A Fabled Escape: Chapter Eins ( a.k.a Project Momentary/Accepting sign-ups now!)
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Sweet. Crimson and The Professor, your apps are accepted. Now we have the rest to wait on... and a surprise guest. =D
I'll have my template up soon.
I'll have my template up soon.
?!
- Joined
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Name: "Gambling" Hansel
Age: He appears to be in his early twenties.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Considering his infamous reputation as a ruffian and a gambler, Hansel's charmingly boyish face surprises even his fellow fairy-tale denizens. He scarcely seems more than twenty--even younger, when clean-shaven--and his twinkling blue eyes draw people in with their genuine appeal. The most prominent feature of Hansel's face is his wide, usually grinning mouth, housing a brilliant display of pearly-white teeth.
His face itself, while still boyish and inviting, bears the subtle signs of financial hardship: All of his bonier facial features stand out as a tad prominent, and his cheeks are covered in several weeks' worth of bristly blond stubble. Atop his head, Hansel's blond hair is messily swept back to about the nape of his neck, with a few stray pieces falling down across his forehead.
Adding to his youthful appearance is Hansel's height and build: The gambler of lore only stands at about five feet and nine inches, with slim shoulders and almost delicately thin hands. As far as garb is concerned, Gambling Hansel's wardrobe is decidedly well-stocked; most of his winnings are spent on things as frivolous as clothes. He dresses in the fashion of a nineteenth-century dandy, in fine frock coats, waistcoats, and silk cravats. Unlike the austere Victorians, however, Hansel likes to dress in more attention-grabbing colors than the typical drab black (green being his favorite color). However, it should be duly noted that he always wears the same pair of well-used leather boots; he has more than once needed to make a speedy escape.
Personality: To view Gambling Hansel as a fairy-tale hero would be a definite stretch of the term--for even "protagonist" is being generous to him. Despite all his outward charm, Hansel is lazy, uncouth, and completely willing to prey upon the trust and ignorance of others. He favors upper-class restaurants for their finery, and filthy lower-class taverns for the company offered by their patrons. While he certainly enjoys "lending a hand" to someone in need, rarely are his actions not tinged with self-interest. Hansel is a born con-man, such a slave to material wealth that there is little he will do to avoid parting with it.
However, in spite of all these rather poor character traits, there is some golden nugget of good in Hansel's soul. The lengths he will go to for money are far greater than those of most people--but they do have limits. While he wouldn't think twice about cheating a poor farmer out of his earnings, even Gambling Hansel is known to take a stand against the unjust. Then again, he also took a stand against God....
Hansel honestly isn't a bad soul, but is easily bent by vices and temptations--and has a very bad habit of getting carried away with himself (resulting in his unintentional revolt in heaven). If he possessed an inkling of good sense, he might be able to straighten himself out, but anyone who knows his tale knows that there is a better chance of Grandmother not getting eaten by the Big Bad Wolf.
Bio: To be summarized in his introductory post.
Powers:
Gadgets: None (though I may add one later)
Story: "Gambling Hansel", as recorded by the Brothers Grimm
Talents:
Theme Song: YouTube - Russell Wilson - Mack The Knife - Kurt Weill
Age: He appears to be in his early twenties.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Considering his infamous reputation as a ruffian and a gambler, Hansel's charmingly boyish face surprises even his fellow fairy-tale denizens. He scarcely seems more than twenty--even younger, when clean-shaven--and his twinkling blue eyes draw people in with their genuine appeal. The most prominent feature of Hansel's face is his wide, usually grinning mouth, housing a brilliant display of pearly-white teeth.
His face itself, while still boyish and inviting, bears the subtle signs of financial hardship: All of his bonier facial features stand out as a tad prominent, and his cheeks are covered in several weeks' worth of bristly blond stubble. Atop his head, Hansel's blond hair is messily swept back to about the nape of his neck, with a few stray pieces falling down across his forehead.
Adding to his youthful appearance is Hansel's height and build: The gambler of lore only stands at about five feet and nine inches, with slim shoulders and almost delicately thin hands. As far as garb is concerned, Gambling Hansel's wardrobe is decidedly well-stocked; most of his winnings are spent on things as frivolous as clothes. He dresses in the fashion of a nineteenth-century dandy, in fine frock coats, waistcoats, and silk cravats. Unlike the austere Victorians, however, Hansel likes to dress in more attention-grabbing colors than the typical drab black (green being his favorite color). However, it should be duly noted that he always wears the same pair of well-used leather boots; he has more than once needed to make a speedy escape.
