Show Posts
376
Role Playing Public Radio Podcast / Re: The next big RPPR campaign - what will it be?
« on: January 17, 2011, 09:23:08 PM »
Here's my PC. I'll stat him out on here if someone demands it. Otherwise, I'd like to save myself the typing.
Name/Alias: Norman “Median” Meyer
Loyalty: Chinatown and the Yang family (4)
Passion: seeking escape through transhuman artifacts and lore (2)
Description: Norman looks he was once quite the physical specimen, but time and middle-age have added a few pounds. Still, he would never be confused for a push over; he strikes a formidable profile, especially with the huge cybernetic arms starting at each massive shoulder. Each is made of banded organic steel with strange runes coursing down the fibrous strands like tattoos. Rather than hands, Norman has been reduced to 3-pronged claws that rotate 360 degrees on a ball joint that serves as a hand. While remarkably more dexterous than they look, the claws are still clumsy and twitch uncontrollably if their master is distracted. Due to his arms, Norman can only really fit into his work outfit (a sleeveless shirt and Dickies), an oversized Carhart jacket, or a very long sleeved kung-fu outfit he bought in Chinatown. While he looks ridiculous in the latter (he is as Irish as they come), it does manage to hide his arms in public. If he is going into known danger, he wears his hardhat, as per OSHAA regulations.
Occupation: Non-union construction worker/ Part-time Youth Counselor
History: In college, Norman spent more time in the Outdoor Activities office than in class. He rock climbed, mountain biked, and white water rafted his way to a D average, doing homework solely as a means to some adrenaline junkie end. In his sophomore year, Norman tagged along on the trip of lifetime: a Transamazonian river ride and hike. Early one morning, Norman left camp by himself to check out a “Sweet cliff” he’d seen the previous evening. He didn’t care that the climb bordered the quarantine zone where the Luyten mothership crashed in ’71 or that the group’s guides had strictly forbidden anyone even nearing the site. Off trail and alone in the jungle, Norman stumbled upon the wreckage of one the Luyten shuttle vessels. Norman investigated, believing the Luyten disease long since dead in the 30 years since the crash. While he was in no danger of sickness, it turned out to one of the worst mistakes of his life.
Norman disturbed the ancient wreckage upon entering, resulting in an avalanche of rocks and alien debris. Though he survived with only minor injuries, the entrance to the ship was completely cut off. Norman’s spelunking experience only kept him calm enough to realize he was trapped in an impenetrable metal shell in near total darkness with no help on the way. Days past. Starving, dehydrated, and trapped in the dark with only jungle vermin the bones of creature’s beyond space to keep him company, Norman went mad.
As he frantically dug another hole amongst the piles of dead, desperate and screaming for help, he saw a rat scurry through one of the few slits of light available. Frenzied, he chased after it, sticking he thought to be a hole. Immediately, a blinding, constricting pain shot through his arm and the wreck shone in an eerie yellow light. A strange, metal arm had grafted itself over Normans arm and was shooting a warbling, static-y beam of energy to another point in the cavernous room, enclosing and dragging another prosthetic just like it. The second in the pair suddenly shot onto Norman’s other arm, this time just as painful as the first. In agony, Norman fell to his knees and shouted upwards…and as he did so, the claws of his new limbs conjured a wall of pure force that punched a hole straight through the roof of the crashed Luyten ship.
Declared dead by his fellow campers, in violation of a global quarantine zone, and inseparably grafted to illegal Luyten technology, survival became just the beginning of Norman’s problems. He could not return to his old life or secure work to build anew as long as the strange metal arms clung to him, and there appeared to be no way to remove them. The metal was seemingly indestructible, and what few devices could pierce the armor did nothing but damage the flesh beneath. While gashes in the metal were instantly healed in a flood of what must have been nanobots, wounds in Norman’s arms would remain untreated. As if that weren’t enough, the arms seemed to function via telepathic link to Norman, but his fumbling control of them could barely function the clumsy claws he now had to use as fingers. Lastly, the telepathic link carried residuals from its former, inhuman user. Norman found himself haunted every night by the nightmare memories of some creature from outer space.
