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 Post subject: Introduction Thread
PostPosted: 12 Sep 2009, 12:07 
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This is the new introduction thread, required since many characters are being revamped and some new ones are being added. Please wait for characters to be approved by me before posting them here. Also please follow the set profile form I have used here, and note that while you do not have to post a long and extensive history of your character, only I can get away with the 'history largely unknown' bit. While the older Weavers rarely discuss their pasts, I expect you to still fill me in before posting.

Captain Wolf:
Name: Wolf (?) No last name or other name given.
Age: Rather old, but exact age uncertain. Appears to be in her mid-twenties.
Appearance: Tall, has the usual thin form and lean muscle one would expect of the Weavers given how much exercise they get. Pale skin with a fair few scars, mostly on the arms but also one down the side of the face. Diamond-shaped blue-almost purple- eyes, spiky hair about shoulder length, sometimes tied back into a very short tail.
Wears a black trenchcoat and practical clothes. Boots or sneakers, rarely pure blacks but often dim or colorless clothes with lots of pockets.
Abilities: Wolf can manipulate air and gravity in a short area around her. This allows her to travel so fast she blurs out-but without destroying her clothes or the stuff she's carrying-and also fly or walk up the side of buildings, etc. This area extends to about a yard and a half around her at all times.
History: Wolf had a nasty crossover involving a stalker demon from another dimension-one of the more magical ones-that got into the college she was in and attacked a lot of students in all the best urban legend methods. Wolf managed to save her roommate and a few other girls when the Crossover occured and she beat the demon to death with some cleaning implements. Confused about what had happened to her, she met the old Weavers-then only Conner and Aldrich- who had come to check out the incident and told her about the Weavers and Crossovers. At first, Wolf refused to believe them, until they convinced her to stay with them for a few days and proved that no one at the college seemed to remember her or count her in the police reports. Seeing no other course of action, Wolf joined up with the Weavers and continued with the team for a long time.
Then came the terrible event that wiped out the past Weavers. Wolf doesn't talk about it, so it's hard to guess what happened....whether they went slowly, or all at once, what caused it, when it happened....there don't appear to have been any other survivors. Wolf found herself alone, physically a few years older, with her fallen Captain's powers instead of her own. She wandered for some time, in a state of depression that faded into jaded weariness, before encountering a certain other person, also a biological Weaver, at a bar. Wolf, tired of being alone, suggested founded the Weavers again, and has remained the Captain of the new but slowly growing group ever since.
Armor/Weapons: Wolf wears a patched suit of riot gear taken from a space-faring alt-Earth, circa 27th century. It's a little worn out, but she keeps it in good repair and it fits well. The riot gear will deflect bullets and most any pre-27th century weaponry. As for weapons, Wolf carries a simple, polished quarterstaff, a short sword, a knife and switchblade, and a modified Draconian-style pistol fitted to use most of the Weavers' special ammo.
Wolf insists her team wear armor on missions, and doesn't allow dissenters on that subject.
Personality: Wolf has been around for some time and seen a lot. She often seems to have a hard time relating to others or expressing emotions, although she has quite a sense of dry humor. Wolf takes most things in stride; when misfortune strikes, she'll get back up, dust herself off, say, "Well, that's life," and set about fixing things. When Wolf gets angry, which is fairly rare, her temper doesn't flare up hot-she gets very cold. Beware. She's extremely protective of her team, and will instantly put her life on the line to prevent them getting hurt.
Tics: Wolf is no stranger to the facepalm. She tends to drum out a beat with her fingers when she's restless or mad, and also often runs one hand through her hair when on edge. She's also prone to staring off into the distance, and has random moods when she'll just go and walk alone, even in the rain or snow, not wanting to talk to anyone.


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 Post subject: Introduction Thread
PostPosted: 12 Sep 2009, 12:10 
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Past Weaver Bios:

