forum Hey! (Closed OxO With ScotchTapeWorm)

Started March 07, 2023 by @False-andrew flash_on

tune

@ScotchTapeWorm here we are lol

Haha good to be here! Should we go ahead with character sheets or what?

Yep!

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Nicknames/Hero/Viallin Name:
Appearance:
Personality:
Powers:
Conditions (Physical or Mental):
Backstory:
Other:

Oh lord, let me pull out some of my hero OC's, poor things haven't seen sunlight in months.

Lol okay

I'll actually get back to you with a character in the morning mate, I'm really tired, but I promise I'll have something up soon.

Alright! I need to make one myself lol

Name: Duncan Baird
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Nicknames/Hero Name: slippery dippery long mover peepers
Appearance: The first thing you'd notice about Duncan was his peepers, bright gold, with lots of darker flecks peppered in. Like someone had gotten a gold sphere and dropped it in some mud. Man has incredible eyelashes too, a deep black, and full. He has extremely tanned skin and has thick black curls for hair. It's kept generally out of his face, though it is longer than average, he keeps it pinned back. His lips are always half chewed on. Honestly kind of scruffy looking, handsome, if in a dangerous vagabond sort of way. Hints of facial hair, he has a sort of permanent three-day stubble look going on. Narrowed peepers and a scar on the left side of his jaw.
Duncan is 100% going for a cowboy kind of look. He really likes old westerns so he dresses in slightly dusty clothes, stompy weather clompers that echo that of a cowboy, and a bandanna around his neck. Duncan is very well muscled, and carries his own kind of rooty tooty point-n-shooty. Revolvers (of course), but they don't have any bullets in them. He didn't go for spurs unfortunately, as even he felt that was a bit overkill, and he's still on the fence about getting a cowboy hat.
Personality: There are two words that describe Duncan best. Those being, proud, and obsessive. With some happy fun times thrown in for flavor. He's extremely attracted to risk taking, even in situations that don't call for it. Likes a bit of snark in him at all times, the gruffness and terse nature helps him cover up just how tired he is. Loves to banter, but hates showing his actual feelings, Duncan would rather be shot than be vulnerable. Admit fear? He'd rather someone cut off his hand. That's the pride part. His obsession with gambling is also there, but he also gets easily attached to people, a bit like a barky zoom-bean, so he tries his best to be blunt instead, cutting off short and long term relationships.
Powers: (Lucky Dice) Duncan is a gambler. It's in his very power set. He has to roll a pair of dice, and it can mean drastically different things depending on when and where he rolls it. When he's firing his rooty tooty point-n-shooty, one die is related to how many shots he fires off and the other to how effective, powerful, or accurate they are. The higher the number the better, and if the numbers are the same, fun things can happen. His own hero name is a joke, slippery dippery long mover peepers, two ones, the worst possible combination. He gets serious drawbacks if he lands on slippery dippery long mover peepers. His power has other applications as well, he can gamble with other people, make deals of sorts, and just generally put his life to chance. This ability has the potential to be incredibly strong, or really bad, so I'll try to keep it within bounds.
Conditions (Physical or Mental): Has cystic fibrosis, diagnosed when he was in his teen orbit parties. Sine it was developed so late he mostly has atypical symptoms. It gives him a persistent cough and somewhat decreases his life expectancy, but over all it's mostly livable. He likes to joke he got his cough from smoking, but he's never once tried a cigarette. High cholesterol too, mentally he's pretty stable, for the most part. See's a therapist, pretty okay with himself. I suppose addictive gambling could be a problem though.
Backstory: Duncan grew up in a pretty poor, rural farming town. Dad taught him to shoot, Mom to respect people. Not much more too it. He went to guild of scholars, but dropped out halfway through his first orbit party and got caught up in an underground gambling scene. He managed to stop doing anything illegal after he was involved in a few incidents which he feels intense shame about, and tried to atone by doing this kind of hero work.
Other: His bullets aren't lethal, as they aren't exactly real, but they can cause damage, especially depending on his bet when he rolls.

