Post by Tripp on Aug 8, 2008 16:54:44 GMT
This character will be an introductory character to a new more dangerous threat to Jump City. More details will follow if and when the RP direction takes such a path.
And yeah… There is a lot of details here, this guy and others were part of a fanfic series afterall.
Name: Richard Michael McFarlane.
Alias: Tripp.
Age: 15
Type: Shadowplay.
Gender: Male.
Location: Jump City. Perhaps the Underground.
Alignment: Evil.
Height: 5’ 5”
Weight: 131 lbs
Features: Right handed, Metahuman Disfigurement, Oculocutaneous Albinism, Speaks with a thick British Accent, Physical Build; Skinny.
Lover: “None.”
Crush: “None yet.”
Past Fling: “Maybe that one girl in church...”
Current Fling: “No one.”
Grandmother: “I never knew them.”
Grandfather: “Didn’t know him either.”
Mom: “I think her name was… Lorna. I think…”
Dad: “Jonathan. Jonathan McFarlane.”
Siblings: “Dad didn’t want to risk another one of me I think. So I’m the one an only.”
While not properly educated, Tripp is very bright. A quick learner when push comes to shove, he has been thrown in the deep end more times than he can remember to prove his worth or simply just survive.
It’s his belief that it’s not just the strongest that survive, but the smartest, and he will be first to exclaim that there are degrees of intelligence that measure farther than who can calculate the harder equation. It’s all about who can gain the upper hand, who is smart enough to realise their being used. And who is smart enough to know how to use those who would use you.
He is cruel, self serving, cowardly and highly temperamental. Even more so when exposed to bright light such as daylight or intense halogen lamps. His genetic condition makes him extremely photophobic, and if he can’t remove himself from the foci of his anxiety he will quickly turn violent.
Aside from his antisocial issues, Tripp is very comfortable with who he is. Being a deformed mutant is one thing, being okay with it is another. And through the years this particular mutant has adjusted well to his condition.
In years past, he used to envy normal humans, with each day that came he wanted nothing more than to wake up from his shame and isolation and become normal.
Nowadays, he sees humans for what they are. Too wrapped up in their own petty insecurities, insecurities that show them for what they are. They are Fragile. And Tripp should know. He’s helped organise many of their downfall in years past. And many more to come.
In the Royal Hospital of London, Richard was born with his monstrous deformities, and the complications during his birth tragically killed his mother as a result. His father filled with regret, was unable to give up the mutant and so, fed and provided shelter for Richard as much as he was legally obligated to, but offered nothing more to the boy.
During this time, London itself had not witnessed many strange births in it’s area, mutants being fairly few and rarities at best. But since the Nazi oppression in WW2, any mutants would be keen to hide themselves from the public eye to begin with. Richard was one of the rare ones that was caught in the limelight.
Journalists and paparazzi hounded the McFarlane household, day and night to catch snapshots of the kid. To which Richard’s father, Jonathan, was more than happy to cater for. Providing they paid enough cash. The unemployed father was pretty much creating a media freak show, when his son was still only a few weeks old.
Overexposure would lead to the papers and the readers getting bored of stories about the ‘Monster Baby’, and soon, Jonathan would be left with nothing but his welfare cheques once more.
As soon as he was old enough, Richard was put into public school, he had never been allowed out of the house up until that point, and was curious about the ’outside’ people who looked so differently from himself. He was eager to meet and greet them all and learn more about the outside world. But the young children were terrified of him.
And as the weeks and months went by, as the children either fled from his sight or teased and bullied him, the more Richard realised he was the only one of his kind. He was alone.
His father wanted nothing to do with him. Strangers would walk by with glares or laughter, kids would mock or chase him with sticks and stones, and intrusive paparazzi would stalk and harass him every few months or so.
Each night that drifted past, the young mutant would make a wish, he would wish to be like the others, to look like they do and stop them from hating him, standing before a mirror in the bathroom as he whispered his desires.
And each morning he would awaken, and check his hands and body for any change. And each morning he was met with disappointing results.
At age four, he made a childish decision to run away from home. No one wanted him, he would find somewhere where he would be wanted. Maybe even find people who looked like he did. And in the dead of night, Richard quietly opened the door of his bedroom, crept past his rum soaked father, and disappeared into the dark city streets.