Name: Aldrich Inkarious (last name probably a pseudonym)
Age: ?? (looks about 30)
Physical Appearance: Battered. Tallish, pale skin with lots of scars. Long face with several scars around the mouth and cheeks. Narrow gold-brown eyes. Longish black hair-about reaches shoulder length-straight at the top, turns curly towards the bottom. Thin, slanted eyebrows. Thin, slightly crooked nose. Lean-muscled, obviously in shape like all the other Weavers. Broad hands and feet. Lots of scars especially on the chest, around the lungs and ribs; a couple of obvious bullet marks that never look as though they've healed completely. Voice is low and raspy, can sound very harsh and rough at times.
Wears dark, practical clothing. Almost never seen in short sleeves. Wears a long, dark coat-the same coat that Wolf has in the present timeline. Also always wears a short, thin red scarf, usually high up enough to cover his mouth. Note to enemies: do not touch the scarf. Trying to remove the scarf will only result in you being strangled by it. If for some absurd reason he doesn't have the scarf, Aldrich will take one of his old silk performing scarves out (he carries a couple with him out of habit) and tie it around his mouth. Or he'll find something. Clothes are usually worn out, but sturdy. Lots of pockets.
Abilities: Aldrich is the original possessor of Wolf's current abilities. How she got them is a mystery, known only to her. Aldrich can basically manipulate the air and gravity around him. He can fly, or walk up the side of a building. He can also move at super-speeds, to the extent that he appears only as a blur. Since his ability extends to a short radius around him, his clothes do not tear off as he's running. This also applies to objects he is holding-to a certain extent. At best, he can manipulate an area of about a yard and a half around him in all directions, so anything longer than that that he would be holding would move so fast it would separate from the rest of it. This can make him very dangerous with a sharp blade or stick when he's got it moving very, very quickly.
History: Largely unknown, as he doesn't talk about it very much. What is known is that he was a magician for some time before his crossover, as evidenced by the magic props he keeps around and the skill with which he uses them. Also rather obvious is the fact that his crossover involved him getting shot in the chest several times, and that he nearly died from the event before being jump-started-as it were-by his crossover happening, leaving his chest wounds in a state of perma-heal. He's also dropped hints that it involved an insane warlock, a hellhound, and some prohibition-era gangsters. The hellhound in question somehow got converted to an ordinary (if jet black and red-eyed) dog, named Twitch, who hangs around the Weaver's HQ. He also apparently smoked a lot before the crossover, which healed most of the damage and the addiction, but it still contributes somewhat to his breathing problems.
Armor/Weapons: Aldrich carries a short sword, a simple, polished staff, and a Cobolt7 Pistol, modified with the usual Weaver specializations and usually loaded with stun rounds. In addition, Aldrich is handy at improvising weapons. Examples include (but are not limited to) a contact juggling ball used as a blunt instrument, a water bottle being used to stun someone, and a scarf used as a garrote.
Aldrich limits armor to a few pieces of superhero armor he stole from a particularly heroic dimension. The armor is made up of some weird substance that conforms to the body and can take quite a lot of hits and bullets without breaking or cracking. Aldrich wears a blue and yellow breastplate that just happens to have an A on it, and a pair of long dark green fingerless gloves.
Personality: Warm to his team-who he seems to view with a very protective, almost parental concern- and anyone he decides he likes, effortlessly cool to any one else. Aldrich is quite protective, and woe to you if you should decide to mess with anyone he considers under said protection. He's got a dry sense of humor but isn't snappish, unless involved in a crisis and someone else is being especially dim or unhelpful. Naturally a leader and instinctively takes command, most people don't try to argue when he does. Especially since he's best at making it seem like he knows what he's doing even when he doesn't. Aldrich's practiced enough to be quite good at combat, especially hand-to-hand, but dislikes it, preferring to talk people down and manipulate them around to get the best solution.
He tends to be more pessimistic about himself than anything else. For instance, he can comfort someone about their own failing and convince them it's not that bad, but will flatly make cruelly disparaging remarks about his own situation, a failing, past addiction or physical affliction. His tendency to conceal his own emotions unnervingly well can lead to trouble, as it makes it hard for others to tell when something is wrong, and they may not notice until it's too late. He's also good enough at making victories happen that running up against an ultimate failure may shatter him. He's struggled with addictions in the past and feels bad about them, and worries about relapsing-even though that's highly unlikely to happen to a Weaver.
Tics: Hands almost never still-he likes to play with things, and when devoid of anything to do for a long period of time often finds something in his pockets to mess with. Coughs a lot, sometimes loses his voice in the middle of a sentence, and sometimes breaks into long bursts of nasty, guttural hacking that can go on for some time. When he finally gets his attention focused-which is rare-or is sleeping, unconscious, etc, he has the unnerving ability to go completely still, apparently not moving at all. Extremely sensitive to poor air, or just any unfiltered air at all.


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 Post subject: Introduction Thread
PostPosted: 12 Sep 2009, 12:11 
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Name: Conner (last name unknown)
Age: ?? (looks about 25)
Physical Appearance: Somewhat short, with hard muscles; brings to mind a bobcat or cat-like stance: small but tough and ready to spring. Lightly tanned, skin scarred in places. Curved, short face, round eyes, short but slightly jutting nose, long, thin mouth. Eyes are bleached white, with only faint silver rings to denote irises and no apparent pupils. They also shine very faintly. Conner usually wears a black silk blindfold over his eyes to conceal them. Slightly fluffy gold-blond hair that comes down just past his ears and kind of floats around his head.
Conner follows the Weaver tradition of having lots of pockets in clothing, but using limits it to a pair of black fatigues and a black pocketed vest; he's often seen wearing a white pirate-esque shirt, or one of a few similar silk shirts-red, dark green or blue. Don't ask where he got them. When tired or hanging around the base, however, he's more likely to just be wearing t-shirts and patched jeans. He likes to go barefoot or wear sandals but on missions he wears combat boots.
Abilities: Although Conner is blind, he possesses a sort of mental 'sense' of the world around him. Almost a kind of constant, mental echolocation. This mental map appears to be ever so slightly ahead of the actual world, allowing Conner to realize that something is going to happen right before it actually does. While this is not great enough to foretell great coming danger, it is enough to allow him to dodge a punch or falling branch or realize that a car is coming. Note that this extends to physical events, not mental ones. He also has an odd kind of telekinesis that mainly involves being able to 'steer' objects. While he cannot pick something up mentally or toss it around great distances, once something is in motion he can influence its movement. This influence is about as strong as he would normally have physically-so, while he can't push a moving car around, he could guide the path of a bullet or arrow, making him an excellent sharpshooter. He can also stop something moving or a short period of time-half an hour at most for something really small, like an apple or baseball, five minutes at most for something really heavy, like a concrete block. Finally, Conner can 'push' mentally-he can exert a telekinetic force equivalent to a weak push or smack. This only works forwardly-he can push at something, but not pull-and lacks the ability to pick something up or do any subtle movements.
History: Like Aldrich, Conner says little about his history, and not a lot of it is known. He also likes to tell stories, and some of his more plausible ones have about as much chance of being true or not, making it hard to tell what actually happened and what he just made up. It is known that he has been around for some time, and that he was the second Weaver to ever join up. Apparently Aldrich rescued him after his crossover, as he was wandering around lost, blind and confused. His crossover was apparently rather traumatic, as he never discusses it and changes the subject whenever it comes up. Only Aldrich knows what happened, and he respects Conner enough not to say.
Armor/Weapons: Conner's powers make him an excellent marksman, so his weapons are a couple of Weaver-modified handguns, much like Aldrich's but with a few....upgrades. They can handle just about any kind of ammo that can be converted to fit, and have quite the range. He also has a nice 'Blue' pulse rifle with similar modifications, although that's not used as often.
Much to Aldrich's exasperation, Conner continually evades wearing armor unless absolutely necessary. In especially dangerous situations, he'll wear a mismatched suit of the same Hero Armor that Aldrich favors, but he mostly prefers to let his danger-sense save him.
Personality: Conner is the team's cheerful one. He's the one most likely to be joking during missions and keeps up a brave face no matter what happens. In fact, the more dangerous the situation is, the more Conner's likely to be joking, as for him it can end up being a coping technique. He doesn't mind mocking himself, either, and is quite willing to play up gay stereotypes to tease people he knows are uncomfortable around him. He actually tends to play the dashing hero, and enjoys any time he can get off a good one-liner or swoop in to save the girl....or guy. He likes telling tale tales, although with some of the things the Weavers encounter, it can be hard to tell what's a tall tale and what's not. In fact, it can sometimes seem as if Conner never shuts up.
Despite his exuberant appearance, Conner takes some things very seriously. Hurt his friends, and you'll pay. Make jokes about his blindness and you'll wish you hadn't. Conner never falters in his duties and is quite good at what he does, he just sees life as being more interesting and enjoyable with some added humor. His appearance makes sure you seldom realize how much he talks about himself, his past or his real feelings....i.e., never.
Conner is deeply grateful to Aldrich for saving him and is probably closer to him than anyone else. He's more able to detect when Aldrich is hiding something and is usually the one to call him on a mistake or bring him down if he goes too far, when no one else is quite brave enough to do it. He acts as a surrogate big brother to Wolf, and enjoys gently teasing Ivan.
Tics: Conner has a big gleaming smile, which he uses often. He often makes expansive hand gestures when he's talking. He sprawls when he's sitting, putting his feet up almost instantly if there's anything there for him to put them on. When nervous or restless, he plays with his cuffs or the tied-back part of his blindfold. He's not shy about touching others, and easily offers a hug for comfort or ruffles people's hair or pats them on the back.