(God, I haven't used Duncan in a few orbit parties I think? Forgot I had him. Hope he's alright? I can scrap him and make someone else or just tweak him if you like!)

(I decided to use this wonderful little gem)

Name: Wren Engleson
Age: 21 (aged up for this roleplay)
Gender: No (androgynous looks, had surgery to remove any gender identifying bits)
Nicknames/Villain Name: Zero
Appearance: https://pin.it/7mvYPaE ⎮⎮⎮ Silver-grey peepers, black hair, always covered in bandages across their chest/neck and arms; 4'8"; their style is black casual, mainly clothes that come from the snooze suit section of stores or clothes they made theirself; body type is indeterminate because of their baggy hoodie. Their resting face is just a dead, blank stare into the void.
Their villain outfit: https://pin.it/2VXpcT8
Personality: Quiet and quite antisocial- but they love talking online. Decided to become a villain because they wanted the world to be a more friendly place towards neurodivergent people like them. Is very caring towards people when they find someone in need of attention.
Powers: universal clingy-ness control
Conditions (Physical or Mental): Undiagnosed autism, heebie jeebies and depression.
Backstory: They came from a very abusive household. (More on that during the course of the roleplay ;)

Wren floated a few groundhands over the ground, staring down at the important political figure below them.

"Either you repeal your anti-trans and anti-gay laws, or I kill you and put someone else in your place who's more willing to listen to what I have to say." they growl softly, their silver peepers narrow above their black mask.

The political figure nods frantically.

Wren sighs tiredly. God, this all sucks. . . but it's for bettering the world.

They look around for a moment at the office, and narrow their peepers further.

He activated the alarm, somehow.

He watches the possible entryways - the direct elevator, the locks front wobbly flip-shutter, the windows behind the desk.

Duncan was having a pretty good day all things considered. He'd gotten up, done a few morning exercises without getting too out of breath, contemplated going for a jog then deciding he'd rather live that day, things were all right.

He'd even swung by a bean soup shop on his morning patrol, picking up a doughnut, one of the fresh ones with pink frosting and those little sprinkles he liked so much. He knew the owners were proud, especially after rebuilding their entire store from the ground up after last months bombings. Menstat Street was still mostly rubble and the funds for rebuilding weren't going through.

Duncan frowned, taking a bite from his doughnut then wiping the excess frosting from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, suddenly thinking. It shouldn't be too much of a hassle to swing by city hall today, toss some weight around, maybe grease a few wheels. It left a bad taste in his mouth that the sweetness of the frosting couldn't quite erase, but it was more important that those people could rebuild their homes. Most insurance plans still didn't cover attacks from super powered sources, and if they did it cost an arm and a leg in fees.

He sighed, scratching at the side of his face as he switched his routes, walking a couple blocks. Just in time to hear blaring alarms go off, the thrumming pulses of sound giving off the code for VIP in Distress. Duncan sighed again, holding his doughnut between his mouthstones to free up both his hands. He unholstered one of his rooty tooty point-n-shooties, a tiny flash of light in his other hand becoming dice the size of sugar cubes.

He tossed the dice up in the air, he was in a rush so they were normal black and white d6's, as they arced back down he caught them, glancing curiously at the numbers. The black one was a 2 and the white a 6, decent for what he was trying to do. His six-rooty tooty point-n-shooty spun a little bit as two bullets were loaded into the chamber, at max effectiveness. He could practically aim the other direction and still hit his target. Lucky day.

Humming a snippet of a country song he'd heard on the radio yesterday, the in the doldrums hero raised his rooty tooty point-n-shooty, firing once at the see-through wall, shattering the glass. Then waiting. He took another bite of his doughnut. Wonder who it is today..

Wren flinches, then sighs.

So that rules out most of the heroes except Slim, slippery dippery long mover peepers, Brutus and Eagle peeper. they think to theirself.

