skills:
- Skilled in medicine, from basic treatment to invasive surgery
- Herbalist, can identify useful herbs and combine some to create medical concoctions
- It's just a liver, years of routing around in other people have given him a tolerance for the gory
- Cool head, when preforming an operation a calm mind is more important than the right equipment. Can keep his cool under stressful situations

Flaws:
- Dislikes killing, will attempt to disable or non-fatally wound enemies instead of killing
- Suffers from addiction to cigarettes, too long without one and he starts shaking like an epileptic
- Gullible, easy to fool when he thinks someone needs medical help.

 

[Hibiscus]

Name: Koda Flowers (#FAC0DD)
Age: 32
Appearance:

Koda stands relatively tall at 6’5” (1.96~ m) and around 184lbs (83.4~ kg) has some density to the height. A thick form that would be imposing, the rest of him is quite contrary. Both arms are tattooed with wreathes of various flowers and the green eyes do much to disarm any intimidating act he puts on. Along his face running down his neck and left shoulder is skin long healed from both burns and cuts. Due to the serum Koda has lost all his hair and will soon be investing in a nice hat!

Gear:

1. A set of brass knuckles, engraved sloppily with H.F. on one and H.H. on the other. Leather gloves with well worn spots where the knuckles would sit usually accompany them.
2. Small satchel with odds and ends. A book, a few pieces of vegetation, canteen, lighter, extra shirt, and a survival knife.
3. Strapped to his leg usually covered by his boot was a knife, but given the operation he’s not sure where that could be.
4. A 9mm pistol with a holster was also with him, though no ammo accompanied it beyond the ones already loaded.

Brief backstory:

Raised by slavers and raiders, Koda earned his freedom through the Pits. An incentive to keep the slaves hopeful and give them entertainment, the Pits allowed anyone to fight their way to freedom. It was with hands or melee only, increasingly difficult with each fight, and oftentimes unfair. You spent a month in the Pit living off of the leftovers of the camp and irradiated water that flowed down, it was war even before you entered the ring. Scars, cuts, and burns are constant reminders of his time there, even without them he’d never forget.

After getting out Koda was still somewhat in service to the raiders, as they weren’t keen on letting the talented fighters leave to join competition or come back for revenge. Koda worked as a guard at the gate first, began moving further into the encampment, and eventually moved to guarding their most important building; The Peak. It was a bar and the only place that had food above edible, so it required the best guards. Now Koda practically runs it, although it’s not under him since everything is owned by the Chief, he’s very trusted and somewhat important to their organization

Speedam- You have 36 points to spread between them.

Strength 8/10 - how much you lift how hard you hit.
Perception 3/10 - how good you might notice or see shit
Endurance 7/10 - how long you go for and how hard you are
Energy 3/10 - how long you can use your superpower
Dexterity 7/10 - skill with a weapon, hand to eye coordination in general
Agility 3/10 - how fast you move and run,
Moxie 5/10 - character, grit, perseverance and heart.

A trained physicality has made Koda strong enough to hold his own as well as push forward past pain and exhaustion, should it come to it. The time within the pits made him a dangerous individual should he get close, capable with his weapons and his own brawling. Determination and hope got him through the pits, not to mention working at The Peak helped him become more personable after getting out.

However, Koda’s size comes with downsides. Getting up to speed takes more time and he’s not as fast as he used to be. Time takes a toll on your body and Koda’s body has taken enough physical punishment to count for a lifetime. While he’s suffered from fist, knives, fire, and the occasional gunshot, Koda will go on record as saying radiation is more terrifying than them all combined. Koda’s already limited eyesight has been affected mostly by the irradiated wastes, the bright green color a visible side effect of a larger issue for him.

S.S.S choice:

When offered a vial at the end of the procedure, Koda took the opportunity to spit at the doctor. The bloody gob landed harmlessly on his cheek and the Doctor only gave the smallest inclination of notice. The act of defiance was barely noticed, but it did decide Koda's color choice. A red serum being pumped into his body and a new burning pain to join with the soreness from the recent procedure.

The red serum gave Koda the ability to breathe fire and an immunity to it as well. Koda's body can create their own fire, but that also means his body temperature is raised. Too much time in the hot wasteland sun was already a threat for most, but Koda is susceptible to heat stroke. It also means that once warm it's harder to cool off and he'll need more time to rest after getting overheated. Beyond that the flames also burned away all his hair and remain the only part of him that can't survive the fire.