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 Post subject: Introduction Thread
PostPosted: 12 Sep 2009, 12:12 
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Name: Ivan Kerofsky
Age: 437
Physical Appearance: Normal, Human: Medium height, unhealthily skinny. Very pale skin, nervous hands, Pocketwatch, simple belt, moving back and forth. Sharp, somber features, slash of a mouth, slightly pointed, tilted ears. Long, sad face, hollow cheeks. Noticeable eyebrows. Short, spiky white-blond hair.
Human, Possessed: Predatory stance. No longer nervous, now aggressive, ready for the fight. Hands look slightly clawed. Ears more pointed, almost animal-like. Irises and pupils huge and dark; eyes now yellow. Short fangs, sharp smile.
Vampire Soul: Like a dark ghost. Usually just appears above the waist; bare torso nothing but skin, bone and muscle, long skinny arms and spindly hands. Face like Ivan's but darker and crueler, pure white eyes, fanged smile. When appearing whole, wears a pair of ragged trousers held up by a simple belt; barefoot. Like an old photograph all in dark tones. Usually with a laughing or derisive look on its face.

Most of Ivan's clothes befit the world he came from: odd-styled, steampunkish suits. Looks oddly formal, waistcoat, cravat, shirt, dark pants, clean boots. Pocketwatch, simple belt with gun holster. Wears a dark brown coat over it, comes down slightly below the knees. Newly acquired clothes tend to be simple, dark dress shirts and pants.
Abilities: At his crossover, Ivan's vampire side was separated from his human side; effectively splitting two souls and minds. Surprisingly, there was more left of human Ivan, as he was the one left in the body and the vampire the one forced out.
When in his normal state, Ivan has no special abilities or powers; in fact, aside from Weaver-born qualities, he's pretty much a normal human. But his vampire side still exists as a disembodied spectre, which follows Ivan around. Normally only Ivan can see the vampire-which was dubbed Shark by the rest of the team after the first time they saw it-he sees it instead of his reflection a large part of the time. It can't get inside his head, but often speaks to him and no one else can hear. Ivan can also see Shark around him if he tries really hard-which he almost never does. Shark can also influence Ivan to an extent, planting suggestions and prodding him to do things, although being weaker than Ivan this rarely produces the results he wants. If both Ivan and Shark are willing (Shark is almost never NOT willing) Shark can possess Ivan. This can happen two ways: full possession or partial possession. Partial possession mostly looks like Shark sticking part of his body into Ivan's, giving him partial access to his old vamp abilities. Most commonly, Shark will possess Ivan from the head, allowing him to use his keen senses for a moment.
During full possession, Shark inhabits the body and Ivan is forced out. During that time, Ivan appears to Shark as Shark normally appears to Ivan, and cannot be heard or seen by others (unless by a psychic or some kind of spell). Ivan's body changes to reflect Shark's presence. While Shark is in control, he has all of his old vampire abilities. He is super-strong and fast, has excellent reflexes and an animalistic sense of hearing and smell-especially when it comes to blood. He has retractable fangs as well. In this state, however, direct sunlight and religious symbols are painful to him (garlic has no effect). Shark also has predatory instincts and is harder to deal with than Ivan, as once in control he is mainly focused on staying alive and eating. Ivan can kick Shark in the right direction, though; as the stronger soul, he can influence Shark in the same way Shark can influence him, with a bit more force. He can also initiate the return to his body, forcing Shark out, although this may take a bit of a struggle if Shark does not want to be out.
When Shark and Ivan first join the team, Ivan is scared stiff of Shark and won't allow him to possess him unless absolutely necessary. By the eventual-somehow-destruction of the past Weavers, however, they have become practiced and are working in almost perfect tandem.
History: Ivan comes from an alternate Earth mostly ruled by a vampire mafioso. Ivan was made a vampire some time before the takeover, when a vampire accosted him for hiding a fugitive in his house. Ivan was one of the more strong-willed and less active vampires, mainly staying below the surface, but he was still a member of the organization and willing to go to some lengths to get what he wanted. Ivan's crossover occurred when he was sent to deal with a group of amateur warlocks who had been attempting to summon a demon to protect them from the vamps. Instead, they managed to rip an existing Hole open wider, and by the time Ivan got there they were mostly all dead from the Hole's escaping energies. Investigating, Ivan got drawn through the Hole and was nearly eaten alive by it. The process split his vampire side from him, and he landed in St. Louis on the Weavers' home plane, sick, injured, frightened, and suddenly physically a Weaver but no longer physically a vampire. Shark, finding himself disembodied, was also freaking out, and the two of them managed to cause so much commotion-despite being essentially unnoticeable by the people around them- that Aldrich, Conner, and Wolf came to investigate. They took Ivan in and explained things to him, though they considered him a sympathy case rather than a member of the team, as he had no apparent abilities and seemed rather shattered. Ivan sheltered in the Weaver base for a couple weeks, adjusting to his new life-eating real food instead of blood for the first time in four hundred years, for instance-before feeling the need to leave the base and ended up lost in some nearby woods, tortured by Shark and so wracked and confused he could barely walk. The Weavers were coming through the woods, on the tail of some wild otherworldly creature, which happened to see Ivan and took him as prey. Panicked and pressed, Ivan and Shark switched places almost instinctively, and Shark beat the crap out of the thing. The Weavers arrived in time to see, and convinced Ivan to stay on and hone his ability. Though frightened to hell by this newest experience, Ivan agreed to stay on, mainly because they were the only ones who had any idea what was going on and he didn't want to give up sanctuary and apparent friends. Since then Ivan has made some headway with his abilities and his relation with Shark, but is still largely uncomfortable with the whole thing.
Armor/Weapons: Knives. Lots and lots of knives. Ivan seems to have a somewhat disturbing fascination with them, despite otherwise being peaceful and nervous and not prone to weaponry. He can hide a worrying amount of knives on his body and is usually able to produce one at a moment's notice. He's developed quite some skill with them, although it's mostly Shark who uses them. Otherwise, Ivan is quite uncomfortable with weapons, and tends to drop or misuse them in all the most embarrassing ways. He doesn't know what to do with a sword or most guns. He keeps an old-fashioned pistol from his world-one of the things he took with him when he went back to his world to get some things-and knows how to use it, but usually prefers not to. He'll stick to his knives. Or, y'know, his supernatural strength and reflexes when in vampire form.
When he first joined the Weavers, Ivan wore as much armor as he could find. He eventually figured out this didn't much work for him, as it only served to restrict his movements when he was actually fighting. Since that revelation, he prefers to stick to light armor or no armor at all, although he usually does wear a breastplate or something under his clothing, as he takes a moment to swap out if surprise attacked.
Personality: Ivan is quiet and mostly hangs in the background. He suddenly found himself human and in charge after four hundred years of being just a tiny facet of a predator's personality. Indeed, it took him some time to get a sense of self at all, and he's still very confused by it all. He comes off as being the weakest Weaver, and hardly anyone sees him as a threat at first. He lacks the hardened outlook and ruthlessness the other Weavers have cultivated over the years (although Shark's got it in spades) and usually affects a very gentlemanly, polite manner. However....Ivan has his moments. While conflicted, he has a secret, dark resolve lurking in him, and after all he did deal with undead gangsters for quite a long time, even if he wasn't exactly incarnate at that point. Put it this way: push Ivan's Berserk Button too many times and you may find yourself realizing that he and Shark were one entity at one time....and may not be entirely separated.

