Gods Among Us V4.0 [Superhero] (OOC|OPEN)

[Primordial Luxa]

Next few weeks of work and school are gonna be rough so expect me not to post a huge amount.
Anowa and Irhk and in charge of leading the School Thread.
The plan is to head to a casino in Madrid where you'll meet Major. I'll show up then and well head to the Death House.

Oh geez.

Feel free to TG me if you have any questions.

[Remnants of Exilvania]

Ha, city post will be coming not before tomorrow.
Additional English Course Examination is coming up.

[Glasyalabolas]

Super Identity: The Grey Avenger

Real Identity: Conrad J. Slidell

Is real identity known to the public: Conrad J. Baker

Hero, Villain, Neutral: A hero, though he does have a neutral streak when it comes to doing dirty work

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Appearance: A young man of 28 with dark brown hair, it's flat and greasy though usually swept to the right side of his face. He stand at 5'11 with a very straight back, and walks with a very self-confidant posture. He has grey-blue eyes and waxy skin the colour of tallow. Overall the general look oh him is something akin to a newly risen corpse, with the dark bags under his eyes only becoming more pronounced over time. His costume is effectively an overlong grey overcoat, similar to many civil war generals, along with a grey cotton bandanna to mask his identity. While not fighting he normally wears a simply white T-shirt and levi strauss jeans with a pair of aviator sunglasses.

Group Affiliation: A.D.S

Powers:
Over Run: Conrad can summon fallen confederate soldiers to defend himself, and others. These soldiers are armed with two Elgin Cutlass Pistols and wear standard confederate uniforms.
Knowledge Projection: He can share what he knows with confederate soldiers he summons from the grave, overriding their souls unless they are extremely willful.
Sensory Scrying: He can feel almost everything from those souls he summons, such as their vision, taste, and touch as if they were real.

Equipment: Outside his clothing, nothing

Weaknesses:
Being quite the shut in he is physically unfit, and as such in combat with a trained operative is easily beaten.
Further more the confederate soldiers he summons are lost souls meaning soul-damaging weapons will instantly dissipate them upon any hit. However due to their link with his mind, they also dissipate upon receiving injuries that would kill them. Moreover he cannot summon these souls for long as their pain starts to leak into his mind approximately 3 hours after summoning.

Background: Born in good ole' Georgia to the great granddaughter of Matilda Slidell he was often ashamed of his past. While as a child he would receive odd dreams, flashes of light, loud booms, and the whiny of horses. However when compared to monsters under the bed, this was easy to deal with, but as he found out more about his family history it grew worse. By eighth grade when the class got seriously into the Civil war, his dreams often became violent, soldiers being cut down in the field, and naval battles spilling into his mind. However he found that these dreams also became less frequent the more time he spent researching the Civil War, soon surpassing the class in his knowledge.

It was only in high school that the dreams became something... more. The teacher had moved onto the Trent Affair in american history during his junior year. While he and the rest of the class were bored stiff, the teacher, a woman of 45, mentioned that one of the diplomats was John Slidell. It was like a clear bell went off in his mind, and he suffered from an sudden seizure. Being rushed to the hospital, it was the first time he had a continuous 'moment' as he knew them. The waters were a dark blue like sapphire and the moist salty air reminded him of blood. A loud gunshot crack could be heard in the air, and two shadows appeared overhead. He looked up to see two men, swinging by the neck on a noose. Rather then rush to their aid or put them out of their misery. "What a shame." he said with a voice, not his own, nothing like he could even begin to try to say. He watched them swing for a bit before the doctors restarted his heart. He looked around the clean sterile white room where he was recovering, family members around him, and he could still hear the snap in his mind. For years nothing would happen, except he found a strong distaste for sailing, and wanted to change his name when he got old enough.