Skills:

1. Hand to hand combat is Koda’s bread and butter, willing to throw down with anyone that comes close. Beast, raider, mutant, or robot can catch his hands at the drop of a hat.
2. While he’s more likely to use his hands, Koda is just as proficient with most melee weapons as his own fist. Preferring blunt weaponry, he’s not above and will often use whatever is nearby in a fight.
3. Before he fought his way out, Koda was usually used as a pack rat and runner. Now with larger stature and more stamina he’s even better at it, great for carrying and traveling lost distances.
4. Now his occupation pushes him to be a people person, understanding and friendly to some of the sickest in the wastes. He can talk with most, he’s fairly insightful, and can haggle with the best of them. Koda is good for a conversation, negotiation, or just venting to.
5. While it’s likely he’s not going back anytime soon, he used to be a fairly good bartender and cook before he got snatched. Entertainment isn’t necessarily the skills people use to survive out there, but Koda’s a good host if he gets the chance. Should someone want a cocktail from limited supplies or to eat something beyond beans in a can over the fire, he’s your guy.

Flaws:

1. Poor eyesight. Koda had bad sight before being taken by the slaves, but that only compounded it. He thought it was the fights that worsened it, The Pits slowly taking his vision with each victory. However the radiation was heavier there and it showed itself when his eyes were green instead of the usual brown. Koda can only see things clearly a few feet from him, otherwise things get fuzzy and unclear farther away.
2. Koda is a horrible shot and would rather stay away from guns altogether. From his bad eyesight and lack of practice, Koda is fairly useless at range.
3. Although he’s not an alcoholic, Koda does appreciate the amenities he worked for and is likely to falter for them. Good food and drink, not to mention good company, will likely be too good to pass up for him.

 

[RottenVale]

Tripwire "Trip" Canary
27, Yellow ​

Basic Appearance

“In this house, we always use protection.”

Trip wears a heavy fabric cowl and cloak at almost all times. This is (and looks) padded, enough that her figure is barely visible, but still it is obvious that she is very slight. Her long blonde hair is tied back into the hood. She wears knee and elbow guards, not unlike those used in roller-derbies, and thick black goggles hang around her neck. When her cloak is pulled to the side, her bionic arm is obvious - faintly glowing at its seams and softly clicking with every movement.

You don’t think it would be wise to ask how she lost her arm.

Skills & Power

Communication: Working as a runner and scout within her group, she is excellent at keeping a group (in or out of combat) cohesive. Whether through hand signals, long-distance audio communication, or simply running from position to position - in her mind, everyone should know the status quo, always.

Leadership: Trip always seems to know what to say to keep an (even temporary) peace. She often steps up in conflict situations to try to cool the waters.

Power
With the yellow vial being injected into Tripwire, She became more of a live wire...
The yellow vial turned her into a living battery.
Like a solar panel, direct sunlight on skin charges you and at the cost of energy trip can imbue electricity from her finger tips.

The pros...
Direct sunlight makes you feel stronger, that's just power welling up nothing more.
You can arc lightning a few meters ahead of you
You can Power anything that needs electricity via poking
Resistance to electric shock
Choose to light up like a light, never be lost again

The cons...
As a battery you can die, to use all your electricity will cause trip to fall over exhausted and be unable to move.
While your resistant to electricity you will still feel pain from weapons that utilise it.
You cannot charge yourself from external sources of power, Only sunlight works.
Using electricity with enough force to restrain/hurt/kill means Tripwire must remain stationary as electricity coursing through your body and our your fingertips causes one to "lock up" somewhat.

Flaws

Cowardly: Trip is not likely to stick around in what she views as a losing situation. Although she couldn’t be called.. Disloyal, exactly, she is self-preserving to a fault. She is more likely to act to reduce casualties than to knock down a threat she feels is unrealistic.

History & Gear

Trip was born and raised in a group of free-living mercenaries who worked as travelling monster hunters for small settlements. She became known for two things - her loud, whooping whistle and her habit of tripping opponents or otherwise ‘playing dirty’ in fistfights. As she became a young adult, she broke out into a group with four of her peers, and began to do much of the same.