Shark, on the other hand, is everything Ivan's not. Cool, confident, reckless, ruthless, self-serving, in control. He's not exactly pure evil, but he is the incarnation of everything predatory about the vampire Ivan once was. His main goals involve staying alive and eating. He's developed somewhat, though, and has been shown to even have empathy for others-in fact, as time goes on, he becomes more dedicated to the team and the missions. He also, oddly enough, seems to care for Ivan, wanting to keep him alive and unhurt, although that may just be because no one knows what would happen to Shark if Ivan died. Shark is a master of jeering, sneering, sarcasm and dry wit. He's not above taunting and tormenting Ivan into doing something he wants or thinks needs to be done. During early missions, there was about a 50/50 chance he would do what was needed and come back on time, but by this point he can mostly be trusted.
He is still a vampire, though. When in control, he hits hard, bites hard, and takes no prisoners.
Tics: Ivan usually has a worried look on his face, and tends to stand with his hands deep in his pockets, or twisting them behind his back. He rarely looks comfortable, sitting formally and standing stiffly. He tends to stammer when talking, especially if it's to someone new. He gets an unsettling gleam in his eye when he's examining a knife, and his smile is so rare and odd it can be quite disturbing.
Shark almost always speaks in a jeering or sarcastic voice, but has few other noticeable tics.


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 Post subject: Introduction Thread
PostPosted: 12 Sep 2009, 15:06 
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Young Wolf:

Name: Wolf (?) real name assumedly known, but not used.
Age: 21 (looks about seventeen)
Appearence: Rather gawky, slightly tanned and freckled skin, large blue eyes and short nose, full mouth. Very short, spiky blonde hair. Wears worn clothes, jeans and t-shirts, sneakers or sandals. Is also usually wearing a green rain jacket.
Abilities: Wolf has a literal killer's instinct, which earned her her nickname. She has what is best described as a mental targeting system which tells her where the best place to strike is and when, even if she could never have known (e.g., a weakness of her enemy she had no knowledge of) and while she won't understand every weapon she comes across, she has an instinctive knowledge of the best way to use them. For Wolf, it's almost like a voice in the back of her head saying, "No, go here, hit him here, duck down, strike there," etc, except it's not a distinct voice so much as a feeling, a knowing. This only applies to battles and fights, not anything else, although the ability makes no distinction between opponents-it will work equally well for a duel to the death or a sparring match between friends, or even a fight against a wild animal.
History: The same as old Wolf, except without the old Weavers dying. Young Wolf has only been with them for four years, after all.
Armor/Weapons: Wolf dislikes wearing armor, but the Aldrich and the older members of the team won't let her get away with not wearing it. On missions she wears a basic hero's breastplate, arm and leg guards, and a gorget, and sometimes wears boxer's wraps around her wrists. As for weapons, Wolf mostly prefers hand fighting, but equips herself with a baton and blastrod, as well as a basic Weaver-modifed pistol Aldrich gave her.
Personality: Young Wolf is impulsive, not always thinking before doing. She's plenty intelligent, just has a tendency to react on impulse and whim. She's also rather more idealistic than the other Weavers, more likely to want to do the right thing and save everyone, even when there is no right thing and everyone can't be saved. Likely Wolf really does know this and simply hasn't accepted it yet. Still, she brings a spot of brightnesss to the team, and the others see her almost as a little sister, often finding themselves trying to protect her innocence. In the Weavers, it can be difficult to remember that people are still aging, so Wolf often still gets treated like a teenager, and likely will until someone younger joins the team to compare against. Wolf cheerfully puts up with this from her team mates most of the time, but should someone else try to be condescending or imply she's weak because she's a girl or young, she will hand them their ass.
Tics: Noticeable is the fact that Wolf smiles and laughs more than the rest of the team, even Conner. When standing, she often crosses her arms and fidgets, tapping one foot on the floor, always looking around.