Richard’s father never made a police report. It wasn’t until the local school made an enquiry three months later, that local news programmes reported the mutant was missing. By then, he was already on a cargo freighter headed to Spain.
Two weeks before that happened, or rather… one week after Richard ran away from home. He was found by a recruiter of an insidious and dangerous religious sect of fanatics, the man who made his regular search for homeless vagrants and addicts to preach and recruit found the mutant boy lying in an alley, starving and barely able to move.
The cultists took him in, fed him, paid no heed to his deformities, and gave him a place to be. But knowing that the boy was well known around the British isles, they made the decision to bring him overseas to their European Schools, and let them deal with the mutant‘s indoctrination.
In these schools, Richard was taught the dogma of the true word of God. Taught that Paradise awaits those who pray and that those who refuse to seek the wisdom of God, will be Judged, sentenced and punished. At such a young age, Richard ate up the words, the prayers, the hymns and rituals practiced in the small hidden chapels. And did so with a smile on his freakish face and hope in his heart.
But the other children within the school were still not so forgiving or accepting of Richard’s physical anomalies, the mutant’s bottled up anger and pain was vented in a violent tantrum, resulting in one of his bully’s having his eyes clawed out of his head.
The cultists could not allow such a sin to go unpunished. And Richard’s sentence was carried out.
Within the cult’s laws, they have a rule. Similar to, ‘An Eye for an Eye’. Except it always warrants a death sentence. Richard was no exception.
The teachers and ‘caregivers’ of the school make one telephone call, and the next day, two men dressed in black suits arrive and take the offending child away in a white transit van to a secure location. This location is a privately owned industrial complex in Tongass National Forest, Alaska. It is also known to many as, The Prison.
This Prison, takes the cult’s newly indoctrinated troublemakers and sets them on a new path. One where death is Fated. When you enter, you will die of unnatural causes, either inside the Prison, or later in life. At least, that’s what people in the cult believe. But there is strong evidence supporting these rumours. Linked to the mortality rates of the cult’s private Militia.
You see, this cult of zealots has two sides of the same coin. One side, worships the word of God and retains administrative control over 90% of it’s loyal followers, who desire nothing more than to do the work of God, whatever it may be, and these people enter Paradise when the time is nigh.
The other side of the coin, are the sinners.
Sinners of the faith are commonly identified at a young age. Those who steal, those who fight or hurt, those who lie and cheat, and they are sent to the Prison to be ‘reformed’ as something more useful where they can put their self-destructive talents to good use for the cult’s causes.
The Prison doesn’t cater facilities for offenders of the faith discovered at an older age. They are quickly dealt with. Dealt with by one of the Prison’s reformed inmates. Each of whom will act as the cult’s secretive Death Police. Eliminating threats to the sect’s secrecy and silencing troublemakers or heretics that make themselves an inviting target to the Cardinals of the cult.
But the selection process is long and undoubtedly deadly to the sinners who later become a part of this militia.
“Recruits” are shoved into rusty cells built underground the main complex, <<Transcript omitted due to graphic content>>
Through these trials and tortures, the quiet introverted Richard, became the vicious and twisted Tripp.
He and a handful of others proved their worth, or rather, had a large enough will to live than die. And that’s what the cult wants for their new task forces. Cowards.
Cowards can be controlled. If they fear you more than the enemy they are obedient to the letter.
Much of the trauma and the experiences are washed away though brainwashing, mental conditioning and narcotic abuse. “Tripp” himself barely remembers the experience, only a random pile of distorted images and nonsensical nightmares plague him and the others of his ilk.
And today he serves as one of the Cult’s private scouts and information gatherers. Doing what he was ‘trained’ to do back in the Prison. He is not the first of his kind to be sentenced this way, there were always others before him. But like the rumours say, once you enter the Prison, you are fated to die. And all members of the Death Squads either end up dead one way or another, sooner or later. A part of Tripp believes this, and he doesn’t like it one bit. He just tells himself he’ll have to keep on his toes to stay alive.
And you can bet the others that died before him all said the exact same thing.
For there is always ‘fresh meat’ added to the Prison’s cells on a weekly basis.
No pictures. Only a text description. I do not have a scanner. Yet.
