Name: Patricia Garfien
Age: 37
Equipment: Backpack :Surgical bag, hatchet, (Speed loader) ,whiskey flask (2), rosary, glasses, Firebomb, lighter (full), Glasses case
HP: 7
Stats:
Int: 9
Str: 11
Agi: 10
Skills: General Medic(3), Small Arms (3), Shotgun (2), Sub-machine gun (2)
Advantages: She has steady hands, and is very calm in high stress situations. This can be a lifesaver in the field.
Disadvantages: Territorial about her work, needs glasses/contacts(farsighted), and a functional alcoholic.
Perks: Excellent bedside manner.
Quirks: Racist. Yep. Against EVERYONE. Not to the point where she dislikes them, just the point where she believes just about every stereotype there is. Curiously enough, not religious, or homophobic, or sexist. I can change this if it might cause problems.
Bio: Patricia grew up in southern Texaz, raised by two rich white parents who fit every stereotype of rich white people there was, or almost. They did love their daughter, but they were also assholes to most people below their station. When she became a surgeon in college, they were delighted to see their little girl take up such a proud profession. When the chupacabras started striking, she managed to save her brother's life, barely, but had to run, and he was left behind. She rode a horse for hours, eventually letting the poor thing rest, where she was taken in by some kind colored people. Long story short, she ended up joining the Archangel foundation, to help keep the fighting men alive. That said, being a Texan, she's not bad with a pistol either...
You hand the gun to Goldman as you begin your fire bomb, taking supplies from your medical bag. You tell the team what you are doing, and they assist you in making the fire bomb. "I don't know how good it will be..." Goldman stated, "It is a fragmentation grenade. It would be unlikely to get your intended result." he started, though he did help get supplies.
You take out a bandage from your medical bag, soak it and whiskey and wrap it around the grenade. The twins had gathered up some of the enemies unspent bullets, removing the gunpowder from them to add to your bomb as the time ticks. Charlie uses his knowledge and equipment to assist you as well, making it in a package that is a good deal heavier then the normal grenade, but will probably do more damage.
Is there anything else you want to do before the fight?
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Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, Ares Shrike, 192 5.56 rounds (Loaded).
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.
But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.
But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.
Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel
You remove the pack from the pocket on your chest, crushing apart the cardboard as you rub it over your body as if it was sunscreen. You rub it all over your body, your arms going far under your uniform to get every inch, giving your body a greasy coat. From your arms to your toes, a slight itching sensation followed the salve. There was a lot more in the pack then meats the eye, you feel that you are wearing even more then the original Werewolves had.
Suddenly, your chest filled with an interesting sensation, like that medicine you used as a child. Your body starts to fill with fire, at first you think it is adrenaline, though it is a thousand times stronger. Every muscle in your body flexes, twitching as they begin to bulge. Your uniform rips in several places, your muscles simply breaking through them. Your head filled with rage, multiplied a dozen times from whatever you felt before, as your head begins to burn as if in intense anger. You give out a deep scream, turning into a half roar.
Your eyes blur as they fill with the burning sensation, swiftly focusing in like binoculars. It swiftly returns to your normal sight, then continues further. The dark subway station becomes as bright as day, your hearing picks up that you can still hear the tapping of the spiders, echoing down the hallway. Perhaps more importantly, you see the world as it truly is. Looking at "Tommy's" corpse, all you see is a pile of webs. Almost like a child's mummy doll, white silk rapped to look like a human. Looking at the spider's corpse shows a similar puppet, a pile of silk masquerading as a body. High above on the ceiling, two spiders tapped around, thin pieces if silk coming down from their joints and hands. Puppet masters, deceptive puppet masters. You can not see Tommy, but he apparently was not here. Your vision quickly changes, from a bright picture to a tunnel, only able to see the spiders.
During this whole transformation, a strange voice echos through your head as if it was your own voice. Insane laughter, genuinely ecstatic, starts, getting even stronger then your own thoughts, a happy and insane "AHHAHAHHA AAAAAAAHHHHAAAHAH!", stopping to giggle out a "Like a moth to a flame! AHAHAHAH!". It was the voice of a young man, somewhat high pitched. "For they speak against thee wickedly, and thine enemies take thy name in vain! Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate thee? and am not I grieved with those that rise up against thee?
I hate them with perfect hatred: I count them mine enemies.Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts: And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." It continued, in a completely giggly way, between juts of laughter. After your transformation completes itself, the voice dulls, the laughter continuing to echo through the back of your mind.
What do you do now?
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[I think BAD END has been achieved for Alec. At least in his mind from what he perceives. Ah well, time for the roaring rampage of death to the spiders now, this was the kind of moment I was saving the salve for. Well, not exactly, the plan was more of a "use the salve, save the world team" kind of instance, not a "friend dead because of self, time to go rampaging on the enemies." Poor Tommy, he was my favorite of the team.]
Ah, you finally used it. To be honest, I thought you would use it on something more physical, here your just losing a mind game.
Now would be a good time to go over superhuman combat. I am thinking about adding some different rules for it, probably adding some elements from Feng Sui. Just do the awsomest thing you can think of, keeping in mind your new superhuman strength, and Ill figure out the dice.
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Topic: Operation Archangel- Modern Role Playing Game *Accepting New Members...Still* (Read 28213 times)