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 Post subject: Introduction Thread
PostPosted: 12 Sep 2009, 19:50 
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Name: Icarus James Holt
Age: 24

Appearance:
In base form Icarus is gray skinned with an ever so slight red tint and a shock of brilliant blonde hair. Its features are slight and androgynous, being light but suggesting neither male nor female. If one were so bold as to try and peg an age on it, they would be most likely to say 14.
Height: In base form: 170 cm (~5’6â€



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 Post subject: Introduction Thread
PostPosted: 12 Sep 2009, 23:08 
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Name: Alexandre "Lexy" Montgomery MacDougall
Age: 39

Appearance: Lexy is a stout, shortish man with a pronounced paunch. His arms bear the characteristic marks of someone who had once possessed a significant amount of muscle on them, although the musculature that remains is a mere shadow of its former self. His face, has been similarly ravaged by the passage of time. His skin seems grimy at all times, stretched over his impressive beak nose and massively jutting chin with a tautness usually reserved for drum heads. This is all topped off by a shock of red hair going grey in some places which is nicely bookended by a fierce looking neck beard which serves to accentuate the already impressive chin. All of this is seemingly held together by the mischeif which glows behind his constantly darting green eyes.
Lexy usually wears a light woolen tunic belted at the waist, accompanied with a pair of somewhat patched and faded white trousers and the high black boots of the Napoleonic Infanterie de la Ligne. This is all topped off by a tattered plaid in the pattern of Clan Stewart (a sort of tartan blanket, worn over the shoulder) and a small dirk at the belt with a black leather sheath which both show signs of extreme disuse and neglect.

Abilities: Lexy has the Voice of Command. Whenever he colours his voice in a certain way, the sound seems to take on a mind of its own, working its way into the minds of those who hear it, and compelling them to do as they are told at an almost unconscious level. Naturally, those of usually strong wills can, with some effort, ignore the commanding undertones and any compulsion that may result, as can those who have sensitivity to Inter-Dimensional-Energy, like the 'weavers, although they do feel the tugs of the command voice, and may find themselves unconsciously playing along, just a little.

History: Born in Cherbourg to a family of Jacobite exiles who had been forced from their homeland after the Rising of 1745, Alexandre Montgomery MacDougall, or "Lexy" as he was commonly known, was instilled with a hate for the English who had exiled his family at a very young age. Although Lexy had been perfectly content to go through life doing something safe and productive, like being a schoolteacher or a brothel keeper, his family pretty much shoved him into the waiting arms of the French Army at the tender age of 15. Unfortunately for Lexy, by that time, France was in the throes of revolutionary fervour, and the traditional Ecossais Royaux regiments which his father and grandfather had served in had been disbanded as relics of the ancien regime. Seeing as going home was probably no longer an option, Lexy decided to throw his lot in with the revolutionary army and after a few weeks of what might have been considered training, he was assigned to the Army of Italy, recently placed under the command of a certain Corsican artilleryman named Napoleon Bonaparte.
Lexy never met Napoleon, but under his command, he learned to appreciate the basic points of military tactics and morale. Putting his newly found lessons to good use, he proved to be a rather good fighter and absolutely deadly with a bayonet. His career read like a history book on the Napoleonic Wars; The Pyramids, Austerlitz, Jena, La Coruna, Borodino, Moscow, Lepzig and finally, Waterloo. Unfortunately, his promotion record was less distinguished, having been promoted five times to sergeant, then subsequently demoted to corporal for drunkeness, lewdness and once, for the public debauching of a serving girl on the Austrian campaign. Nonetheless, the army gave him a sense of belonging which he had never even felt as a child, and when the emperor finally surrendered for good in 1815, Lexy was left with a pouch of back pay, directionless and disgustingly sober, on the streets of Calais.
He solved the second problem solved pretty quickly, but after eight years, the first ceased to go away. He resorted to begging in the streets to pay the upkeep on his enormous upkeep and pretty much decayed into a wreck of a man who would not have been recognized by the soldiers he had once commanded even if he had walked up to them and punched them in the face. One day, the debt collectors had figured that they had seen enough of this drunken scottish ex-soldier, cornered him, beat him to a pulp, left him for dead, and dumped him in the filthy cesspool of the Calais harbour.
When he woke up, there was no Calais harbour, no France, no people. He found himself in a wasteland amongst the shattered remnants of some kind of metallic city. After a few minutes, he once again passed out. This time, when he awoke, he was staring back at face, human faces, 'weaver faces. They took him back to their hideout and explained to him what exactly had happened. In the end, when the inevitable offer to join them came up, Lexy only asked for a bed, booze, pocket money and a claymore in return. These conditions were eagerly granted.