Since he was born, Richard has been disfigured because of a genetic irregularity. Commonly known these days as a Metahuman disorder. Or Mutant, Mutie. Take your pick.
In addition to his monstrous visage, his body is afflicted with Oculocutaneous Albinism, a lack of melanin pigment in the skin, eyes and hair, bleaching it white while the iris of his eyes is shaded a milky pink.
His skin disorder is however not the only icing on the cake.
His skin cannot be seen, as it is covered in a layer of bleached white fur, his face resembles some kind of B-movie werewolf horror, complete with a muzzle full of pointed needle-like teeth, and large bat-like ears. His hands and toes are decked in sharp piercing claws on each tip, while a long ragged pale white tail trails from his rear connected from the end of his spine.
Life in the gutters means he often gets fleas and sometimes even mange spreading over his body, having patches of fur and hair fall out from the scabrous flesh. The albino white fur is often dulled to a light grey having been soiled with filth, grime, carrying with it a pungent stench of the alleys and dumpsters. Or even the sewers depending on where the cult is currently making camp.
Needless to say, the combination can make for a sudden shock to any unsuspecting target who was but a moment ago, sleeping soundly in their bed, dreaming merrily only to be awakened and staring face to face with glazed, bloodshot pink eyes and grinning, fanged jaws eager to sink into soft flesh.
As mentioned above, the condition Oculocutaneous Albinism carries with it a disability that affects the individual with an extreme sensitivity to light. Commonly in the eyes causing intense photophobia or photosensitivity that can impair sight or even cause temporary blindness when the iris has trouble filtering the light and glare. Greater visual impairment can arise in adulthood, such as near sightedness or farsightedness.
By far the most well known issue is the sensitivity to sunlight and sunburn upon the skin. Without the protection of excellent sun-block and, or, thick clothing or sunglasses the skin can burn more easily during pro-longed exposure. (Pro-longed ranging between 30minutes and 2 hours.) Which can in turn cause various forms of skin cancer or dermal infections. Even sunlamps or halogen lighting can cause this effect which can be incredibly discomforting to the person afflicted with this disorder.
Richard however, due to some strange part of his mutation, has a more violent reaction whenever he is in contact with direct sunlight or intense lighting.
His skin will rapidly blister and blemish, the skin turning red as a severe reaction takes place. Within twenty minutes the skin will have began to crisp and peel off like bad sunburn, cracking and bleeding as it dries up, revealing tissue and muscle beneath.
It is assumed that within an hour and a half, Richard would be dead from constant exposure to intense sunlight.
So during the daylight hours he dresses in large winter raincoats and hats, stinking of sun block and gutter trash, while during the night he can wear whatever he wishes without being punished by the sunlight‘s glare.
Powers and Abilities
Shroud:
Since the age of twelve, Richard found he could use strange abilities to darken and cover an area in a blanket of inky black shadows, obscuring sight and rendering people blind. Strangely, this power diminishes when exposed to light, even artificial lights.
He cannot cover streetlights and lamps, flashlights or flame, and the power fades to nothing in sunlight. So what use does this power have?
Richard can darken existing shadows, blacken them completely to allow himself better camouflage and concealment from prying eyes looking from afar. The shadows can spread to any size and width, so long as they are not exposed to bright lights.
This was the first ability that Richard learned he could use. Through practice and playing around with his new powers he has discovered new possibilities, and at one point, he was even able to make these shadow’s solid, but since that fluke he has been unable to replicate that effect. He was heavily intoxicated when it happened, he’s not even all too sure on whether he actually did it in the first place…
Dark sight:
Richard carries within him, an innate gift to see within the darkest of places as if it were day. Even if not a sliver of light is present.
While Richard’s vision is limited in bright light or sunlight, in the darkness he can see with crystal clarity, viewing everything in a black, white and grey spectrum. This does mean that he is colour-blind when using this power, but for all intents and purposes he never really needed to see such things. If the enemy can’t see the colours in the shadows, why should he need to?
While this power is active, Richard’s pupils are incredibly dilated, to the point where the whites of his eyes disappear. Bright lighting and glare can cause greater harm to his eyes at this stage, stinging his eyes and dazzling his sight, and weapons such as flash bangs could potentially cause blindness and severe damage to his retina’s.