Years later at the age of 18 he felt a drive to join the army, and was soon shipped off to Afghanistan. For two more years he would no longer have any incidents in his mind, but he did know that it was helping him, to be out there. Simply holding a gun felt great, like a safety blanket, and whenever he looked into the endless expanse of desert, he felt safer from the waters more then ever. However it was not to last, as his first taste of combat would prove disastrous for his mind. The insurgents had captured a translator vital to moving through the mountains, and his squad was sent into retrieve them. Little did they know about the Russian mines. All other members of his squad died instantly. They surrounded him, shaking inside the jeep, and he could see his life's end. It as only when the final shots sounded that he knew he was still alive. Bleeding red pulp into the sand they had been more then shot, they had been dismembered and cut apart like cows. The only other standing thing was something he never expected to seen, a single soldier dressed in grey with pale white eyes. He gave a tip of his hat and went off into the mist.

For the next two years he would find out every single scrap of his history that he could, about the civil war, and about what he saw. Herr Tavern, Soldiers' Orphanage, Willie Lincon, Gettysburg. The stories were everywhere, and not just in America. Ghost soldiers were around the world, but despite his guardian spirit's he kept having worse dreams. More death. More bloodshed. It was on his last few days that he saw the final straw, the thing that would change his life forever. He had white hair. Pale and straw-like it was only in a few spots, but he recognized it nonetheless. This was the hair of his ancestor, a Slidell. This wasn't an ancestor helping him out. This was a possession. He decided to get help after the war, and immediately contacted the few people he knew would be interested in his powers. The A.D.S and they were.

For four years he would work with him using their technology he would search every avenue to stop the changes. However in turn he would serve a dog on a leash, a security manager for them to use when they had a meta-human threat. So long as he had a chance, however slim, he would do whatever it takes to save his soul. Maybe it would work.

Summary: He's a normal man who happens to be able to summon dead confederate soldiers back from the grave, and is currently being slowly possessed by one of his ancestors. No big deal.

[Primordial Luxa]

Super Identity: The Grey Avenger

Real Identity: Conrad J. Slidell

Is real identity known to the public: Conrad J. Baker

Hero, Villain, Neutral: A hero, though he does have a neutral streak when it comes to doing dirty work

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Appearance: A young man of 28 with dark brown hair, it's flat and greasy though usually swept to the right side of his face. He stand at 5'11 with a very straight back, and walks with a very self-confidant posture. He has grey-blue eyes and waxy skin the colour of tallow. Overall the general look oh him is something akin to a newly risen corpse, with the dark bags under his eyes only becoming more pronounced over time. His costume is effectively an overlong grey overcoat, similar to many civil war generals, along with a grey cotton bandanna to mask his identity. While not fighting he normally wears a simply white T-shirt and levi strauss jeans with a pair of aviator sunglasses.

Group Affiliation: A.D.S

Powers:
Over Run: Conrad can summon fallen confederate soldiers to defend himself, and others. These soldiers are armed with two Elgin Cutlass Pistols and wear standard confederate uniforms.
Knowledge Projection: He can share what he knows with confederate soldiers he summons from the grave, overriding their souls unless they are extremely willful.
Sensory Scrying: He can feel almost everything from those souls he summons, such as their vision, taste, and touch as if they were real.

Equipment: Outside his clothing, nothing

Weaknesses:
Being quite the shut in he is physically unfit, and as such in combat with a trained operative is easily beaten.
Further more the confederate soldiers he summons are lost souls meaning soul-damaging weapons will instantly dissipate them upon any hit. However due to their link with his mind, they also dissipate upon receiving injuries that would kill them. Moreover he cannot summon these souls for long as their pain starts to leak into his mind approximately 3 hours after summoning.

Background: Born in good ole' Georgia to the great granddaughter of Matilda Slidell he was often ashamed of his past. While as a child he would receive odd dreams, flashes of light, loud booms, and the whiny of horses. However when compared to monsters under the bed, this was easy to deal with, but as he found out more about his family history it grew worse. By eighth grade when the class got seriously into the Civil war, his dreams often became violent, soldiers being cut down in the field, and naval battles spilling into his mind. However he found that these dreams also became less frequent the more time he spent researching the Civil War, soon surpassing the class in his knowledge.