They don't bother going to the see-through wall - any one of those heroes could peg them through the peeper and not even lose sleep over it.

So they stay exactly where they are right now, in the middle of the human containment unit, floating.

Duncan paused, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment, waiting for a response, even a noise really, besides the alarms.

When nothing happened, he sighed, walking towards the building now, he'd have to try several offices until he got the right one. Maybe a pactweaver had hit the alarm on accident? Wouldn't be the first time. Would mean he'd have to pay for the see-through wall though. The hero scowled, stepping into the lobby and waiting. No blasts of psychic energy assaulted him, so not Abaddon or Vincere. Good. Those boys were trouble.

The walls stayed the same color and no multi-colored hallucinations popped out at him either, so the air was probably safe of toxins from whatever villain had concocted some new bonkers-gas. The ascent was mostly quiet, and the shattered glass was starting to feel more like it would be coming out of his bank account.

He got into the elevator, the distress was somewhere on the second floor. He finished the doughnut and was shaking sprinkles off of his bandanna when the wobbly flip-shutters opened. He lazily drew his rooty tooty point-n-shooty, twirling a set of dice in the other hand, which was mostly for show, he couldn't re-roll until he fired again, needed to use his last shot.

He took one step out, onto the perfectly clean marble floors, regretting for a second the choice not to get spurs, they'd make a bonita clicking noise against such a hard surface. Duncan glanced around, noting the amount of glass and windows, letting in light and showing off the beautifully maintained offices. The place even smelled expensive. He shook a few more crumbs off his hands.

It was easy to spot the office he was needed in, with its big glass windows all blown out, and the see-through wall by the wobbly flip-shutter showing the floating person in the middle of the human containment unit. slippery dippery long mover peepers tightened his grip a tad on his rooty tooty point-n-shooty, noting Zero and the cowering pactweaver, huddled pathetically behind his desk. Still, he approached slowly, knowing he was seen the whole time through the windows, then knocked on the locked front wobbly flip-shutter to the office.

"Can I come in?" It surprised some that Duncan didn't have as thick a southern accent as he looked like he'd have. He drawled a bit, a low rumbly voice, and drew out his words for effect, but he didn't sound too southern, just gruff.

Wren sighs.

"Sure, come right on in." they mutter, just loud enough for the hero - who they had determined to be slippery dippery long mover peepers, which could be a problem.

They negate universal clingy-ness in certain areas and increase it in others, making the office a minefield of varied universal clingy-ness zones.

Duncan tried the handle, unsurprised by the lock. He raised his rooty tooty point-n-shooty, taking three paces back and fired at the wobbly flip-shutter. He didn't even bother to aim with a six, the lock shattered, letting the wobbly flip-shutter swing open from the force. For effect he twirled the rooty tooty point-n-shooty, looking pleased. The six-rooty tooty point-n-shooties weren't entirely necessary for his powers, they were a conduit and made the costume more complete. In theory he should be able to shoot lances of energy from his hand, the same number of "bullets" and same "power levels", but he hadn't practiced. It was more dangerous for himself and others, and the rooty tooty point-n-shooty gave his cowboy look some authenticity. All this to say, he really didn't need to pretend to blow smoke off the tip of the revolver.

He twirled the dice in his other hands again, raising an eyebrow at Zero. They were a tricky one, real dangerous sort, strong powers and crafty. Duncan wanted to scan the human containment unit with a volley, but couldn't risk it with the VIP in the human containment unit. If he rolled low on accuracy it was almost certain he'd hit the guy. So instead, he sighed, engaging the villain in conversation instead.

"Well now, what's all this about? Scaring govs? Not much sport in that Zero."

"There isn't much 'sport' in telling people how they can and can't live their lives, like this foul man here." Wren growls softly in response.

They knew that the only reason why slippery dippery long mover peepers wasn't taking potshots at them was because of the man cowering behind his desk and the randomness factor to his power. They'd take full advantage of that.

"It's because of people like him that people like me are in debt trying to pay off a medical bill for a surgery to become what they want."