Shadowplay:
Shadow play, is the art of manipulating the Shroud Power by delicately influencing it’s shape, form and size. With proper practice he can form anything he desires out of this artificial shadow, creating clothing, imitations of items or weapons, or even shadowy copies of himself. A silhouette of inky blackness.
These copies will only really fool someone if Richard himself covers his own body in layers of darkness, covering all his features and hiding them from view, but it can create an excellent decoy to catch enemies off guard.
But it should be noted, that all these copies, whether they be doppelgangers or shadowy objects, they are completely immaterial and ethereal, having no physical substance. And if exposed to bright powerful lights or sunlight, they will fade away to nothing.
Claws and Fangs:
Sharp claws grow upon his fingertips and toes, each of them one inch long. All of his Claws are fairly thick and durable and easily suited to rending flesh from bone if given the opportunity.
Within his jaws, Richard’s teeth are pointed like sharp needles, suggesting a carnivorous diet, and his bites can be as lethal as his grip on exposed skin. Of course, if the user has the essential skills needed to brawl with these makeshift weapons.
Enhanced Hearing:
Richard’s ears are large for a reason. They can pick up sounds that no ordinary human ear could detect, and are highly sensitive to loud noises, more so with high pitched frequencies.
He himself finds it easy to listen to conversations in other rooms, hear the footsteps of sneaking intruders on soft carpeting, and can even hear ultrasonic sounds such as those made by dog whistles or bats.
But a smart opponent will take note of his apparent strength and turn it against him, deafening the mutant and causing great agony in the process.
Miscellaneous
Carries a standard pistol, and a knife.
Equipped with a Cellphone, Compact Binoculars, Lockpicks and Tension Tools, Digital Watch, Cigarette Lighter and Pack of smokes.
Groaning into life from a deep slumber, Tripp’s muscles stretched wide and stiffly to readily awaken them for action, or at the very least, pull himself off from the soiled sofa in the decrepit apartment.
The sun had set, night had come, and for Tripp this meant breakfast before work began.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his knuckles, Tripp propped up straight upon the couch and took a look around the pitch black room. His eyes searching for the cold leftovers of a Pizza he left unfinished the night before.
“Ah there you are.” The mutant muttered to himself as he reached down onto the dusty floor to retrieve the box.
Though the room was in total darkness, without even a sliver of moonlight through the boarded up windows of the slum, Tripp never found the obscurity of the shadows a hindrance. It was cool and soothing, a refreshing atmosphere to take the sleepiness away from his senses while he munched upon dry pizza crusts and leftover tomatoes.
It wouldn’t be long before he would get the call. He knew that as much. Deus would start ringing his cellphone come midnight and give the order.
But at least he called first… It made Tripp shiver uncomfortably to think of all the other ways the bastard used to contact him in the past. It took weeks of pleading and begging to get him to agree to using a d**n phone.
“Just so long as you answer when I call” He repeated to himself sarcastically as he thought of the boss’s warning, letting out a sigh as stood and wandered to the destroyed window. Feeling a need to check out any random happenings out on the streets to pass the time.
Jump City was a hole. Not a d**ned thing of interest in the entire place, not a casino, not a good club, no decent safe houses and why? Because of these Titans?
Though Tripp couldn’t see the magnificent Titans Tower from his view from the windows, he sighted the steel monolith on his boat ride here from Gotham. He even noted someone flying through the air and landing atop it’s rooftop as he watched it from the upper deck of the ship.
Deus warned of this.
‘They will try to stop you. They do not understand why it is we do what needs to be done. See that you succeed, failure is not an option.’
Stop me from what? Well, Tripp would find out come midnight. When that cellphone rang, and the voice would tell him where to go, what to get, and even who to kill.
And like clockwork, it did ring.
“It’s me.” Tripp spoke.
As series of distorted whispers breathed and scratched against the receiver, accompanied with a low pitched buzzing that escalated into a loud crackling whine before the line went dead.
“I understand, consider it done.” Tripp responded monotonously even though the call had already ended.
“Time to get to work.”
Name: Rab
Gender: Male
RP Experience: Been paper Rping for a good few years now, mainly on WoD stuff.