Personality: To view Gambling Hansel as a fairy-tale hero would be a definite stretch of the term--for even "protagonist" is being generous to him. Despite all his outward charm, Hansel is lazy, uncouth, and completely willing to prey upon the trust and ignorance of others. He favors upper-class restaurants for their finery, and filthy lower-class taverns for the company offered by their patrons. While he certainly enjoys "lending a hand" to someone in need, rarely are his actions not tinged with self-interest. Hansel is a born con-man, such a slave to material wealth that there is little he will do to avoid parting with it.
However, in spite of all these rather poor character traits, there is some golden nugget of good in Hansel's soul. The lengths he will go to for money are far greater than those of most people--but they do have limits. While he wouldn't think twice about cheating a poor farmer out of his earnings, even Gambling Hansel is known to take a stand against the unjust. Then again, he also took a stand against God....
Hansel honestly isn't a bad soul, but is easily bent by vices and temptations--and has a very bad habit of getting carried away with himself (resulting in his unintentional revolt in heaven). If he possessed an inkling of good sense, he might be able to straighten himself out, but anyone who knows his tale knows that there is a better chance of Grandmother not getting eaten by the Big Bad Wolf.
Bio: To be summarized in his introductory post.
Powers:
- Luck tends to turn itself in his favor; if lightning strikes the tree he stands under, chances are that Hansel won't receive so much as a scratch from the falling tree limb.
- Having won several from Satan himself, Hansel can call upon weak devils for aid--but they just as often inflict harm on the situation.
- Hansel's dice and cards have been granted power from the Lord, and always win.
Gadgets: None (though I may add one later)
Story: "Gambling Hansel", as recorded by the Brothers Grimm
Talents:
- Hansel's charm and charisma grant him an edge in social settings.
- Even without his infallible cards and dice, Hansel is a skilled enough player to win at most games.
- He has at least familiarized himself with every sort of game that one can bet on.
- He can tend to plants remarkably well, but finds it utterly boring.
Theme Song: YouTube - Russell Wilson - Mack The Knife - Kurt Weill
WIP
Name: Anansi, The Spiderman, Mr. Nancy, Nancy, goes my many other aliases but Nancy works fine.
Age: To say extremely old would be a bit of an understatement but he’s always been young at heart and in appearance. Looks around 24, 25.
Appearance: Mischievous- looking and perhaps handsome, Anansi can change his shape and it really depends on who’s looking at him. However, he has a true material form which reflects his inner self and the society he is in. He’s moderately tall or normal, around 6’1 and his physique is skinny but much more muscular than he lets on. His dark curls are chaotic, madness showing in his olive green eyes (which are said to change colours if one stares long enough). He looks sort of impish and young, no signs of facial hair, blemishes, scars or creases of any kind showing upon his caramel-skinned face. His facial structure is a bit long which works because his defined features don’t make him look like a troll. He has prominent cheekbones, a square jaw and pointy ears.
He dons a cocoa-brown informal suit under which a white collared shit can be seen and matching dress pants. Oddly, he dons Grecian-styles sandal akin to what gladiators would wear back in the day. His head is crowned by a lime green bowler hat tilted back.
Bio:
Gods and legends and stories are born of dreams. Dreams in conjunction with the human heart have tremendous power. So much so that these dreams pass on to the real world and take form. Such was how Anansi was born. He was born in a time where stories were horded by the god of his people, and so, he took them. All stories became Anansi stories and then Anansi, who once but a clever spider, became a man. As he told his own stories and others told stories about him his power grew and grew, so much so when he was mostly forgotten, he continued to live and live.
As one of the oldest, if not the oldest storyteller, he maintained friendships with many of the famous fairy-tale writers. Or wizards, he didn’t care. Stories, novels, they’re just a different type of reality and magic. However, he wasn’t dismayed that his stories changed versions and ‘evolved’ but as stories do, they gained power and escaped into the waking world, which meant the evil did too. And so, was his duty, he helped keep them in check...