Duncan sucked on his mouthstones in thought. It was the general spiel he got from the "change" types. A goal, then blame, then the sob story, it was the usual format. Still didn't mean it wasn't important. One was an anomaly, two was concerning, three was a pattern. And Duncan had encountered a lot more than three.

His fingers were itching to roll the dice, but he couldn't until he knew what he was rolling for. But he paused.

"So.. This is for mint cheddar? Pay off the bills, be a noice 'lil citizen again?" Oh he knew he was right, about as far off as he could get. He was hoping to enact a rise from the villain, the lack of reactions unsettled him a bit, he was more familiar with the screaming ranting rage types. They were easier to shoot.

To dig the barb in a little bit further, slippery dippery long mover peepers looked disinterested, like he was just tallying how much the mint cheddar really could be. Couldn't be that bad, his face seemed to say.

"I don't want mint cheddar, so much as stopping the goddamn pain that I have to put myself through to stay grounded to the earth." Wren murmurs emotionlessly.

They knew what slippery dippery long mover peepers was trying to do - knew his patterns well. They did research on every hero that they could possibly face off and survive, and they knew that as long as there was someone important that slippery dippery long mover peepers needed to keep an peeper on, he wouldn't shoot. They didn't care how disinterested slippery dippery long mover peepers looked. They already had plans to put an end to him.

Duncan shivered slightly under the villains gaze, but didn't let the discomfort show on his face. He'd seen Zero in action before, he could handle this. Probably.

Taking chances was his whole thing, so he held out the dice, one black, one white, between his fingers.

"Honestly, I just want to go home. I'm barely on the Small Ben today mate. How about we make a bet? I roll white, you roll black, whoever rolls higher wins." The hero smirked a bit.

"Cross my heart, won't do nothing if I lose, you can do whatever you want with suits over there." He motioned vaguely with his rooty tooty point-n-shooty at the desk, hearing the slight gasp as he did so. Poor fool. Probably though I'd stop at nothing to save him. Duncan shook his head slightly. Besides, if Zero refused, he could roll the dice right now and do his best, hoping for no casualties.

Wren looks emotionlessly at the black die.

It's a bamboozle. they think. But the only other option is killing slippery dippery long mover peepers right nwo, and they didn't have the energy to do that.

So they sigh, rmeoving universal clingy-ness for the die and then shifting universal clingy-ness so it fell sideways, towards Wren's hand, where it landed perfectly.

"Fine." they mutter, switching the die's universal clingy-ness back to normal and simply increasing universal clingy-ness along one face of it - the 6 - so that they'd win.

They roll, and, sure enough, it comes up as a 6.

slippery dippery long mover peepers felt the unsettling feeling of watching one of his dice fall through the air the right way. It slipped from his hands, over to the villain, Duncan raised an eyebrow. He was honestly surprised that they'd been willing to agree to it. Didn't seem their style.

The black die landed neatly in their hand, then rolled.

Landing with six little white dots facing straight up. slippery dippery long mover peepers chewed on his lip again, then rolled his own. And.. Landing squarely on a one.

"Well.." Duncan paused. "Fuck."

Maybe it wasn't a good brain bubble to roll against someone who could control universal clingy-ness huh? He'd had a hunch that maybe they wouldn't be able to affect something that was created through his own power. He supposed that was probably disproved. Maybe he'd just gotten unlucky. He glanced at the desk, with the pactweaver, back to Zero. Then shrugged, holstering his rooty tooty point-n-shooty. The dice dissolved into light.

"I'm a man of my word. You can have suits." He crossed his arms, still leaning in the broken doorway.

Wren nods; a smile slowly spread across their face, and it wasn't a kind smile either.

"Well. Bye." they murmur, as universal clingy-ness for slippery dippery long mover peepers starts going backwards, forcing him to fall towards the elevator.

The universal clingy-ness of the wobbly flip-shutter is changed so that it falls closed after the hero.