Activity: Mainly afternoons or evenings.
Watermelon.
And yeah… There is a lot of details here, this guy and others were part of a fanfic series afterall.
The Basics
Name: Richard Michael McFarlane.
Alias: Tripp.
Age: 15
Type: Shadowplay.
Gender: Male.
Location: Jump City. Perhaps the Underground.
Alignment: Evil.
Height: 5’ 5”
Weight: 131 lbs
Features: Right handed, Metahuman Disfigurement, Oculocutaneous Albinism, Speaks with a thick British Accent, Physical Build; Skinny.
Relations
Lover: “None.”
Crush: “None yet.”
Past Fling: “Maybe that one girl in church...”
Current Fling: “No one.”
Linage
Grandmother: “I never knew them.”
Grandfather: “Didn’t know him either.”
Mom: “I think her name was… Lorna. I think…”
Dad: “Jonathan. Jonathan McFarlane.”
Siblings: “Dad didn’t want to risk another one of me I think. So I’m the one an only.”
Personality
While not properly educated, Tripp is very bright. A quick learner when push comes to shove, he has been thrown in the deep end more times than he can remember to prove his worth or simply just survive.
It’s his belief that it’s not just the strongest that survive, but the smartest, and he will be first to exclaim that there are degrees of intelligence that measure farther than who can calculate the harder equation. It’s all about who can gain the upper hand, who is smart enough to realise their being used. And who is smart enough to know how to use those who would use you.
He is cruel, self serving, cowardly and highly temperamental. Even more so when exposed to bright light such as daylight or intense halogen lamps. His genetic condition makes him extremely photophobic, and if he can’t remove himself from the foci of his anxiety he will quickly turn violent.
Aside from his antisocial issues, Tripp is very comfortable with who he is. Being a deformed mutant is one thing, being okay with it is another. And through the years this particular mutant has adjusted well to his condition.
In years past, he used to envy normal humans, with each day that came he wanted nothing more than to wake up from his shame and isolation and become normal.
Nowadays, he sees humans for what they are. Too wrapped up in their own petty insecurities, insecurities that show them for what they are. They are Fragile. And Tripp should know. He’s helped organise many of their downfall in years past. And many more to come.
History
In the Royal Hospital of London, Richard was born with his monstrous deformities, and the complications during his birth tragically killed his mother as a result. His father filled with regret, was unable to give up the mutant and so, fed and provided shelter for Richard as much as he was legally obligated to, but offered nothing more to the boy.
During this time, London itself had not witnessed many strange births in it’s area, mutants being fairly few and rarities at best. But since the Nazi oppression in WW2, any mutants would be keen to hide themselves from the public eye to begin with. Richard was one of the rare ones that was caught in the limelight.
Journalists and paparazzi hounded the McFarlane household, day and night to catch snapshots of the kid. To which Richard’s father, Jonathan, was more than happy to cater for. Providing they paid enough cash. The unemployed father was pretty much creating a media freak show, when his son was still only a few weeks old.
Overexposure would lead to the papers and the readers getting bored of stories about the ‘Monster Baby’, and soon, Jonathan would be left with nothing but his welfare cheques once more.
As soon as he was old enough, Richard was put into public school, he had never been allowed out of the house up until that point, and was curious about the ’outside’ people who looked so differently from himself. He was eager to meet and greet them all and learn more about the outside world. But the young children were terrified of him.
And as the weeks and months went by, as the children either fled from his sight or teased and bullied him, the more Richard realised he was the only one of his kind. He was alone.
His father wanted nothing to do with him. Strangers would walk by with glares or laughter, kids would mock or chase him with sticks and stones, and intrusive paparazzi would stalk and harass him every few months or so.
Each night that drifted past, the young mutant would make a wish, he would wish to be like the others, to look like they do and stop them from hating him, standing before a mirror in the bathroom as he whispered his desires.
And each morning he would awaken, and check his hands and body for any change. And each morning he was met with disappointing results.
At age four, he made a childish decision to run away from home. No one wanted him, he would find somewhere where he would be wanted. Maybe even find people who looked like he did. And in the dead of night, Richard quietly opened the door of his bedroom, crept past his rum soaked father, and disappeared into the dark city streets.