Personality: He's mischevious, he really is. He loves playing pranks and he's utterly selfish, save perhaps when it comes to family and even then some but he does have a soft-spot for those less unfortunate than him. He's very laid back with no sense of urgency and he loves to take his time chatting ot up with people.
Powers:
He is the lord of all spiders. He can communicate with them, possess their bodies, share their memories, can become a spider of varying sizes and disperse himself
Knows every story ever told. Every damn one.
Master of seduction. He can get into any fair maiden’s dress. Unless she happens to be a lesbian. Regardless, it can be very useful.
Gadgets:
Name: Anansi, The Spiderman, Mr. Nancy, Nancy, goes my many other aliases but Nancy works fine.
Age: To say extremely old would be a bit of an understatement but he’s always been young at heart and in appearance. Looks around 24, 25.
Appearance: Mischievous- looking and perhaps handsome, Anansi can change his shape and it really depends on who’s looking at him. However, he has a true material form which reflects his inner self and the society he is in. He’s moderately tall or normal, around 6’1 and his physique is skinny but much more muscular than he lets on. His dark curls are chaotic, madness showing in his olive green eyes (which are said to change colours if one stares long enough). He looks sort of impish and young, no signs of facial hair, blemishes, scars or creases of any kind showing upon his caramel-skinned face. His facial structure is a bit long which works because his defined features don’t make him look like a troll. He has prominent cheekbones, a square jaw and pointy ears.
He dons a cocoa-brown informal suit under which a white collared shit can be seen and matching dress pants. Oddly, he dons Grecian-styles sandal akin to what gladiators would wear back in the day. His head is crowned by a lime green bowler hat tilted back.
Bio:
Gods and legends and stories are born of dreams. Dreams in conjunction with the human heart have tremendous power. So much so that these dreams pass on to the real world and take form. Such was how Anansi was born. He was born in a time where stories were horded by the god of his people, and so, he took them. All stories became Anansi stories and then Anansi, who once but a clever spider, became a man. As he told his own stories and others told stories about him his power grew and grew, so much so when he was mostly forgotten, he continued to live and live.
As one of the oldest, if not the oldest storyteller, he maintained friendships with many of the famous fairy-tale writers. Or wizards, he didn’t care. Stories, novels, they’re just a different type of reality and magic. However, he wasn’t dismayed that his stories changed versions and ‘evolved’ but as stories do, they gained power and escaped into the waking world, which meant the evil did too. And so, was his duty, he helped keep them in check...
Personality: He's mischevious, he really is. He loves playing pranks and he's utterly selfish, save perhaps when it comes to family and even then some but he does have a soft-spot for those less unfortunate than him. He's very laid back with no sense of urgency and he loves to take his time chatting ot up with people.
Powers:
He is the lord of all spiders. He can communicate with them, possess their bodies, share their memories, can become a spider of varying sizes and disperse himself
Knows every story ever told. Every damn one.
Master of seduction. He can get into any fair maiden’s dress. Unless she happens to be a lesbian. Regardless, it can be very useful.
Gadgets:
Last edited:
LoC. I'm terribly sorry, but I'm not gonna be able to participate in this one. My Apologies.
It's all good. To anyone else, I'll be making the opening post TOMORROW.
Be ready then.
Be ready then.
- Joined
- Aug 4, 2005
- Messages
- 3,041
- Age
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- Location
- In the place of prayer...
- Website
- www.facebook.com
Cheers people; let's make this a grand Roleplay.
Name: Charlie “Chicken” Little
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Appearance: Charlie is a thin figure. Standing a little less than 5’10” he doesn’t present much of an imposing figure. His face is pale and gaunt, like it hasn’t seen the light of day in many years. He is often slightly hunched over, as if a constant weight is pressing on his back. His fingers are long and spindly and his sharp face holds a head of tussled brown hair, which he often pushes back behind his ears in constant nervousness. His eyes are speckled gray, like the clouds of an overcast day before the storm. He is often dressed in shabby black suits, just slightly out of fashion, with a dark black cane that never leads his side. He looks much older than he actually is.
