Post by Nightfall on Mar 24, 2012 3:26:43 GMT -5
HERB RICHARDSON
-- INFORMATION
[/size]MIDDLE NAME: -none-
LAST NAME: Richardson
NICKNAMES: -heaven forbid-
SPECIES: Heartbreaker
ORIENTATION: Straight
RELIGION: Agnostic
GENDER: Male
BIRTHPLACE: New Orleans
BIRTHDAY: 3rd January 1993 (veracity unknown)
AGE: 19 (same)
MEMBER GROUP: Members. Like, ordinary members.
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-- APPEARANCE
[/size]HAIR COLOR: Black
HEIGHT: 1 metre 71 centimetres
WEIGHT: 56 kilograms
DISTINCTIVE MARKINGS: A small mole under his left eye
SCARS: -none-
TATTOOS: -none-
PIERCINGS: -none-
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-- PERSONALITY
[/size]And Herb is just the sort of person to recognise when the opportunity arises to work his forte.
LIKES: Being left alone, doing research, being seen as respectable and competent
DISLIKES: Working with people, noise, the smell of food
HOBBIES: Reading research papers, taking solitary strolls, listening to classical music
FEARS: Revealing his weaknesses, losing control of himself, trying anything new
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-- HISTORY
[/size]FATHER: Andrew Richardson
SIBLINGS: (biological) Aaron Richardson and Mia Richardson (fellow Heartbreaker childer sired/turned by Lilith) -none as yet-
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: -none-
CHILDREN: -none-
OTHER: He had made a few enemies back in the other world, but he is on a clean slate now when it comes to this world.
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-- ABILITIES
1. Superhuman speed. Legends often tell of vampires that flit into the night faster than the eye can catch. Herb is able to, with the expense of energy, move so quickly that he seemingly blurs into nothingness. However, these bursts can only take place in a short time and will leave him exceptionally hungry and exhausted afterwards.
2. Emotion. Herb can manipulate the emotions of humans and other supernatural creatures (with varying levels of success depending on their willpower) to subtly get them to do as he wishes them to. As long as they are within his vicinity, he can mentally coerce him to share their innermost secrets, evoke inexplicable fear in them, feelings of admiration and hero-worship etcetera. Once they leave his line of sight, the spell is broken. People with high willpower are able to resist this ability.
3. Strength. While ordinarily Herb looks like the lanky sedentary sort of guy, he can summon up the same energy he uses for speed to lift heavy objects beyond the limits of human ability. The same effects apply after prolonged usage though.
STRENGTHS: He shares many interests and skills with a typical nerd. Being a librarian, he has a long attention span when it comes to reading. He can scan a large pile of books overnight just to search for the most minute piece of information. He is also good at fixing electronic gadgets. Although electricity is now a luxury in Chicago, he can get a spoiled device working again if it had working batteries in it.
WEAKNESSES: Although Herb is great at fixing machines, he professes himself dumbfounded by weaponry. He does not know how to use a gun, and is clumsy with daggers and Swiss Army knives.
WEAPONS:
-None-
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-- YOU THE RP'ER
[/size]RP'ING FOR HOW LONG: 6 years
TIME ZONE: UTC +8
OTHER CHARACTERS: None
RP SAMPLE:
She was sick, sick of it drawing her away to places she did not want to go. Was it mocking her for having lost one leg? Was that why it was dragging her along, beaming at her helplessness as she was led to one deserted haunt after another?
It was odd to think that of a dog. But she had lived with it long enough to know it was no ordinary dog. It was sentient, she was sure, if she could only prove it. Evil, too. Well, perhaps evil was not the right word. She did not think the Doomed Deathhound was capable of focused emotion. It was just really, really maddening.
And yet here she was, limping all alone in a dark warehouse, a dog whistle in her hand as she called out for her Geist. The hard chink of metal against concrete with every other step she made resounded through the empty hollowness of the building. She shivered. It was a chilly night. The Doomed Deathhound had better emerge soon.
“Deathhound. Deathhound.” Her voice was firm but not passionate. It would not do to sound emotional in front of your Geist. They were most sensitive to emotion, and would lunge on it manically and use it to their advantage. Cybill was an emotional person by nature, but living with Deathhound for the past month had changed her drastically. Then again, death always did affect people so thoroughly, did it not?
“Deathhound. If you’re not coming out, I’m going home.” The slender woman began to turn back towards the door. There was a limit to this whole “walking the dog daily” affair. The Doomed Deathhound could never stay still, and she did want to be home before midnight today. Jacob had promised an overnight stay with her. It had been so long since he came. She looked down at her watch. She had only two hours to wash up.
A silhouette could be seen entering the warehouse. Cybill gulped and darted behind a stack of crates, her prosthetic leg hitting against a carton. It crash-landed on the ground. Everyone would have heard it a mile wide. She grimaced. Damn the leg. She still needed to get used to being clumsy.
Now whoever it was would know where she was. She was not even aware that Deathhound had returned and was gnawing on her artificial limb once more, a habit it refused to shake out of. Right now she was only concerned with staying out of sight. No one who entered a warehouse at this time of night would be a person she could befriend.
“Deathhound,” she whispered, the whistle gripped more tightly in hand, “if they do anything against me, we’ll have to retaliate.”
The ghostly canine merely growled, its fangs still latched on her. It was never fully on her side.
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