It was only in high school that the dreams became something... more. The teacher had moved onto the Trent Affair in american history during his junior year. While he and the rest of the class were bored stiff, the teacher, a woman of 45, mentioned that one of the diplomats was John Slidell. It was like a clear bell went off in his mind, and he suffered from an sudden seizure. Being rushed to the hospital, it was the first time he had a continuous 'moment' as he knew them. The waters were a dark blue like sapphire and the moist salty air reminded him of blood. A loud gunshot crack could be heard in the air, and two shadows appeared overhead. He looked up to see two men, swinging by the neck on a noose. Rather then rush to their aid or put them out of their misery. "What a shame." he said with a voice, not his own, nothing like he could even begin to try to say. He watched them swing for a bit before the doctors restarted his heart. He looked around the clean sterile white room where he was recovering, family members around him, and he could still hear the snap in his mind. For years nothing would happen, except he found a strong distaste for sailing, and wanted to change his name when he got old enough.

Years later at the age of 18 he felt a drive to join the army, and was soon shipped off to Afghanistan. For two more years he would no longer have any incidents in his mind, but he did know that it was helping him, to be out there. Simply holding a gun felt great, like a safety blanket, and whenever he looked into the endless expanse of desert, he felt safer from the waters more then ever. However it was not to last, as his first taste of combat would prove disastrous for his mind. The insurgents had captured a translator vital to moving through the mountains, and his squad was sent into retrieve them. Little did they know about the Russian mines. All other members of his squad died instantly. They surrounded him, shaking inside the jeep, and he could see his life's end. It as only when the final shots sounded that he knew he was still alive. Bleeding red pulp into the sand they had been more then shot, they had been dismembered and cut apart like cows. The only other standing thing was something he never expected to seen, a single soldier dressed in grey with pale white eyes. He gave a tip of his hat and went off into the mist.

For the next two years he would find out every single scrap of his history that he could, about the civil war, and about what he saw. Herr Tavern, Soldiers' Orphanage, Willie Lincon, Gettysburg. The stories were everywhere, and not just in America. Ghost soldiers were around the world, but despite his guardian spirit's he kept having worse dreams. More death. More bloodshed. It was on his last few days that he saw the final straw, the thing that would change his life forever. He had white hair. Pale and straw-like it was only in a few spots, but he recognized it nonetheless. This was the hair of his ancestor, a Slidell. This wasn't an ancestor helping him out. This was a possession. He decided to get help after the war, and immediately contacted the few people he knew would be interested in his powers. The A.D.S and they were.

For four years he would work with him using their technology he would search every avenue to stop the changes. However in turn he would serve a dog on a leash, a security manager for them to use when they had a meta-human threat. So long as he had a chance, however slim, he would do whatever it takes to save his soul. Maybe it would work.

Summary: He's a normal man who happens to be able to summon dead confederate soldiers back from the grave, and is currently being slowly possessed by one of his ancestors. No big deal.

Looks good. I'm a fan of Haunted Tank too.
But a few things before I accept.

First he needs another weakness and his current ones need a little work.
"Moreover he cannot summon these souls for long as their pain starts to leak into his mind approximately 3 hours after summoning." Make this 1 hour.
Add a weakness that the more his soldiers get hurt the more hurt he feels. Also clarify how many soldiers he can summon at once. It shouldn't be more 10 without serious damage to him.

Second. The person who runs ADS is no longer here so you should choose another organization. The Siren Cartel, the Knights and the SS may all be good picks.

Third. Make sure you read the note on souls in the OP.

Do that and resubmit. Thank you.

[Mechanist Combine]

So... Who was going on which trip again?

[Primordial Luxa]

So... Who was going on which trip again?

