Name: Chase Montgomery (Generally just Chase.)
Age: 28
Race: Generic, Human.
Sex: Male.
Starting Planet: Earth.
Profession: Accountant.
Fighting Style: Efficient, tactical, doesn't take risks unless absolutely necessary.
Short Bio:
As a child, Chase was unremarkable, had simple, average parents, and looked no different from other children. Growing up into his teen years, he began to feel passive, feeling his emotions slip away from him. Concerned, he asked his friends for help, who brought him to many parties and social opportunities.
He tried to socialise, but in the end he generally got cast out and marginalised. At times, he started showing off his unique abilities, which quickly made him popular, at which point his friends scolded him as they remained unpopular. This caused him to generally alternate between showing off and remaining isolated from everyone else. In all his time alone at home, which he'd previously spent either causing himself pain in order to feel guilt, an emotion he so craved, he trained hard, ending up with unique ways of showing off, and even superhuman abilities.
At around 18 years old, he felt himself completely void of emotion, and his attempt to restore it always failed, consequently leaving him with an obsession for efficiency. His friends kept reminding him that he had never had a girlfriend, nor did he show a desire for one, and frequently asked about whether he was homosexual. Chase dreaded the thought of being such a man, because it was incredibly inefficient to not be able to leave one's genes in the gene pool.
Further growing up, he fell out with most of his closer friends by the age of 21, and he could neither apologise nor make up with them, because 'afterwards the relationship would have been strained; the most efficient thing to do is to end it immediately.'
Just weeks after he turned 25, his mother succumbs to a disease, making him return hurriedly back to his home town. Still showing no sign of emotion, he attends the funeral, after which he brings his father back with him to a bigger city, giving him an apartment and whatever he needs, and selling their old house. His reasoning for this was that he had to give his thanks to his dad for bringing him up, while at the same time, staying efficient.
General Description:
Chase is rather tall, 6'5”, with a rather muscular body, but not enough to be threatening. He generally wears some plain black pants, a blue T-shirt, untucked, with a white, also untucked, shirt over it. Alternatively, he also can be seen wearing black pants, a white, tucked in, shirt, and a black vest on top of that. He almost always has a bandaid on his nose, and sports rather short gray hair.
Starting Abilities: Combat Teleportation and Ki Sense
Trait: Efficient
Stats:
Role-play Sample:
A birth, a birthmark, a birthright, a bitter destiny.
“Enter.”
The room focused into view. A small table, two chairs, and one tall, pale figure populated the area. Slowly drifting through the open door and swiftly landing on one of the chair, a small figure sat ratting its fingers on the table.
“Another false alarm, old man?” the slender, squatty spook slithered.
The tall man stood upright, chest puffed out, and shook his head. For a split second, extreme joy could be seen on the old man’s face, but the expression quickly returned to a pale, neutral smile. Spinning on the heel of his shoe before the shade could react, the man inhaled deeply.
“As the Book of Kos says, after Creation, the cruel god Moloch rebelled against the authority of Marduk the Creator.” the old man breathlessly (and tonelessly) spat out the first words before a loud thump and a shriek could be heard from behind him. Wincing slightly, he resumed. “Moloch stole from Marduk the most powerful of all the artifacts of the gods, the Amulet of Yendor, and he hid it in the dark cavities of Gehennom, the Underworld, where he now lurks, and bides hi-“
The man stepped aside in terror just as the knife entered the wood of the wall next to him.
“STOP repeating that story every damn time, you broken old cot. I’ll bet it’s just another bloody false alarm, like the last hundred times.” the shade shrieked, banging its fist on the table in anger.
A few moments of silence passed before the spook sighed sourly. “Fine, go ahead, but this is the last time.”
The terrorized expression on the old man’s face instantly melted back into the neutral smile he formerly had, and he quickly turned back to not face the figure. “Right, we’ve been over this before. Our god, Kos, wants the Amulet back, in order to ascend past being a normal god. Since your birth, you have been discovered as an Instrument. But you know that already.. “ the man sighed. “You’re destined to recover the Amulet when the Dungeons of Doom open their doors to our town, or die in the attempt.”
Letting out a long-winded snarl, the figure removed its hood, and slowly but surely, the sotty clothing revealed a tender young woman. Red locks curling loosely at the ends framed her gentle features. Certainly, she was no ordinary beauty, and one would wonder why she was wearing such dark and dirty disguises. “We’ve been over this many times, old man. I believe in our god wholeheartedly, but I doubt I am the true Instrument. Until the dungeons are open, nothing can be done, so why are you worrying?”
A few seconds of silence streamed by, causing a certain sensitivity in the girl’s extremities. Surely, there was no reason for him to be worrying…was there?
The old, pale man slowly turned, revealing a crying figure similar to that of a mourning father. Tears trod down his cheeks as he clutched the wall stumbling.
“The time…has come, Kelle.”
Even in the middle of the town, the neighborhood containing said family shook with screams of sadness and tears of terror for the whole night.
Please and thanks.
Age: 28
Race: Generic, Human.
Sex: Male.
Starting Planet: Earth.
Profession: Accountant.
Fighting Style: Efficient, tactical, doesn't take risks unless absolutely necessary.