Personality: Charlie is a nervous wreck. Whenever he leaves the house, he is constantly glancing around. Constantly worried, constantly paranoid, Charlie is known for a slight twitch that manifests itself in different body parts depending on the setting. He speaks hurriedly and quietly; as if he’s worried there every word he speaks is costing him his life. Psychologists theorize some that he has some onset of schizophrenia or Aspberger’s syndrome. He often won’t leave the house, having a plethora of phobias that run through his mind. The only thing that seems to calm him, is mechanical tinkering. The constant attention drawn by machine clockwork and mechanical labor seems to temporarily distract him. Yet, despite all of these psychological fallbacks, he does possess a strong desire to be a hero, which often is the only thing that drives him from his small house in foggy London town.
Bio: Charlie was a bizarre child. In his early years, he was plagued by the smallest of fears. Even as he grew older, nothing seemed to shake the sense of unease that he developed. The kids on the playground quickly became aware of his weirdness and laughed and teased him to no end. They deemed him ‘Chicken’ for his constant irrational fear. His parents were concerned, incredibly aware that their child was abnormally distraught with his seemingly normal life. They would bring him to the park, they would bring him to various London carnivals, anything to try and put a smile on his face. However, the only thing that seemed to give him temporary relief was a little tinkering with simple clockwork toys.
One fateful day, when Charlie was 11, he was sitting underneath a tree in the park. His parents were sitting on a bench nearby, enjoying the beautifully normal day. The next thing they know, there’s a sudden scream. His parents came running as young Charlie stood screaming, staring at the heavens, gray eyes opened as wide as the gates of Hell as he shrieked out a single phrase.
“THE SKY IS FALLING!”
His parents took him own, quickly getting him out of the park as he continued to scream this one single phrase. He screamed, and screamed, even as his larynx blew out and his vocal chords grew hoarse, he still did not stop. His parents eventually had to call in a doctor, who drugged him and forced him to sleep… When Charlie awoke, he finally stopped screaming. His parents tried to blow the event over, but everyone in the park at heard. Other parents were angry with Charlie, who had upset a lot of their kids with his screaming that day. That anger translated to Charlie, who from the moment he went back to school, was treated as an ostracized exile. He was the crazy now, the weirdo. “Chicken Little.”
Charlie retained his trademark sense of unease, but it began to get even worse. He began to get paranoid, constantly suspecting students of playing pranks on him or talking about him behind his back. When he was 15, he wildly proclaimed his teacher was going to fail him for simply being weird. When he was 17, he shouted in the hallways of his school about how none of them were going to do anything special in life. His outbursts grew rowdier and more disturbing, until finally, when he turned 18, his tearful parents were confronted by the school board. Charlie needed help.
Charlie was consulted by all kinds of psychiatrists. Psychoanalyzing Freud-wannabe’s all stuck there tools in him and asked him their questions. “Aspberger’s” some said, with a definitive nod. “He’s a schitzo” claimed others defiantly. What was clear was this: Charlie Little could not function in normal society. Deemed unable to rightfully think for himself, Charlie was placed under the care of the state, who agreed with the government’s request to keep him in psychiatric care. Charlie Little was 18 when he was sent to the asylum…
Charlie spent 10, long years in the asylum. He was subjected to all kinds of psychiatric prodding- electroshock therapy, steam therapy, constant questioning and analyzing. Yet all it seemed to do was increase his paranoia. Nothing could alleviate the sense of foreboding that overwhelmed his body. Often, he would simply lie in solitary, quiet, shaking, eyes ablaze with the sense that something terrible was going to happen. He would shout to the guards, most of the things nonsensical. To the London government, it was official. Charlie Little was just another unfortunate crazy.
On year 11 of Charlie’s incarceration, something big happened. In an event known as the Grubmah Disaster, an entire fleet of zeppelins exploded over London. Thousands of people died in an instant, and the fiery wreckage of the fleet descended on London in the worst accident in a hundred years. The people cried. The government shook its head in sorrow. A famous photograph of the fiery heavens was spread across all the newspapers, with a single caption beneath it:
“The sky is falling- and London looks on in terror.”
No one drew the connection between this huge disaster and one little freakout in a park over 15 years ago. No one besides the great wizard Aesop that is… Aesop knew the anthromorphized tale of Chicken Little had been adapted from a real event. His own spellweaving with animals had led him to research as much. He began to dig deeper, going through archives and his own records, until he found a small news article describing the embarrassment of that particular day. His old eyes widened in interest. This was an interesting tale to be sure…
Using his few connections, and a bit of magical influence here and there, the great wizard Aesop began to observe Charlie from within his cell. He recorded all of Charlie’s outbursts and ranting, taking special note of any seemingly random tirade he would go on. Another year went by. Of those 365 days, Charlie made about 278 outbursts. Aesop was able to confirm 139 actual occurrences, within that year alone. Aesop was convinced. He managed to secure Charlie an early release, purchased a small house, and prepared to greet him and explain what he thought was occurring.