Spain: Filia, Teddy, Elsa, Maria, Ezra, William, Michael
Russia: Cohen, Jonathan, Damian, Imogen
Venus: Roc, Raphaël, Anatoly, Heamet,

[Glasyalabolas]

Super Identity: The Grey Avenger

Real Identity: Conrad J. Slidell

Is real identity known to the public: Conrad J. Baker

Hero, Villain, Neutral: A hero, though he does have a neutral streak when it comes to doing dirty work

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Appearance: A young man of 28 with dark brown hair, it's flat and greasy though usually swept to the right side of his face. He stand at 5'11 with a very straight back, and walks with a very self-confidant posture. He has grey-blue eyes and waxy skin the colour of tallow. Overall the general look oh him is something akin to a newly risen corpse, with the dark bags under his eyes only becoming more pronounced over time. His costume is effectively an overlong grey overcoat, similar to many civil war generals, along with a grey cotton bandanna to mask his identity. While not fighting he normally wears a simply white T-shirt and levi strauss jeans with a pair of aviator sunglasses.

Group Affiliation: Siren Cartel

Powers:
Over Run: Conrad can summon fallen confederate soldiers to defend himself, and others. These soldiers are armed with two Elgin Cutlass Pistols and wear standard confederate uniforms. During the civil war entire vollies were fired simultaneously, and as such those confedrate soldiers died in almost exactly the same way at the same time. Due to this 'similarity' he calls forth these souls by linking his mind with that of his ancestor, and temporarily bringing them back to the world of the living.

Knowledge Projection: He can share what he knows with confederate soldiers he summons from the grave, overriding their souls unless they are extremely willful.

Sensory Scrying: He can feel almost everything from those souls he summons, such as their vision, taste, and touch as if they were real.

Equipment: Outside his clothing, nothing

Weaknesses:
Having not trained in a formal enviroment for years, he has lost the physical capabilities he once had while in the military, and as such is quite weak in combat.
Further more the confederate soldiers he summons are lost souls meaning soul-damaging weapons will instantly dissipate them upon any hit. Moreover he cannot summon these souls for long as their pain during death starts to leak into his mind approximately 1 hour after summoning. He can only summon 10 of them without suffering the chance of re-living of one his summoned souls death's. Due to the empathetic nature between him and the souls he summons physical and mental wounds, real or percieved, inflict injury upon said soldiers.
Due to how his posession is causing his brain to become 'in tune' with the dreamlands, drugs can disrupt his abilities, and in pictacular hallucinogens. Finally they can be seperated from him at a range of 2 miles before dissapating, as any further would involve interacting with his possessor further.

Background: Born in good ole' Georgia to the great granddaughter of Matilda Slidell he was often ashamed of his past. While as a child he would receive odd dreams, flashes of light, loud booms, and the whiny of horses. However when compared to monsters under the bed, this was easy to deal with, but as he found out more about his family history it grew worse. By eighth grade when the class got seriously into the Civil war, his dreams often became violent, soldiers being cut down in the field, and naval battles spilling into his mind. However he found that these dreams also became less frequent the more time he spent researching the Civil War, soon surpassing the class in his knowledge.

It was only in high school that the dreams became something... more. The teacher had moved onto the Trent Affair in american history during his junior year. While he and the rest of the class were bored stiff, the teacher, a woman of 45, mentioned that one of the diplomats was John Slidell. It was like a clear bell went off in his mind, and he suffered from an sudden seizure. Being rushed to the hospital, it was the first time he had a continuous 'moment' as he knew them. The waters were a dark blue like sapphire and the moist salty air reminded him of blood. A loud gunshot crack could be heard in the air, and two shadows appeared overhead. He looked up to see two men, swinging by the neck on a noose. Rather then rush to their aid or put them out of their misery. "What a shame." he said with a voice, not his own, nothing like he could even begin to try to say. He watched them swing for a bit before the doctors restarted his heart. He looked around the clean sterile white room where he was recovering, family members around him, and he could still hear the snap in his mind. For years nothing would happen, except he found a strong distaste for sailing, and wanted to change his name when he got old enough.