Weapons/Armour: Lexy knows his way around most weapons of his native time period, from a dirk to a 24 pounder siege gun. As such, he has armed himself with a broad bladed basket-hilt claymore and his deceptively sharp ancestral dagger which, though chipped and rust-spotted has been honed to the point where it can split human hair. Lastly, he has made for himself a particularly nasty little pepperbox revolver, a three-barreled wide-bore pistol capable of being loaded with three different types of ammunition (slugs, exploding and armour-penetrating) from one cartridge which he calls the "Corsican Special".

Personality: Life hasn't exactly been easy on Lexy, and the main thing he's learned from it is that death can come at any time, so it's best to enjoy yourself now, a personal philosophy which has gotten him into trouble in the past. Following this philosophy has gotten him into more scrapes and sticky situations than he cares to count, and has shaped his personality greatly. As such he is jovial, not very quick to anger and a great fan of casual violence. He takes events as they come and accepts them whilst underhandedly working his own way around any obstacles in his way. Although he's not a big fan of discipline, over twenty years of military service has ingrained in him a respect for superiors, and if the Captain tells him to do something, he will do it... eventually. A big fan of alcohol and loose women, Lexy does not hesitate to "explore" each timeline that they come across, returning to the group with a few tidbits of useful (or in some cases, crucial) information and invariably, empty pockets and the staggering gate of someone who has just gone completely shitfaced.

Tics: Most of Lexy's idiosyncrasies would be considered anachronisms by people from post-industrial worlds. He does not drink water, because water spreads cholera, he avoids tomatoes, because he thinks they're poisonous, he believes that the idea of women wearing pants is somehow below decency, (although he's a big fan of miniskirts) and other things like that. He also tends to swear (a lot) in French when agitated, though he is casually profane in english when he is among more relaxed circumstances. (like a meal or a bar brawl) He speaks both French and English with a light lowland scots accent.



"Those are brave men," he told Ser Balon in admiration. "Let's go kill them."
-Tyrion Lannister, A Clash of Kings


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 Post subject: Introduction Thread
PostPosted: 13 Sep 2009, 17:06 
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Name: Ute Kernspecht

Age: 23

Appearance:
Height: 168cm/5'6"
Weight: 49 kg/108lb
Ute is thin (due in part to to the hardships she had to endure prior to her crossover), but wiry, and quite strong for her size. She has long, very dark brown wavy hair. She is fair-skinned, but has quite striking dark brown eyes (which occasionally caused doubts about her ethnicity amongst some of her more "patriotic" peers). She has a preference for figure-hugging clothes, which further emphasize her skinniness.

Ability: Teleportation
The maximum distance that she can teleport is about a mile. Anything in firm contact with her (such as her clothes, or items that she is holding) can be 'ported with her, and since joining the weavers she has discovered that she can also take people. Teleporting drains her energy to some extent, so having to do it repeatedly, especially over long distances, or carrying a passenger, can eventually leave her exhausted. Passengers can find the experience a little disorienting.

History:
Birthplace: Mainz, Germany, alt-Earth where Nazi regime dominated.

Ute was born into a middle-class family to parents who were dedicated opponents of the Nazi regime and worked secretly for the resistance movement. Her father took part in a number of sabotage missions and was an expert with explosives. Although Ute was not herself actively involved in the resistance, she did learn a little about explosives from her father.

She studied English at school, and proved herself to be a very capable student. She would have loved to go on to study English at university but, in order to fit in their resistance activities, her parents both took on undemanding, low-paid jobs, and needed Ute to go out to work to help support the family as soon as she had completed her "Abitur" at school. A few months at secretarial college was all she could manage. She obtained a job as a secretary with a printing company, and continued to hone her language skills dealing with British customers and accompanying her boss on overseas business trips. By the time she encountered the Riftweavers, she was already a fluent English-speaker. She has a noticeable German accent, but does not succumb to the stereotypical German mispronunciations of English sounds such as "th" and "w".

Ute is an only child, but she had three cousins, Hans-Jörg, Dieter and Friedlinde, the offspring of Uncle Heini and Aunt Ruth, her father's brother and his wife. Another aunt, Birgitte, was her father's sister. Her mother had one brother, Rudolf, who got divorced before having any children. She assumes they are all still alive, but has not seen any of them for a long time.

Eventually, her father was caught during a mission, and the entire family was rounded up and sent to Dachau concentration camp and, eventually, to the gas-chambers. As the gas started to spread out through the chamber, and people began to succumb to its effects, a strange, amorphous apparition materialised in the centre of the terrified mass of humanity....

Ute remembers nothing more. Whether she lost consciousness in contact with the gas, or was absorbed by the monstrous creature, she doesn't know. But she woke up to find herself lying in a bed, with some strange (one of them very strange) people looking down at her, who told her they were called the Riftweavers, and that she had been rescued and was the only survivor.

She has not been with the 'Weavers long and is still finding her feet.

Armour/Weapons:
Most of the time, Ute just carries a simple dagger (teleport in, attack at close range, teleport out again. Rinse and repeat), but she is keen to learn how to use the more hi-tech weapons that some of the other 'Weavers have. However, she is not very technically-minded, and can be a bit of a liability if she hasn't had time to familiarise herself with a gadget's workings.

She isn't keen on armour, since it adds bulk to her clothing, but while exploring the contents of the Armory she found a thin, black breastplate made of a substance that adapts to the wearer's size and body shape (from the same source as Aldrich's, but she is unaware of that), which she wears when required to do so, frequently under her normal clothes.

Personality:
Ute is a worrier, and has rather low self-esteem, but is a lot more capable than she believes. Her experiences have left her with a very strong sense of justice and a hatred of prejudice, and a desire to help those most in need (by underhand means, if necessary). She doesn't trust easily, but once someone gains her trust she is very loyal, and will risk her own safety to help a friend.

The traumas of the concentration camp have not left her with any obvious outward scars, but she does suffer on occasions from nightmares.

Tics:
She has an instinctive tendency to behave respectfully towards superiors (using formal titles, rather than first names, etc.)and she finds it difficult to get close to people whom she perceives as above her in station, due to the atmosphere of fear in which she was raised. As the newcomer to the group she views all the 'Weavers as her superiors, but she is just beginning to loosen up a little with Icarus due to Icarus' own extremely casual manner.