Norman wandered homeless for a few years before a noble social worker broke international law and helped him. The man’s name was Barney Yang, and Norman still attests to this day that he owes the man his life. Barney found Norman work as a construction worker; his claws were dexterous enough to operate a wheelbarrow, and shifty foreman’s counted on Norman’s ability to generate forcefields to protect their men when too stingy to buy proper safety precautions. Norman also began work part-time at Barney’s shelter, specializing in the counseling of teens seeking Talents since Raganorok. He uses his arms to “scare kids straight.”
Now in his 30’s, Norman has built a life for himself. He has an apartment, he works on a regular basis, and Barney’s daughter, Barbara, is dating him. Still, his clumsy metal touch provides a serious roadblock in the couple’s intimacy, he must constantly conceal his arms least he risk arrest, and the Luyten dreams grow ever worse. After years of nightmares, Norman finds he can understand snippets of the Luyten language. As he gains more control over the power of the arms, he begins to remember more and more about their past user. Painful as this process is, for the first time in years, Norman has hope he can learn to fully control the prosthetics that devil him, perhaps even remove them once and for all.
Known Superhuman Abilities: All of Norman’s abilities derive from the cybernetic sleeves grafted to his arms. The Focus (-1) is Indestructible (+2), but cannot be removed, is difficult to finely maneuver and provides regular nightmares (Haunting -2). Using the arms, Norman can generate nearly impenetrable forcefields at will in a limited number of shapes. He can shoot square panes of solid light at high speeds, ramming and crushing everything in their path. He can use these same panes of light as a sort of magic carpet, but he has very little control and hates flying. Most impressively, he can generate perfect domes of crackling protection over himself and others. Finally, with practice, Norman has figured how to tightly roll his forcefields into a sharpened cone that can be launched with deadly force.
Gear:
--Hard Hat (1 HAR to head)
--Luyten Riot Sleeves (4 HAR to arms)
Name/Alias: Norman “Median” Meyer
Loyalty: Chinatown and the Yang family (4)
Passion: seeking escape through transhuman artifacts and lore (2)
Description: Norman looks he was once quite the physical specimen, but time and middle-age have added a few pounds. Still, he would never be confused for a push over; he strikes a formidable profile, especially with the huge cybernetic arms starting at each massive shoulder. Each is made of banded organic steel with strange runes coursing down the fibrous strands like tattoos. Rather than hands, Norman has been reduced to 3-pronged claws that rotate 360 degrees on a ball joint that serves as a hand. While remarkably more dexterous than they look, the claws are still clumsy and twitch uncontrollably if their master is distracted. Due to his arms, Norman can only really fit into his work outfit (a sleeveless shirt and Dickies), an oversized Carhart jacket, or a very long sleeved kung-fu outfit he bought in Chinatown. While he looks ridiculous in the latter (he is as Irish as they come), it does manage to hide his arms in public. If he is going into known danger, he wears his hardhat, as per OSHAA regulations.
Occupation: Non-union construction worker/ Part-time Youth Counselor
History: In college, Norman spent more time in the Outdoor Activities office than in class. He rock climbed, mountain biked, and white water rafted his way to a D average, doing homework solely as a means to some adrenaline junkie end. In his sophomore year, Norman tagged along on the trip of lifetime: a Transamazonian river ride and hike. Early one morning, Norman left camp by himself to check out a “Sweet cliff” he’d seen the previous evening. He didn’t care that the climb bordered the quarantine zone where the Luyten mothership crashed in ’71 or that the group’s guides had strictly forbidden anyone even nearing the site. Off trail and alone in the jungle, Norman stumbled upon the wreckage of one the Luyten shuttle vessels. Norman investigated, believing the Luyten disease long since dead in the 30 years since the crash. While he was in no danger of sickness, it turned out to one of the worst mistakes of his life.