Years later at the age of 18 he felt a drive to join the army, and was soon shipped off to Afghanistan. For two more years he would no longer have any incidents in his mind, but he did know that it was helping him, to be out there. Simply holding a gun felt great, like a safety blanket, and whenever he looked into the endless expanse of desert, he felt safer from the waters more then ever. However it was not to last, as his first taste of combat would prove disastrous for his mind. The insurgents had captured a translator vital to moving through the mountains, and his squad was sent into retrieve them. Little did they know about the Russian mines. All other members of his squad died instantly. They surrounded him, shaking inside the jeep, and he could see his life's end. It as only when the final shots sounded that he knew he was still alive. Bleeding red pulp into the sand they had been more then shot, they had been dismembered and cut apart like cows. The only other standing thing was something he never expected to seen, a single soldier dressed in grey with pale white eyes. He gave a tip of his hat and went off into the mist.

For the next two years he would find out every single scrap of his history that he could, about the civil war, and about what he saw. Herr Tavern, Soldiers' Orphanage, Willie Lincon, Gettysburg. The stories were everywhere, and not just in America. Ghost soldiers were around the world, but despite his guardian spirit's he kept having worse dreams. More death. More bloodshed. It was on his last few days that he saw the final straw, the thing that would change his life forever. He had white hair. Pale and straw-like it was only in a few spots, but he recognized it nonetheless. This was the hair of his ancestor, a Slidell. This wasn't an ancestor helping him out. This was a possession. He decided to get help after the war, and immediately contacted the few people he knew would be interested in his powers. He had been a teenager, once, and had a couple of burnt out friends. He got a costume and used it for a while, helping defend their turf before he got noticed. The Siren Cartel eventually did and gave him an offer, he would serve as an enforcer and in return they do some research into drugs that could solve his 'condition' before it got any worse.

For four years he has been working with them and their 'merchanise' in search of a cure to his eventual posession, with some progress having been shown in stymying it. However in turn he serves a dog on a leash, a security manager for them to use when they had a meta-human threat. So long as he had a chance, however slim, he does whatever it takes to save his soul. Maybe it will work.

Summary: He's a normal man who happens to be able to summon dead confederate soldiers back from the grave, and is currently being slowly possessed by one of his ancestors. No big deal.

(He's sorta like a tuning fork, he is at once frequency, the ghost is at another, and whenever he needs to summon some spirits he 'shifts' their frequency to nearly his which means they show up in the real world. Obviously anything that would disrupt this freqency, such as copious drugs, means they can't connect as well ergo those spirits can't even come close to being summoned into reality. I hope this better allows things to fit in with how souls work in the Dreamland.)

[Primordial Luxa]

Super Identity: The Grey Avenger

Real Identity: Conrad J. Slidell

Is real identity known to the public: Conrad J. Baker

Hero, Villain, Neutral: A hero, though he does have a neutral streak when it comes to doing dirty work

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Appearance: A young man of 28 with dark brown hair, it's flat and greasy though usually swept to the right side of his face. He stand at 5'11 with a very straight back, and walks with a very self-confidant posture. He has grey-blue eyes and waxy skin the colour of tallow. Overall the general look oh him is something akin to a newly risen corpse, with the dark bags under his eyes only becoming more pronounced over time. His costume is effectively an overlong grey overcoat, similar to many civil war generals, along with a grey cotton bandanna to mask his identity. While not fighting he normally wears a simply white T-shirt and levi strauss jeans with a pair of aviator sunglasses.

Group Affiliation: Siren Cartel

Powers:
Over Run: Conrad can summon fallen confederate soldiers to defend himself, and others. These soldiers are armed with two Elgin Cutlass Pistols and wear standard confederate uniforms. During the civil war entire vollies were fired simultaneously, and as such those confedrate soldiers died in almost exactly the same way at the same time. Due to this 'similarity' he calls forth these souls by linking his mind with that of his ancestor, and temporarily bringing them back to the world of the living.

Knowledge Projection: He can share what he knows with confederate soldiers he summons from the grave, overriding their souls unless they are extremely willful.