Unfortunately, Aesop died mysteriously after securing Charlie’s release. Most who did not know him, suspected age. Others that knew the wizard, suspected much more sinister means.
Charlie Little now lives alone, in this prepaid, small house. All he has, is a single letter from Aesop, informing him of few key things, about himself and what he suspects might happen. Little does Little know how much London will need of him…
Powers: Prophecy- Charlie Little, unbeknownst to most and still relatively not understood by himself, has the gift of prophecy. He can see visions that express the immediate and far future. He unfortunately, does not have very good control over this ability, and it often manifests in very sporadic ways and at very inconvenient times. He has not yet learned how to control what he focuses these visions on, but since receiving Aesop’s letter, he has been trying to gain more control over his ability. Aesop theorized that his gift of prophecy is what results in his constant paranoia- it is simply his body’s reaction to the near-constant sensing of future danger. The paranoia is not entirely unfounded; Charlie Little possesses quick reflexes and an uncanny sense for danger, not unlike that of animals who can sense storms or predators.
Gadgets: Due to his paranoia, Charlie always carries a small flint-lock revolver with him. It fires a simple six rounds, but he mainly keeps it unloaded, to ease his mind.
Due to his aptitude for mechanical tinkering, Charlie has devised a multitude of steam/clockwork devices. These are mostly scattered around his small house, and very few are of any practical value. He does carry a home-made, telescopic spyglass with him at all times, and his cane can extend into a bo-type staff weapon (often times it does more harm than good).
Story: Chicken Little
Talents: Charlie has a good intuition for mechanical tinkering. He can fix many basic clockwork and steam-based appliances as well as being able to understand how much of modern, London technology functions. He is an amateur inventor, often creating menial and non-practical devices to occupy his mind and distract him from his constant paranoia.
While not trained in any form of fighting, Charlie’s instinct for self-preservation and his unconscious prophetic reflexes, allow him to defend himself in a very haphazard manner. He is currently trying to train himself to utilize this more, but his fear makes any type of aggressive training less than productive.
Theme Song: (I'll try to think of one)
Name: Charlie “Chicken” Little
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Appearance: Charlie is a thin figure. Standing a little less than 5’10” he doesn’t present much of an imposing figure. His face is pale and gaunt, like it hasn’t seen the light of day in many years. He is often slightly hunched over, as if a constant weight is pressing on his back. His fingers are long and spindly and his sharp face holds a head of tussled brown hair, which he often pushes back behind his ears in constant nervousness. His eyes are speckled gray, like the clouds of an overcast day before the storm. He is often dressed in shabby black suits, just slightly out of fashion, with a dark black cane that never leads his side. He looks much older than he actually is.
Personality: Charlie is a nervous wreck. Whenever he leaves the house, he is constantly glancing around. Constantly worried, constantly paranoid, Charlie is known for a slight twitch that manifests itself in different body parts depending on the setting. He speaks hurriedly and quietly; as if he’s worried there every word he speaks is costing him his life. Psychologists theorize some that he has some onset of schizophrenia or Aspberger’s syndrome. He often won’t leave the house, having a plethora of phobias that run through his mind. The only thing that seems to calm him, is mechanical tinkering. The constant attention drawn by machine clockwork and mechanical labor seems to temporarily distract him. Yet, despite all of these psychological fallbacks, he does possess a strong desire to be a hero, which often is the only thing that drives him from his small house in foggy London town.
Bio: Charlie was a bizarre child. In his early years, he was plagued by the smallest of fears. Even as he grew older, nothing seemed to shake the sense of unease that he developed. The kids on the playground quickly became aware of his weirdness and laughed and teased him to no end. They deemed him ‘Chicken’ for his constant irrational fear. His parents were concerned, incredibly aware that their child was abnormally distraught with his seemingly normal life. They would bring him to the park, they would bring him to various London carnivals, anything to try and put a smile on his face. However, the only thing that seemed to give him temporary relief was a little tinkering with simple clockwork toys.