Richard’s father never made a police report. It wasn’t until the local school made an enquiry three months later, that local news programmes reported the mutant was missing. By then, he was already on a cargo freighter headed to Spain.
Two weeks before that happened, or rather… one week after Richard ran away from home. He was found by a recruiter of an insidious and dangerous religious sect of fanatics, the man who made his regular search for homeless vagrants and addicts to preach and recruit found the mutant boy lying in an alley, starving and barely able to move.
The cultists took him in, fed him, paid no heed to his deformities, and gave him a place to be. But knowing that the boy was well known around the British isles, they made the decision to bring him overseas to their European Schools, and let them deal with the mutant‘s indoctrination.
In these schools, Richard was taught the dogma of the true word of God. Taught that Paradise awaits those who pray and that those who refuse to seek the wisdom of God, will be Judged, sentenced and punished. At such a young age, Richard ate up the words, the prayers, the hymns and rituals practiced in the small hidden chapels. And did so with a smile on his freakish face and hope in his heart.
But the other children within the school were still not so forgiving or accepting of Richard’s physical anomalies, the mutant’s bottled up anger and pain was vented in a violent tantrum, resulting in one of his bully’s having his eyes clawed out of his head.
The cultists could not allow such a sin to go unpunished. And Richard’s sentence was carried out.
Within the cult’s laws, they have a rule. Similar to, ‘An Eye for an Eye’. Except it always warrants a death sentence. Richard was no exception.
The teachers and ‘caregivers’ of the school make one telephone call, and the next day, two men dressed in black suits arrive and take the offending child away in a white transit van to a secure location. This location is a privately owned industrial complex in Tongass National Forest, Alaska. It is also known to many as, The Prison.
This Prison, takes the cult’s newly indoctrinated troublemakers and sets them on a new path. One where death is Fated. When you enter, you will die of unnatural causes, either inside the Prison, or later in life. At least, that’s what people in the cult believe. But there is strong evidence supporting these rumours. Linked to the mortality rates of the cult’s private Militia.
You see, this cult of zealots has two sides of the same coin. One side, worships the word of God and retains administrative control over 90% of it’s loyal followers, who desire nothing more than to do the work of God, whatever it may be, and these people enter Paradise when the time is nigh.
The other side of the coin, are the sinners.
Sinners of the faith are commonly identified at a young age. Those who steal, those who fight or hurt, those who lie and cheat, and they are sent to the Prison to be ‘reformed’ as something more useful where they can put their self-destructive talents to good use for the cult’s causes.
The Prison doesn’t cater facilities for offenders of the faith discovered at an older age. They are quickly dealt with. Dealt with by one of the Prison’s reformed inmates. Each of whom will act as the cult’s secretive Death Police. Eliminating threats to the sect’s secrecy and silencing troublemakers or heretics that make themselves an inviting target to the Cardinals of the cult.
But the selection process is long and undoubtedly deadly to the sinners who later become a part of this militia.
“Recruits” are shoved into rusty cells built underground the main complex, <<Transcript omitted due to graphic content>>
Through these trials and tortures, the quiet introverted Richard, became the vicious and twisted Tripp.
He and a handful of others proved their worth, or rather, had a large enough will to live than die. And that’s what the cult wants for their new task forces. Cowards.
Cowards can be controlled. If they fear you more than the enemy they are obedient to the letter.
Much of the trauma and the experiences are washed away though brainwashing, mental conditioning and narcotic abuse. “Tripp” himself barely remembers the experience, only a random pile of distorted images and nonsensical nightmares plague him and the others of his ilk.
And today he serves as one of the Cult’s private scouts and information gatherers. Doing what he was ‘trained’ to do back in the Prison. He is not the first of his kind to be sentenced this way, there were always others before him. But like the rumours say, once you enter the Prison, you are fated to die. And all members of the Death Squads either end up dead one way or another, sooner or later. A part of Tripp believes this, and he doesn’t like it one bit. He just tells himself he’ll have to keep on his toes to stay alive.
And you can bet the others that died before him all said the exact same thing.
For there is always ‘fresh meat’ added to the Prison’s cells on a weekly basis.
Pictures
No pictures. Only a text description. I do not have a scanner. Yet.