Short Bio:
As a child, Chase was unremarkable, had simple, average parents, and looked no different from other children. Growing up into his teen years, he began to feel passive, feeling his emotions slip away from him. Concerned, he asked his friends for help, who brought him to many parties and social opportunities.
He tried to socialise, but in the end he generally got cast out and marginalised. At times, he started showing off his unique abilities, which quickly made him popular, at which point his friends scolded him as they remained unpopular. This caused him to generally alternate between showing off and remaining isolated from everyone else. In all his time alone at home, which he'd previously spent either causing himself pain in order to feel guilt, an emotion he so craved, he trained hard, ending up with unique ways of showing off, and even superhuman abilities.
At around 18 years old, he felt himself completely void of emotion, and his attempt to restore it always failed, consequently leaving him with an obsession for efficiency. His friends kept reminding him that he had never had a girlfriend, nor did he show a desire for one, and frequently asked about whether he was homosexual. Chase dreaded the thought of being such a man, because it was incredibly inefficient to not be able to leave one's genes in the gene pool.
Further growing up, he fell out with most of his closer friends by the age of 21, and he could neither apologise nor make up with them, because 'afterwards the relationship would have been strained; the most efficient thing to do is to end it immediately.'
Just weeks after he turned 25, his mother succumbs to a disease, making him return hurriedly back to his home town. Still showing no sign of emotion, he attends the funeral, after which he brings his father back with him to a bigger city, giving him an apartment and whatever he needs, and selling their old house. His reasoning for this was that he had to give his thanks to his dad for bringing him up, while at the same time, staying efficient.
General Description:
Chase is rather tall, 6'5”, with a rather muscular body, but not enough to be threatening. He generally wears some plain black pants, a blue T-shirt, untucked, with a white, also untucked, shirt over it. Alternatively, he also can be seen wearing black pants, a white, tucked in, shirt, and a black vest on top of that. He almost always has a bandaid on his nose, and sports rather short gray hair.
Starting Abilities: Combat Teleportation and Ki Sense
Trait: Efficient
Stats:
- Strength - 40%
- Focus - 10%
- Endurance - 15%
- Agility - 35%
Role-play Sample:
A birth, a birthmark, a birthright, a bitter destiny.
“Enter.”
The room focused into view. A small table, two chairs, and one tall, pale figure populated the area. Slowly drifting through the open door and swiftly landing on one of the chair, a small figure sat ratting its fingers on the table.
“Another false alarm, old man?” the slender, squatty spook slithered.
The tall man stood upright, chest puffed out, and shook his head. For a split second, extreme joy could be seen on the old man’s face, but the expression quickly returned to a pale, neutral smile. Spinning on the heel of his shoe before the shade could react, the man inhaled deeply.
“As the Book of Kos says, after Creation, the cruel god Moloch rebelled against the authority of Marduk the Creator.” the old man breathlessly (and tonelessly) spat out the first words before a loud thump and a shriek could be heard from behind him. Wincing slightly, he resumed. “Moloch stole from Marduk the most powerful of all the artifacts of the gods, the Amulet of Yendor, and he hid it in the dark cavities of Gehennom, the Underworld, where he now lurks, and bides hi-“
The man stepped aside in terror just as the knife entered the wood of the wall next to him.
“STOP repeating that story every damn time, you broken old cot. I’ll bet it’s just another bloody false alarm, like the last hundred times.” the shade shrieked, banging its fist on the table in anger.
A few moments of silence passed before the spook sighed sourly. “Fine, go ahead, but this is the last time.”
The terrorized expression on the old man’s face instantly melted back into the neutral smile he formerly had, and he quickly turned back to not face the figure. “Right, we’ve been over this before. Our god, Kos, wants the Amulet back, in order to ascend past being a normal god. Since your birth, you have been discovered as an Instrument. But you know that already.. “ the man sighed. “You’re destined to recover the Amulet when the Dungeons of Doom open their doors to our town, or die in the attempt.”
Letting out a long-winded snarl, the figure removed its hood, and slowly but surely, the sotty clothing revealed a tender young woman. Red locks curling loosely at the ends framed her gentle features. Certainly, she was no ordinary beauty, and one would wonder why she was wearing such dark and dirty disguises. “We’ve been over this many times, old man. I believe in our god wholeheartedly, but I doubt I am the true Instrument. Until the dungeons are open, nothing can be done, so why are you worrying?”
A few seconds of silence streamed by, causing a certain sensitivity in the girl’s extremities. Surely, there was no reason for him to be worrying…was there?
The old, pale man slowly turned, revealing a crying figure similar to that of a mourning father. Tears trod down his cheeks as he clutched the wall stumbling.
“The time…has come, Kelle.”
Even in the middle of the town, the neighborhood containing said family shook with screams of sadness and tears of terror for the whole night.
Please and thanks.
![[Image: Viper-Adjusted-Mini-Sig.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v308/OBLCDiomedes/Viper-Adjusted-Mini-Sig.png)
![[Image: Trixie-Mini-Sig-Fixed.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v308/OBLCDiomedes/Recent%20Signatures/Trixie-Mini-Sig-Fixed.png)