One fateful day, when Charlie was 11, he was sitting underneath a tree in the park. His parents were sitting on a bench nearby, enjoying the beautifully normal day. The next thing they know, there’s a sudden scream. His parents came running as young Charlie stood screaming, staring at the heavens, gray eyes opened as wide as the gates of Hell as he shrieked out a single phrase.
“THE SKY IS FALLING!”
His parents took him own, quickly getting him out of the park as he continued to scream this one single phrase. He screamed, and screamed, even as his larynx blew out and his vocal chords grew hoarse, he still did not stop. His parents eventually had to call in a doctor, who drugged him and forced him to sleep… When Charlie awoke, he finally stopped screaming. His parents tried to blow the event over, but everyone in the park at heard. Other parents were angry with Charlie, who had upset a lot of their kids with his screaming that day. That anger translated to Charlie, who from the moment he went back to school, was treated as an ostracized exile. He was the crazy now, the weirdo. “Chicken Little.”
Charlie retained his trademark sense of unease, but it began to get even worse. He began to get paranoid, constantly suspecting students of playing pranks on him or talking about him behind his back. When he was 15, he wildly proclaimed his teacher was going to fail him for simply being weird. When he was 17, he shouted in the hallways of his school about how none of them were going to do anything special in life. His outbursts grew rowdier and more disturbing, until finally, when he turned 18, his tearful parents were confronted by the school board. Charlie needed help.
Charlie was consulted by all kinds of psychiatrists. Psychoanalyzing Freud-wannabe’s all stuck there tools in him and asked him their questions. “Aspberger’s” some said, with a definitive nod. “He’s a schitzo” claimed others defiantly. What was clear was this: Charlie Little could not function in normal society. Deemed unable to rightfully think for himself, Charlie was placed under the care of the state, who agreed with the government’s request to keep him in psychiatric care. Charlie Little was 18 when he was sent to the asylum…
Charlie spent 10, long years in the asylum. He was subjected to all kinds of psychiatric prodding- electroshock therapy, steam therapy, constant questioning and analyzing. Yet all it seemed to do was increase his paranoia. Nothing could alleviate the sense of foreboding that overwhelmed his body. Often, he would simply lie in solitary, quiet, shaking, eyes ablaze with the sense that something terrible was going to happen. He would shout to the guards, most of the things nonsensical. To the London government, it was official. Charlie Little was just another unfortunate crazy.
On year 11 of Charlie’s incarceration, something big happened. In an event known as the Grubmah Disaster, an entire fleet of zeppelins exploded over London. Thousands of people died in an instant, and the fiery wreckage of the fleet descended on London in the worst accident in a hundred years. The people cried. The government shook its head in sorrow. A famous photograph of the fiery heavens was spread across all the newspapers, with a single caption beneath it:
“The sky is falling- and London looks on in terror.”
No one drew the connection between this huge disaster and one little freakout in a park over 15 years ago. No one besides the great wizard Aesop that is… Aesop knew the anthromorphized tale of Chicken Little had been adapted from a real event. His own spellweaving with animals had led him to research as much. He began to dig deeper, going through archives and his own records, until he found a small news article describing the embarrassment of that particular day. His old eyes widened in interest. This was an interesting tale to be sure…
Using his few connections, and a bit of magical influence here and there, the great wizard Aesop began to observe Charlie from within his cell. He recorded all of Charlie’s outbursts and ranting, taking special note of any seemingly random tirade he would go on. Another year went by. Of those 365 days, Charlie made about 278 outbursts. Aesop was able to confirm 139 actual occurrences, within that year alone. Aesop was convinced. He managed to secure Charlie an early release, purchased a small house, and prepared to greet him and explain what he thought was occurring.
Unfortunately, Aesop died mysteriously after securing Charlie’s release. Most who did not know him, suspected age. Others that knew the wizard, suspected much more sinister means.