Sensory Scrying: He can feel almost everything from those souls he summons, such as their vision, taste, and touch as if they were real.

Equipment: Outside his clothing, nothing

Weaknesses:
Having not trained in a formal enviroment for years, he has lost the physical capabilities he once had while in the military, and as such is quite weak in combat.
Further more the confederate soldiers he summons are lost souls meaning soul-damaging weapons will instantly dissipate them upon any hit. Moreover he cannot summon these souls for long as their pain during death starts to leak into his mind approximately 1 hour after summoning. He can only summon 10 of them without suffering the chance of re-living of one his summoned souls death's. Due to the empathetic nature between him and the souls he summons physical and mental wounds, real or percieved, inflict injury upon said soldiers.
Due to how his posession is causing his brain to become 'in tune' with the dreamlands, drugs can disrupt his abilities, and in pictacular hallucinogens. Finally they can be seperated from him at a range of 2 miles before dissapating, as any further would involve interacting with his possessor further.

Background: Born in good ole' Georgia to the great granddaughter of Matilda Slidell he was often ashamed of his past. While as a child he would receive odd dreams, flashes of light, loud booms, and the whiny of horses. However when compared to monsters under the bed, this was easy to deal with, but as he found out more about his family history it grew worse. By eighth grade when the class got seriously into the Civil war, his dreams often became violent, soldiers being cut down in the field, and naval battles spilling into his mind. However he found that these dreams also became less frequent the more time he spent researching the Civil War, soon surpassing the class in his knowledge.

It was only in high school that the dreams became something... more. The teacher had moved onto the Trent Affair in american history during his junior year. While he and the rest of the class were bored stiff, the teacher, a woman of 45, mentioned that one of the diplomats was John Slidell. It was like a clear bell went off in his mind, and he suffered from an sudden seizure. Being rushed to the hospital, it was the first time he had a continuous 'moment' as he knew them. The waters were a dark blue like sapphire and the moist salty air reminded him of blood. A loud gunshot crack could be heard in the air, and two shadows appeared overhead. He looked up to see two men, swinging by the neck on a noose. Rather then rush to their aid or put them out of their misery. "What a shame." he said with a voice, not his own, nothing like he could even begin to try to say. He watched them swing for a bit before the doctors restarted his heart. He looked around the clean sterile white room where he was recovering, family members around him, and he could still hear the snap in his mind. For years nothing would happen, except he found a strong distaste for sailing, and wanted to change his name when he got old enough.

Years later at the age of 18 he felt a drive to join the army, and was soon shipped off to Afghanistan. For two more years he would no longer have any incidents in his mind, but he did know that it was helping him, to be out there. Simply holding a gun felt great, like a safety blanket, and whenever he looked into the endless expanse of desert, he felt safer from the waters more then ever. However it was not to last, as his first taste of combat would prove disastrous for his mind. The insurgents had captured a translator vital to moving through the mountains, and his squad was sent into retrieve them. Little did they know about the Russian mines. All other members of his squad died instantly. They surrounded him, shaking inside the jeep, and he could see his life's end. It as only when the final shots sounded that he knew he was still alive. Bleeding red pulp into the sand they had been more then shot, they had been dismembered and cut apart like cows. The only other standing thing was something he never expected to seen, a single soldier dressed in grey with pale white eyes. He gave a tip of his hat and went off into the mist.

For the next two years he would find out every single scrap of his history that he could, about the civil war, and about what he saw. Herr Tavern, Soldiers' Orphanage, Willie Lincon, Gettysburg. The stories were everywhere, and not just in America. Ghost soldiers were around the world, but despite his guardian spirit's he kept having worse dreams. More death. More bloodshed. It was on his last few days that he saw the final straw, the thing that would change his life forever. He had white hair. Pale and straw-like it was only in a few spots, but he recognized it nonetheless. This was the hair of his ancestor, a Slidell. This wasn't an ancestor helping him out. This was a possession. He decided to get help after the war, and immediately contacted the few people he knew would be interested in his powers. He had been a teenager, once, and had a couple of burnt out friends. He got a costume and used it for a while, helping defend their turf before he got noticed. The Siren Cartel eventually did and gave him an offer, he would serve as an enforcer and in return they do some research into drugs that could solve his 'condition' before it got any worse.