After an unfortunate series of violent events ultimately culminating in Trip’s abandonment of her fellows, she found herself alone, walking through a marshy plateau and absolutely surrounded by robots.

She’d sworn, of course, but hadn’t put up much of a fight. There just wasn’t a point to resistance when she was so clearly outnumbered. It was much easier to stage an escape from inside (hopefully uninjured) than it was to force somebody to beat you into the ground and end up in the exact same place. She’d cursed her crewmates, for not being there, but was that really their fault?

When she was asked what colour of serum she wanted, she simply smiled, something lurking behind her eyes. “Yellow, of course,” she replied, “What else for a canary?”


Gear
A pair of thick bulletproof glasses.
Rudimentary body armour.
An assault rifle crudely engraved with SPENCER’s name.
A small, portable pistol.
A bionic arm and small maintenance kit.
An oversized pack of tampons.
Three water bottles of assorted sizes.
Four cans of mystery meat.
One can of vegetables.

​

 

[NeonFlow]

RottenVale Hibiscus Shotgunpenguin proudnoodle Sir Fungus Femboy Prizzy Kriyze

Pretty sure everyone's got the info down and stats in check so I'm ready to start the rp if y'all are. If you wanna edit stats an whatnot now's the time but if your ready give this post a like or voice your questions/concerns in the OOC. There's no backlash or anything I want erryone to be on the same page before I tag people for posts and expect them to adhere to whatever fiction I'm writing aha

 

[yourlocal-eboyy]

Name: Stark “Noir” Aguillard
Age: 44
Appearance: Noir, for some odd reason, is completely grayscale. Assume it has something to do with stupid shit he did as a teen and now he’s edgy for life. He has long black hair (usually tied back), pale skin, and is unusually tall for the typical French person, standing at 7’1. His eyes are a pale, reflective blue. Noir typically wears a black, cloth trench-coat that reaches down to his knees. It’s usually open, and he never really tightens the belt. He wears a dress shirt under that, pairing it with a white tie with a black zig-zag pattern on it. He wears dark grey slacks and black dress shoes. Accessory-wise, he wears rounded sunglasses and black fingerless gloves. Despite the hefty amount of black he wears, Noir is a very extroversive guy who isn’t afraid to crack a joke at a funeral.

Gear:
Noir usually carries around a series of knives that he hides in an interior pocket of his coat. His shoes, believe it or not, are also equipped with blades that pop out when he taps the end of his shoe in a specific pattern.

Brief backstory:
Noir was just a semi-average guy. He would accompany his friend on detective work, not actually helping any. He would take the credit for others’ work and would generally be considered a dick. He typically travelled alone, and none would pay much mind to him. Believe it or not, he didn’t stand out much. On a case he was assigned alone, he found himself surrounded by unfamiliar machines. Before he could react, he was knocked out, only to reawaken in an unfamiliar place, cursing out his surroundings.

Speedam-

Strength 7/10
Perception 2/10
Endurance 8/10
Energy 5/10
Dexterity 5/10
Agility 5/10
Moxie 4/10

S.S.S choice:
Hot pink, super speed.

Skills:
Noir is great at kicking, but isn’t so good with his hands. He’s known to fumble.
He’s a great shot when he takes his time, but he’s only good with smaller hand-held like pistols. He isn’t good at fast-paced fire combat.
He’s good at thinking strategically, knowing what he has to do in almost any scenario to achieve a set goal.
He’s a great liar. Noir can easily get off with some fibs, this is because his tone has little to no change when he speaks.


Flaws:
Independent , Noir pretty much refuses to work with others, even when he needs to, or when others need him.
Pride , He’s very unlikely to associate with others he deems as ‘uncool’ or ‘lame’. He takes himself with very high regard, and finds it weak to ask for help, even if it’s in a dire situation.
Arrogance , He believes that he’s the best, the strongest, the coolest out there. He often picks fights in which he has no winning chance.
Visibility , Noir’s height is an overall downfall when it comes to stealth and evasion. He would be better in scenarios in dark places, but finds it hard to hide in places with colour.
Noise , Noir is somewhat tone-deaf, not taking into account how loud he really is. He often gives away his position by talking.


if there’s anything I need to change let me know