Since he was born, Richard has been disfigured because of a genetic irregularity. Commonly known these days as a Metahuman disorder. Or Mutant, Mutie. Take your pick.
In addition to his monstrous visage, his body is afflicted with Oculocutaneous Albinism, a lack of melanin pigment in the skin, eyes and hair, bleaching it white while the iris of his eyes is shaded a milky pink.
His skin disorder is however not the only icing on the cake.
His skin cannot be seen, as it is covered in a layer of bleached white fur, his face resembles some kind of B-movie werewolf horror, complete with a muzzle full of pointed needle-like teeth, and large bat-like ears. His hands and toes are decked in sharp piercing claws on each tip, while a long ragged pale white tail trails from his rear connected from the end of his spine.
Life in the gutters means he often gets fleas and sometimes even mange spreading over his body, having patches of fur and hair fall out from the scabrous flesh. The albino white fur is often dulled to a light grey having been soiled with filth, grime, carrying with it a pungent stench of the alleys and dumpsters. Or even the sewers depending on where the cult is currently making camp.
Needless to say, the combination can make for a sudden shock to any unsuspecting target who was but a moment ago, sleeping soundly in their bed, dreaming merrily only to be awakened and staring face to face with glazed, bloodshot pink eyes and grinning, fanged jaws eager to sink into soft flesh.
As mentioned above, the condition Oculocutaneous Albinism carries with it a disability that affects the individual with an extreme sensitivity to light. Commonly in the eyes causing intense photophobia or photosensitivity that can impair sight or even cause temporary blindness when the iris has trouble filtering the light and glare. Greater visual impairment can arise in adulthood, such as near sightedness or farsightedness.
By far the most well known issue is the sensitivity to sunlight and sunburn upon the skin. Without the protection of excellent sun-block and, or, thick clothing or sunglasses the skin can burn more easily during pro-longed exposure. (Pro-longed ranging between 30minutes and 2 hours.) Which can in turn cause various forms of skin cancer or dermal infections. Even sunlamps or halogen lighting can cause this effect which can be incredibly discomforting to the person afflicted with this disorder.
Richard however, due to some strange part of his mutation, has a more violent reaction whenever he is in contact with direct sunlight or intense lighting.
His skin will rapidly blister and blemish, the skin turning red as a severe reaction takes place. Within twenty minutes the skin will have began to crisp and peel off like bad sunburn, cracking and bleeding as it dries up, revealing tissue and muscle beneath.
It is assumed that within an hour and a half, Richard would be dead from constant exposure to intense sunlight.
So during the daylight hours he dresses in large winter raincoats and hats, stinking of sun block and gutter trash, while during the night he can wear whatever he wishes without being punished by the sunlight‘s glare.
Powers and Abilities
Shroud:
Since the age of twelve, Richard found he could use strange abilities to darken and cover an area in a blanket of inky black shadows, obscuring sight and rendering people blind. Strangely, this power diminishes when exposed to light, even artificial lights.
He cannot cover streetlights and lamps, flashlights or flame, and the power fades to nothing in sunlight. So what use does this power have?
Richard can darken existing shadows, blacken them completely to allow himself better camouflage and concealment from prying eyes looking from afar. The shadows can spread to any size and width, so long as they are not exposed to bright lights.
This was the first ability that Richard learned he could use. Through practice and playing around with his new powers he has discovered new possibilities, and at one point, he was even able to make these shadow’s solid, but since that fluke he has been unable to replicate that effect. He was heavily intoxicated when it happened, he’s not even all too sure on whether he actually did it in the first place…
Dark sight:
Richard carries within him, an innate gift to see within the darkest of places as if it were day. Even if not a sliver of light is present.
While Richard’s vision is limited in bright light or sunlight, in the darkness he can see with crystal clarity, viewing everything in a black, white and grey spectrum. This does mean that he is colour-blind when using this power, but for all intents and purposes he never really needed to see such things. If the enemy can’t see the colours in the shadows, why should he need to?
While this power is active, Richard’s pupils are incredibly dilated, to the point where the whites of his eyes disappear. Bright lighting and glare can cause greater harm to his eyes at this stage, stinging his eyes and dazzling his sight, and weapons such as flash bangs could potentially cause blindness and severe damage to his retina’s.