She is a fan of Star Trek (which was banned on TV in her homeland, but which she used to access illegally via the internet).



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 Post subject: Introduction Thread
PostPosted: 18 Apr 2010, 08:32 
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This is the revamped Hasbro, which Zeth told me to post here.

Name: Hasbro Usi
Homeworld: Earth/Terra, Egypt, about 1999 BCE, beginning of the Middle Kingdom (Unknown Universe)
Ability: Umbraduco (A form of shadow possession which affects all things, animate or inanimate. Given this fact, functions like an alternate form of telekinesis, except it ceases to work when Hasbro's shadow is not connected with the shadow of the object he wishes to manipulate either directly or by proxy of more shadows. Operates on the assumption that the shadow can NOT act like a separate entity, but he CAN kinda/sorta appear as if he's affecting the lightsource creating it. This means the shadow can be cast anywhere immediately around him in a circle, the radius of which is the length of his shadow at that one point in time. Also, the strength of his ability is affected by the darkness of the shadow, so pitch black would make him godly, but pure light would render him maybe even less powerful than the average human, seeing as he has become accustomed to working in darker environs.)
Apparent Age: 22
Height: 5'10" (177.8 cm)
Weight: 138 lb (62.6 kg)

Bio:
Usi was born at the civilised edge of the Kingdom of Egypt near the dawn of the Middle Kingdom: about 1999 B.C.E. When still just a small child, Usi's father was caught stealing from the local marketplace, which, unknown and uncared about by his captors, was to make ends meet for his family back home on the all but destitute farm. Since this was not the first offense, Usi's father was enslaved. Given the hard times that followed, even worse than before, two of his youngest siblings amongst his four died within two years, lucky to have lasted that long. His mother fell deathly ill soon afterwards, leaving only Usi, the eldest son, and his younger brother and elder sister to plough the fields and take care of the family. Life was hard, as one could expect, and it took Usi years before he could force the practically barren ground grow enough to keep the family full on a regular basis, and even then other life necessities were hard to obtain when all the food went directly to mouth to survive.

But Usi didn't complain. In his mind the worst times were past, his remaining family was still together, even his invalid mother, something extremely few people in those days could claim. Soon Usi would be able to marry as well, if only he could prove himself a suitable suitor in some fashion.

That is, until the new pharaoh raised taxes to pay for the war effort. Now, the family was starving again most of the time as most of the produce went to taxes paying for the Egyptian juggernaut. It wasn't long before the prolonged effects of disease and malnutrition finally finished off Usi's mother, however much of a fighting spirit she may have had. And then it was just Usi and his brother, as his sister finally did manage to marry into a better family. This would have been great if losing part of their land to the groom's family hadn't been part of the deal, this limiting what Usi and his younger brother could produce for themselves. And then the one day came. If it was an escape or a damnation, he never really decided.

One day he was out at the well when he heard a strange rumbling noise coming from deep inside the well. He peered down into it when he was pushed. He managed to grab onto the edge of the well, holding onto the crumbling wall long enough to see that there was nobody around. The clouds flashed red suddenly, just as the well wall gave way. He fell down into the well, but instead of hitting water, he hit concrete in the middle of New York City. Well, it was mostly New York City, btu it was being ravaged by a rift that Wolf and Never, a duo of reality fixer-uppers, were busy, well, fixing-upping. The distortions of the hole were coming as fast as Never could fix them, and the small band of street thugs, high on who knows what and finding themselves with abilities they couldn’t explain, were battering Wolf with whatever they had. Usi got up shakily and, leaned against a wall, and then collapsed, completely overwhelmed by the experience. He was quickly found by Wolf and Never, and remained eternally grateful, joining the new Riftweavers and sticking with them for six years now. After becoming accustomed to his new found abilities and learning of what was outside what had been his entire world, there was no question of his going back to his home, seeing as inexplicably, his crossover had tossed him through time as well as space, and to the Weavers, time travel was sealed. He called himself Hasbro, retaining Usi as a surname, and reinvented himself, ready to not forget the past, but use it to fight for the future.

Appearance:
Hasbro, being Egyptian, has the typical bronzed skin of the people in that area. He is lean, muscles honed from years of pushing a plough through the rocky soil and then years of fighting with the Riftweavers. His head is shaved, with deep black eyes beneath a light brow. He usually wears dark, loose-fitting clothes.

Personality:
Hasbro Usi is still rather young by the standards of the Weavers--the Old Weavers, at any rate. He has only been with the Weavers a few years and has fallen into their strange way of life, but sometimes still finds himself surprised that he could have ever ended up the bizarre world they occupy, so far away from his homeland of Egypt. It took him a long time to finally accept that he wouldn't be sent back at any moment if he messed up. It took him still longer to realize that he couldn't go back, even if he wanted to.
Hasbro spent most of his pre-Weaver years in Egypt labouring hard, wary of authority, since he knew it could come in and make his life more complicated at any moment of it pleased. His past experiences had taught him that things could basically get worse at any time without warning. Once he joined the Weavers, he had trouble disregarding these ideas, and it took him a while to loosen up and stop worrying that Wolf would come down on him for mistakes or speaking out. Eventually he came to regard the Weavers as a strange sort of surrogate family, the kind he never had growing up. He still doesn't quite understand Wolf or Never (does anybody?) and so tends to gravitate to the other two younger Weavers, Ike and Ute.
He is very quiet by nature, often preferring to stand and watch conversations rather than leaping into them. When he does speak, he usually does so very seriously and thoughtfully. He has a sense of humor, but is not prone to joking and chattering as the other Weavers might be. He is also still a little thrown by pop culture, especially as the Weavers see it, and will often get confused when the others start making references to things.
Hasbro is very dedicated and disciplined. He well knows the value of hard work, having spend so long toiling on his family's land back home. As such he was unsettled by the complete lack of discipline in the Weavers. Although he didn't exactly mind not having to work all the time, he found himself missing the comfort hard work and routine had given him in difficult times. This drove him to take up his studies of fighting and martial arts, rigidly practicing until he became very good at it (though it was a bit tricky since there was no one around who knew martial arts). Thus he spends much of his free time practicing or working out, whether it be on his improvised firing range or wailing on some poor stuffed dummy. This tends to baffle the other Weavers, who encourage him to lighten up and relax, but over time they have learned how much he enjoys this and their criticism has mellowed to light teasing.
He has a very strong sense of honour. He considers it his duty to protect the innocent and will do so with his life. He is also uncomfortable with lying and deceit, although over time he's had to get over it. Despite his enjoyment of fighting he is uncomfortable with the act of taking a life and will refrain from doing so if at all possible; if he is up against a bunch of enemy Mooks he will do all he can to incapacitate rather than kill, unless he is absolutely sure they are not really alive (zombies or robots, for instance). He refuses to bow out of a situation if he thinks he can make it better for the people involved.