Charlie Little now lives alone, in this prepaid, small house. All he has, is a single letter from Aesop, informing him of few key things, about himself and what he suspects might happen. Little does Little know how much London will need of him…
Powers: Prophecy- Charlie Little, unbeknownst to most and still relatively not understood by himself, has the gift of prophecy. He can see visions that express the immediate and far future. He unfortunately, does not have very good control over this ability, and it often manifests in very sporadic ways and at very inconvenient times. He has not yet learned how to control what he focuses these visions on, but since receiving Aesop’s letter, he has been trying to gain more control over his ability. Aesop theorized that his gift of prophecy is what results in his constant paranoia- it is simply his body’s reaction to the near-constant sensing of future danger. The paranoia is not entirely unfounded; Charlie Little possesses quick reflexes and an uncanny sense for danger, not unlike that of animals who can sense storms or predators.
Gadgets: Due to his paranoia, Charlie always carries a small flint-lock revolver with him. It fires a simple six rounds, but he mainly keeps it unloaded, to ease his mind.
Due to his aptitude for mechanical tinkering, Charlie has devised a multitude of steam/clockwork devices. These are mostly scattered around his small house, and very few are of any practical value. He does carry a home-made, telescopic spyglass with him at all times, and his cane can extend into a bo-type staff weapon (often times it does more harm than good).
Story: Chicken Little
Talents: Charlie has a good intuition for mechanical tinkering. He can fix many basic clockwork and steam-based appliances as well as being able to understand how much of modern, London technology functions. He is an amateur inventor, often creating menial and non-practical devices to occupy his mind and distract him from his constant paranoia.
While not trained in any form of fighting, Charlie’s instinct for self-preservation and his unconscious prophetic reflexes, allow him to defend himself in a very haphazard manner. He is currently trying to train himself to utilize this more, but his fear makes any type of aggressive training less than productive.
Theme Song: (I'll try to think of one)
The Role-Play is up: http://forums.khinsider.com/original-roleplays/161177-fabled-escape-chapter-eins.html#post5509069
You're allowed to take control of Hans Christian Anderson for any kind of introductory purposes. Get to posting and let's have fun!
PS--I apologize for the lateness of this. Been busy.
You're allowed to take control of Hans Christian Anderson for any kind of introductory purposes. Get to posting and let's have fun!
PS--I apologize for the lateness of this. Been busy.
Then she would be contracted to be there. Regardless of who you are, if you're a "good guy/girl" then you're at the Bookstore.
- Joined
- May 4, 2005
- Messages
- 1,615
- Awards
- 6
- Age
- 35
- Location
- A world that never was
- Website
- www.freewebs.com
I'll put up a template for my character, E.T.A. Hoffmann, as soon as I am able, but after speaking to Lord of Chaos I took the liberty of entering him directly into the roleplay and provided at least some basic introduction there.
- Joined
- May 4, 2005
- Messages
- 1,615
- Awards
- 6
- Age
- 35
- Location
- A world that never was
- Website
- www.freewebs.com
The pleasure's mine. I've been looking forward to the opportunity of playing another roleplay opposite of you.Ordeith said:
Apologies for the over-long Bio/Personality of my character. If you want the summarized version, see the endnote to my first post in the roleplay. If you want to know the full story, read on.
Name: E.T.A. Hoffmann.
E. T. A. stands for Ernst Theodor Amadeus. "Amadeus" was self-adopted from the composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart; Hoffman's birth name is actually Ernst Theodor Wilhelm.
Age: see below
Gender: male
Bio/Pers: E.T.A. Hoffmann was born in Konigsburg, Prussia, and died just 46 years later in Berlin, Prussia, never having left the country. He was an author of märchen, fairy-tales and fantasies. And for the majority of those who knew him or knew of him, this was his entire history. Born 1776 - Died 1822.
For those who knew him as a story-weaver, or wizard, however, his history extends much further. Ernst Theodor Hoffmann was perhaps the first true German story-weaver, and he was invaluable in taming the strange and haunted realms of that still-wild land. His tales captured the shadowy and ambiguous boundaries between real and unreal, and the beings that inhabited those grey realms--automatons, ghosts, and golems. Going further, he delved into the recesses of human imagination and exposed the demons that haunt our minds and the strange in the human soul. These were the contents of the stories he weaved.
He observed, however, that all of this was not without consequence. As he captured these diverse spirits in his Strange Tales, the world he had been tasked with protecting began to grow lifeless and dim. Magic and living things were replaced with gears and clockwork mechanisms. People's lives became prosaic and dull, and even their imaginations grew more and more impoverished. Something was being lost in the process, something invaluable to human life was being shut away in these fairy-stories. Hoffmann resolved to discover what that was, and how it might be restored to humanity.