Shadowplay:
Shadow play, is the art of manipulating the Shroud Power by delicately influencing it’s shape, form and size. With proper practice he can form anything he desires out of this artificial shadow, creating clothing, imitations of items or weapons, or even shadowy copies of himself. A silhouette of inky blackness.
These copies will only really fool someone if Richard himself covers his own body in layers of darkness, covering all his features and hiding them from view, but it can create an excellent decoy to catch enemies off guard.
But it should be noted, that all these copies, whether they be doppelgangers or shadowy objects, they are completely immaterial and ethereal, having no physical substance. And if exposed to bright powerful lights or sunlight, they will fade away to nothing.
Claws and Fangs:
Sharp claws grow upon his fingertips and toes, each of them one inch long. All of his Claws are fairly thick and durable and easily suited to rending flesh from bone if given the opportunity.
Within his jaws, Richard’s teeth are pointed like sharp needles, suggesting a carnivorous diet, and his bites can be as lethal as his grip on exposed skin. Of course, if the user has the essential skills needed to brawl with these makeshift weapons.
Enhanced Hearing:
Richard’s ears are large for a reason. They can pick up sounds that no ordinary human ear could detect, and are highly sensitive to loud noises, more so with high pitched frequencies.
He himself finds it easy to listen to conversations in other rooms, hear the footsteps of sneaking intruders on soft carpeting, and can even hear ultrasonic sounds such as those made by dog whistles or bats.
But a smart opponent will take note of his apparent strength and turn it against him, deafening the mutant and causing great agony in the process.
Miscellaneous
Carries a standard pistol, and a knife.
Equipped with a Cellphone, Compact Binoculars, Lockpicks and Tension Tools, Digital Watch, Cigarette Lighter and Pack of smokes.
Roleplay Example
Groaning into life from a deep slumber, Tripp’s muscles stretched wide and stiffly to readily awaken them for action, or at the very least, pull himself off from the soiled sofa in the decrepit apartment.
The sun had set, night had come, and for Tripp this meant breakfast before work began.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his knuckles, Tripp propped up straight upon the couch and took a look around the pitch black room. His eyes searching for the cold leftovers of a Pizza he left unfinished the night before.
“Ah there you are.” The mutant muttered to himself as he reached down onto the dusty floor to retrieve the box.
Though the room was in total darkness, without even a sliver of moonlight through the boarded up windows of the slum, Tripp never found the obscurity of the shadows a hindrance. It was cool and soothing, a refreshing atmosphere to take the sleepiness away from his senses while he munched upon dry pizza crusts and leftover tomatoes.
It wouldn’t be long before he would get the call. He knew that as much. Deus would start ringing his cellphone come midnight and give the order.
But at least he called first… It made Tripp shiver uncomfortably to think of all the other ways the bastard used to contact him in the past. It took weeks of pleading and begging to get him to agree to using a d**n phone.
“Just so long as you answer when I call” He repeated to himself sarcastically as he thought of the boss’s warning, letting out a sigh as stood and wandered to the destroyed window. Feeling a need to check out any random happenings out on the streets to pass the time.
Jump City was a hole. Not a d**ned thing of interest in the entire place, not a casino, not a good club, no decent safe houses and why? Because of these Titans?
Though Tripp couldn’t see the magnificent Titans Tower from his view from the windows, he sighted the steel monolith on his boat ride here from Gotham. He even noted someone flying through the air and landing atop it’s rooftop as he watched it from the upper deck of the ship.
Deus warned of this.
‘They will try to stop you. They do not understand why it is we do what needs to be done. See that you succeed, failure is not an option.’
Stop me from what? Well, Tripp would find out come midnight. When that cellphone rang, and the voice would tell him where to go, what to get, and even who to kill.
And like clockwork, it did ring.
“It’s me.” Tripp spoke.
As series of distorted whispers breathed and scratched against the receiver, accompanied with a low pitched buzzing that escalated into a loud crackling whine before the line went dead.
“I understand, consider it done.” Tripp responded monotonously even though the call had already ended.
“Time to get to work.”
About Yourself
Name: Rab
Gender: Male
RP Experience: Been paper Rping for a good few years now, mainly on WoD stuff.
Activity: Mainly afternoons or evenings.
Watermelon.