Weapons:
Hasbro doesn't carry many weapons. In fact, he carries exactly three at any given time. First is a sturdy khopesh, which he fashioned himself from materials that were more durable than anything he could have obtained back in Egypt, but in a form still familiar to him, though admittedly his customised khopesh is highly stylised from the form he saw the veteran soldiers carrying back home. Second is a sort of small carving knife resembling an odd Bowie knife with one side being a cruel, curved, serrated edge and the other a slick slicing edge. Lastly, Hasbro always carries a flashlight. Doesn't matter what kind it is, as long as he can cast a shadow with it.



Living in the limelight, the universal dream for those who wish to seem.
Those who wish to be must put aside the alienation,
Get on with the fascination,
The real relation,
The underlying theme.

The World From Here


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 Post subject: Introduction Thread
PostPosted: 18 May 2010, 17:43 
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Name: Ignatius "Iggy" Ward

Age: 277(appears to be 26)

Appearance: He isn't exactly the tallest but he is most definitely not short, he is somewhere in between. His body is a bit battered by his constant travelling with Wolf, but with his age, he doesn't really care anymore about his appearance. His skin is similar to a light tan colour. His eyes are green, nothing more, nothing less. His hair is brown, with a simple combing to the side, ending above the ears. He tends to have a blank stare most of the time, though it is mostly because he is looking for a logical (though mostly rational) solution to most problems big and small.
He tends to wear a simple grey trench coat, nothing that is too eye catching. He also wears black boots along with a single tone olive military uniform, there are no medals to speak of on his uniform but there are marks that point toward there once being some on his body.

Abilities: Ignatius is able to take his bodily spirit and manifest it into a doppelganger similar in both appearance and personality. It comes with limits though; he can only have three doppelgangers at a time, which drains his body to a point where his body must rest. If he does not rest, he starts to get seizures an effect of the spirit splitting from his body. He is familiar to this effect and chooses to create only one at any given moment.

History: Before he ever joined the Weaver's he was an archaeologist working in alt-Earth Egypt where the city of Cairo was under British control and undergoing modernization to unforeseen levels. The city was only a base of operation. His real work was in the Cairo underground. He tended to work alone, but in this case he had a team of archaeologists that explored the ruins of an ancient civilization.
He didn't see it coming. He and his team were blocked from the exit when Egyptian resistance members from the Egyptian People's Union destroyed the entrance. He was sure he would die from suffocation; he never imagined that the blocking was actually a blessing. He had moved on ahead, knowing there was no use in going back he went on deep inside the ruins. His crew by that time was dead from the dust as they decided to stay back and dig their way out.
Ignatius had gotten to a main chamber; it seems that the past wasn't all it has seemed to be. In the room he saw bottles upon bottles of a green liquid, glowing radiantly, creating a light in the room. He had stumbled upon a cache of elixir that granted the drinker near immortality...at a price. "He who drinks this will be torn, psychologically and physically. A price must be paid to become one with the gods."
Ignatius drank the concoction, taking the chance, it was the only liquid left, he had drunken all the water the crew had brought a few days before. Though he also had an insatiable thirst, he needed something to drink or else he would keel over from the subterranean heat. He fell to the ground, his body convulsing from the potions effects. He looked at his hands as his spirit was being ripped from his body, his very being ripped from him. His body being fatigued by the splitting, he passed out in the ruins. Ignatius’ spirit reentered his body, and moments later he woke up with a shock. He was still in the ruins but without any way of exiting he stayed in his spot, with little hope of rescue.
Ignatius stayed in the chamber, unable to sleep as the bottles of the green drink shone in the ruin. In his time in the chamber, he noticed his body was unable to age. He never seemed to be fatigued, the only time he ever felt fatigued was when his spirit would decide to leave his body.
He stayed in the ruins for many years, the city above finished with modernization. The bottles of elixir emptied of their contents. The elixir kept him alive, it may have torn his body but he was able to control his spirit over the time his person was in the ruins. During his years he also learned to control his emotions, though he will burst if he knows that it is appropriate.
One day, Wolf had opened a rift into the ruins, possibly by mistake. Upon meeting Wolf, he decided that his life as an archaeologist was over and that he would travel with Wolf in the Weavers. From his meeting he had acquired much of his clothing and his weaponry.

Weaponry/Armour: He has always been logical, but in this case he tends to carry unconventional weaponry. He carries an archaeologist’s pick and a 27th Century pistol. His pick tends to be the choice for a quiet incapacitation, it may have some rust but he takes care of the pick like it was an important part of his life. The 27th Century pistol is a weapon that he would use only in the case of an emergency, he isn’t that good of a shot. He knows he’s a horrible shot so he tends to stay behind to keep from hindering the others.
His armour comprises of a bulletproof vest and nothing more, an obvious homage to his archaeologist past, carrying light to allow for more room to carry artifacts. His elixir does not save him from unnatural death, meaning that a nasty fall or a wound could easily kill him.
Tics: He has only one tic, it is irrational thought.


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