For four years he has been working with them and their 'merchanise' in search of a cure to his eventual posession, with some progress having been shown in stymying it. However in turn he serves a dog on a leash, a security manager for them to use when they had a meta-human threat. So long as he had a chance, however slim, he does whatever it takes to save his soul. Maybe it will work.

Summary: He's a normal man who happens to be able to summon dead confederate soldiers back from the grave, and is currently being slowly possessed by one of his ancestors. No big deal.

(He's sorta like a tuning fork, he is at once frequency, the ghost is at another, and whenever he needs to summon some spirits he 'shifts' their frequency to nearly his which means they show up in the real world. Obviously anything that would disrupt this freqency, such as copious drugs, means they can't connect as well ergo those spirits can't even come close to being summoned into reality. I hope this better allows things to fit in with how souls work in the Dreamland.)

Perfect. Love it. Accepted.
Your character can show up and do things in the City thread.

[Mechanist Combine]

So... Who was going on which trip again?

Spain: Filia, Teddy, Elsa, Maria, Ezra, William, Michael
Russia: Cohen, Jonathan, Damian, Imogen
Venus: Roc, Raphaël, Anatoly, Heamet,

Thank you.

[Remnants of Exilvania]

So... Who was going on which trip again?

Spain: Filia, Teddy, Elsa, Maria, Ezra, William, Michael
Russia: Cohen, Jonathan, Damian, Imogen
Venus: Roc, Raphaël, Anatoly, Heamet,

I forgot wether I was going to Spain or to Russia...
TG meh!

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Spain: Filia, Teddy, Elsa, Maria, Ezra, William, Michael
Russia: Cohen, Jonathan, Damian, Imogen
Venus: Roc, Raphaël, Anatoly, Heamet,

I forgot wether I was going to Spain or to Russia...
TG meh!

Haegler again? Jesus...

[Remnants of Exilvania]

I forgot wether I was going to Spain or to Russia...
TG meh!

Haegler again? Jesus...

Nah, when he returns, Brookes, nor any other magical or meta, will have anything to laugh about.

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Haegler again? Jesus...

Nah, when he returns, Brookes, nor any other magical or meta, will have anything to laugh about.

You know the fun thing about writing Brookes?

He will always laugh about Haegler, even if he's almost dead.

[Remnants of Exilvania]

Nah, when he returns, Brookes, nor any other magical or meta, will have anything to laugh about.

You know the fun thing about writing Brookes?

He will always laugh about Haegler, even if he's almost dead.

He sure is a happy man

[Primordial Luxa]

So are people's schedules just as crazy as mine or are people just not interested?

[Anowa]

So are people's schedules just as crazy as mine or are people just not interested?

Just as crazy kinda.

[Kingdom of Irhk]

So are people's schedules just as crazy as mine or are people just not interested?

Somewhat crazy. Will probably have the time to write a decent post Sunday. I was also waiting for more students to post.

[The Flutterlands]

So are people's schedules just as crazy as mine or are people just not interested?

I'm going to post. Just don't know what to post. Anyone want to interact?

[Primordial Luxa]

So are people's schedules just as crazy as mine or are people just not interested?

I'm going to post. Just don't know what to post. Anyone want to interact?

Filia is going to Spain. Perhaps she should get her things in order?

[Corvus Metallum]

Trackalackin' for now. I'll see about getting an app up during the week, just depends on how my schedule pans out.

[Remnants of Exilvania]

So are people's schedules just as crazy as mine or are people just not interested?

Crazy enough.
Chemistry Exam coming up. And Arts right after.
Chemistry is in competition with maths over which is my worst subject.
And Arts is also way down the ladder.