Norman disturbed the ancient wreckage upon entering, resulting in an avalanche of rocks and alien debris. Though he survived with only minor injuries, the entrance to the ship was completely cut off. Norman’s spelunking experience only kept him calm enough to realize he was trapped in an impenetrable metal shell in near total darkness with no help on the way. Days past. Starving, dehydrated, and trapped in the dark with only jungle vermin the bones of creature’s beyond space to keep him company, Norman went mad.
As he frantically dug another hole amongst the piles of dead, desperate and screaming for help, he saw a rat scurry through one of the few slits of light available. Frenzied, he chased after it, sticking he thought to be a hole. Immediately, a blinding, constricting pain shot through his arm and the wreck shone in an eerie yellow light. A strange, metal arm had grafted itself over Normans arm and was shooting a warbling, static-y beam of energy to another point in the cavernous room, enclosing and dragging another prosthetic just like it. The second in the pair suddenly shot onto Norman’s other arm, this time just as painful as the first. In agony, Norman fell to his knees and shouted upwards…and as he did so, the claws of his new limbs conjured a wall of pure force that punched a hole straight through the roof of the crashed Luyten ship.
Declared dead by his fellow campers, in violation of a global quarantine zone, and inseparably grafted to illegal Luyten technology, survival became just the beginning of Norman’s problems. He could not return to his old life or secure work to build anew as long as the strange metal arms clung to him, and there appeared to be no way to remove them. The metal was seemingly indestructible, and what few devices could pierce the armor did nothing but damage the flesh beneath. While gashes in the metal were instantly healed in a flood of what must have been nanobots, wounds in Norman’s arms would remain untreated. As if that weren’t enough, the arms seemed to function via telepathic link to Norman, but his fumbling control of them could barely function the clumsy claws he now had to use as fingers. Lastly, the telepathic link carried residuals from its former, inhuman user. Norman found himself haunted every night by the nightmare memories of some creature from outer space.
Norman wandered homeless for a few years before a noble social worker broke international law and helped him. The man’s name was Barney Yang, and Norman still attests to this day that he owes the man his life. Barney found Norman work as a construction worker; his claws were dexterous enough to operate a wheelbarrow, and shifty foreman’s counted on Norman’s ability to generate forcefields to protect their men when too stingy to buy proper safety precautions. Norman also began work part-time at Barney’s shelter, specializing in the counseling of teens seeking Talents since Raganorok. He uses his arms to “scare kids straight.”
Now in his 30’s, Norman has built a life for himself. He has an apartment, he works on a regular basis, and Barney’s daughter, Barbara, is dating him. Still, his clumsy metal touch provides a serious roadblock in the couple’s intimacy, he must constantly conceal his arms least he risk arrest, and the Luyten dreams grow ever worse. After years of nightmares, Norman finds he can understand snippets of the Luyten language. As he gains more control over the power of the arms, he begins to remember more and more about their past user. Painful as this process is, for the first time in years, Norman has hope he can learn to fully control the prosthetics that devil him, perhaps even remove them once and for all.
Known Superhuman Abilities: All of Norman’s abilities derive from the cybernetic sleeves grafted to his arms. The Focus (-1) is Indestructible (+2), but cannot be removed, is difficult to finely maneuver and provides regular nightmares (Haunting -2). Using the arms, Norman can generate nearly impenetrable forcefields at will in a limited number of shapes. He can shoot square panes of solid light at high speeds, ramming and crushing everything in their path. He can use these same panes of light as a sort of magic carpet, but he has very little control and hates flying. Most impressively, he can generate perfect domes of crackling protection over himself and others. Finally, with practice, Norman has figured how to tightly roll his forcefields into a sharpened cone that can be launched with deadly force.
Gear:
--Hard Hat (1 HAR to head)
--Luyten Riot Sleeves (4 HAR to arms)