To do this, Hoffmann entered into the perilous world of Faerie, a world he himself had helped to seal away. He wrote himself as a character into his own stories. What he found there shattered him. Not only was the world of faerie far larger, and far greater, than he had ever dared suspect, but it seemed to grow upon itself, beyond the intentions and constraints of the story-weavers who had begun its separate existence. Stories begot stories, and Hoffmann witnessed the birth of many strange things both fair and foul. Some creative principle seemed lodged here, some sublime force surrendered from our own world. Hoffmann believed himself in the presence of the infinite.
But a finite human being cannot confront the infinite and remain unchanged. Slowly at first, then more and more rapidly, Hoffmann's material body wasted away from his prolonged exposure to the fantastic world and the divine or diabolic forces it contained. Doctors from this world were perplexed and ascribed his deterioration to alcohol abuse or syphilis. On June 25 of 1822, Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann died.
For those who knew him beyond the confines of the material world, however, his history goes on. When E.T.A. Hoffmann died, a great many of the strange beings he had put into story escaped back into the other world--witches, automatons, and other beings, most terrifyingly the Sandman, Coppelius. But he had left something of himself in these stories as well. Hoffmann, the character of his own stories, also emerged from the dissolving power of these tales, alike as to the original that one would believe he had sprung fresh from the grave. But this was not the same person who had once written a part of Faerie; he was entirely a product of that world, and indeed bore this material world only with some difficulty. Perhaps the closest description of his condition is that of the doppelgänger. He was at once the soul and the image of the man who had created him.
This E.T.A. Hoffmann has continued in his fascination of fairy-tales and what they contain that our world lacks. He is aware, perhaps more than the original, of the perils of this fantastic realm, but he is also convinced of its absolute necessity to the continuation of the material world. To this end, he will wander both, following his directives as word-weaver but also studying the nature of these beings he is now a part of.
Appearance: As observed by a young Hans Christian Anderson shortly before Hoffmann's death, the latter has a broad forehead, a gently curving nose, and long chin with a small, involuntary smile caused by the play of the muscles in his cheeks. This is the form most see his doppelganger in. His style of dress is rather outmoded, and he wears an embroidered vest with long tails and black velvet breeches. A small, silver epée hangs at his side. All of this is usually covered up by a bulky and somewhat shabby overcoat that he wears buttoned except when he wants to announce his presence.
Powers: Hoffmann was an accomplished story-weaver in his life; one of the best in Germany's short but impressive history of them. His soul has lost some of its potency since his body departed from the material world, but his knowledge of the art is second to none.
As an immaterial spirit, the material world weighs down upon his existence and occasionally drives him to distraction. However, when he concentrates he can still exert some power over it, and is possessed of greater strength and speed than the common man, if only when need be.
Gadgets: Possibly to be detailed later.
Story: Browse By Author: H - Project Gutenberg
Talents: Hoffmann, before he was ever a story-weaver, lived as a composer, and it is questionable whether he ever saw himself as anything but. His stories are weaved of musical motifs and the synesthetic experience of sound; as he searched deeper and deeper into the fairy-tales he himself had helped write, he became convinced that music was the one way to restore to mankind that which they had lost. He is a talented composer and player of music, and seems almost to draw the music out of the material world around him.
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Alright, I've done my part--written a ridiculously long template, written a much more reasonable first post, and left it with a painfully obvious cliffhanger line. Somebody else post now.
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Very nice, I'm glad we have another great character. NOW SOMEBODY POST
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I just realized my template for E.T.A. Hoffmann sounds a lot like Ansem from Kingdom Hearts. A brilliant wizard/scientist carries out research essential to his world and seemingly for benign purposes, but becomes aware of the danger of his studies and exposes himself to its corrosive effects as he delves ever further into them. Eventually he is destroyed by his work and replaced by his created double of questionable intentions.
This was not intentional, but that game doesn't do a half-bad job for character templates.
Also, somebody post. I'll be gone for two weeks after this coming one and unable to participate during that time.
This was not intentional, but that game doesn't do a half-bad job for character templates.
Also, somebody post. I'll be gone for two weeks after this coming one and unable to participate during that time.
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