[The Flutterlands]

Going to post in Academy now. Anything to do with Raphaël and the Professor?

Edit: Also I'm having trouble thinking of what they did during the last two days.

[Granis]

Decided I want to make a city character, so here he is. Let me know if there's anything wrong.

Super Identity: The Dreaded

Real Identity: Adrien Gestahl

Is real identity known to the
public: No, thankfully.

Hero, Villain, Neutral: Wants to be a hero, but circumstances cause everyone to think he's a villain.

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Appearance:
Normal:
https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/83 ... 00x400.jpg

Enemy of the World: http://img01.deviantart.net/ac77/i/2016 ... ak09a1.jpg

Group Affiliation:
None, but if anyone's hiring...

Powers:
Enemy of the World:
Adrien possesses a scarf that, when worn, wraps around his body and transforms him into a new form with monstrously enhanced physical abilities.

However, this form comes with a terrible drawback. Anyone who sees it directly will succumb to their fight or flight instincts, meaning that anyone who sees him will either flee in terror or try to attack him. This has caused many heroes he has encountered to fight him, thinking him a threat to humanity despite his constant assurances that he means no harm, and subsequently painting him as a villain to any who hear of him. Only someone with exceptionally strong mental fortitude is able to resist this ability.

The scarf, however, is not truly a scarf at all. It is in fact the last remnant of a demonic entity Adrien encountered named Diz, agreeing to form a contract with the creature before it could die. It is possible that there are deeper, more powerful aspects to Enemy of the World, but Diz claims it would take a lot of damage being done to Adrien before he would be able to take manual control of their body, allowing him to use his true abilities, and even then, its possible that the possession will fail, causing the two of their minds to only partially merge, a process that would throw them into a mindless rage.


Equipment:
Diz, who has taken the form of a scarf in order to survive.

Weaknesses: (for each major piece of equipment and each power you should have one weakness.)
Viewing Enemy of the World instigates a fight or flight reaction in all but those with the strongest will, getting him into multiple fights and turning almost everyone who sees him against him, hence the name.

Background:
Adrien Gestahl is a man who, despite everything he has been through, has managed to stay relatively optimistic about the world, to the point where some may even call him naive if they hadn't heard his story.

When he was eleven years old, his mother died in a gas explosion at her workplace. His father, for reasons unknown to Adrien, refused to accept that it was a gas explosion that killed his wife, and and worked himself to the point of exhaustion to find the 'true' reason for his wife's death. This proved to be his undoing, as his blatant neglect of his health to focus on his search eventually led to his own death, leaving Adrien an orphan.

Refusing to let himself be taken to an orphanage, he ran from his London home, wandering across Europe doing odd jobs. It was hard at first, and he saw some truly horrible sights, but he also saw things that grew his faith in humanity, eventually deciding that above all else, he truly enjoyed helping people. This did not, however, mean he could relax, as he got into more than a few fights as a wanderer. He was largely on his own, and therefore had to learn how to survive on his own.

It was not until he was nineteen years old that he encountered the dying entity, Diz. The creature would not reveal how it had come into such a state, but was surprised when it realised Adrien wanted to help it. After a few moments, Diz revealed that Adrien could form a contract with it, which would allow it to live off the spare energy of his soul. In return, Diz would give him access to his power, Enemy of the World, although he explained the horrible price this power held. Naturally, as well as most likely stupidly, Adrien accepted with barely a second thought, seeing it as an opportunity for him to help more people.

Ever since that day, he has done his best to save everyone he could, even if they did never seem to appreciate it.

Summary: (a 1 to 3 sentence summary of the character that can go in the character vault. Keep it short and reference powers and backround.)
A young, idealistic English man who has made a contract with a demonic entity in order to save people, despite the fact that his power causes everyone to either fear or attack him whenever they look at him.

[The Flutterlands]

Again, I'm having writers block but give me time...

Actually I might have something to give before going to bed tonight

[Remnants of Exilvania]

I can't believe that I spent the last couple HOURS making a shitty Polandball comic...