| Alexander Vorner; Scion of Odin | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 24 2008, 09:53 PM (61 Views) | |
| Doublehex | Feb 24 2008, 09:53 PM Post #1 |
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Name Alexander [Alex] Vorner Calling Luster of Adventure Nature Rebel Pantheon Aesir God Odin Attributes Physical Strength: Alex is no power house. He is reasonably fit, but he is no Hulk Hogan. He is more than capable of holding his own against human opponents, but don’t expect him to lift boulders or push massive stone blocks all by his lonesome. Dexterity: Alex is a nimble individual, able to occasionally avoid attacks here and there. Stamina: Alex’s most noticeable attribute by far. His body has taught itself how to take a beating, so he will still be on his feat while others have fallen down. His opponent will be beating him down, but when they’re all exhausted, and he is still full of energy, he’ll end the fight with incredible ease. Social Charisma: If Alex wanted to, he could convince a serpent to shed its skin. He has this aura around him that people just respect. He’s a natural born leader...perhaps him being the son of the king of the Norse gods has something applicable to this. Manipulation: Manipulation is not what Alex is about. He’s not good to tricking people. He is much better at persuading them. He has long since given up this part of social graces. Appearance: Alex being an attractive individual is undisputed – all those years spent fighting in the streets and hallways have eroded his body into a muscular form. But he does not possess the godly beauty that Scions of Aphrodite or Baldur seem fortunate to inherit. He simply has the good looks of any other mortal who takes the time to mold his body into one. Mental Perception: Alex isn’t the most perceptive Scion around. He might see a hint of betrayal on a speaker’s lips, but don’t put your bets on Alex. Intelligence: Is Alex an intelligent guy? Sure he is. But is he intelligent enough to interpret that the Mona Lisa was in fact a relic created by De Vinci as a hint to the ancient old puzzle of the sinking of Atlantis? Not by a long shot. Wits: Alex has enough wits to make up for his perception and intellect. He knows the words that will get him allegiances, but he also knows how to assemble those words together to make them work just the way he wants them to. Abilities
Birthright
Boons EPIC CHARISMA
Looks and Appearance Photo At eighteen years of age, Alex has just ventured into the borders of maturity best identified as ‘adulthood’. He is of average height, as well as of somewhat above average build, and he has been blessed with fairly good physical appearance. His blonde hair is cut normally down the back, but up front it is kept long enough for him to spike it, if he so chooses. Clothes wise, he has a tendency to have two layers of shirts – one that is opened, and the other that usually switches between t-shirts and plain colored ones. He almost always has pants – not shorts. More pockets for stuff he may find interesting, you see. He also has a few necklaces he has on at all times. Most of them are beads made of various materials, from different types of wood to metal and even plastic. He never has any more than four, but no less than two. Origins It was nearly eighteen years to the day when Brandon Vorner was taking a well deserved snooze on his recliner in his modest home when he was awakened by an almost familiar knock on the door. One knock, a pause, followed by two more. Brandon, a man in his late forties, knew that symphony of knocks better than anyone else. It couldn’t of have been his littlest girl, Anne. He told himself that over and over as he made his way to the door. She was in her senior year of college in North Carolina. No reason for her be all the way home in dreary and cold Massachusetts, home of more snow than any man ever needed. But when weathered Brandon saw his little girl, with an obvious pregnant belly, say “Hi dad”, in that most pathetically apologetic tone he hated (loved) her so, he knew why she was home. When Alex’s mom died a good nine years later due to complexities neither son nor father would wish to remise on, it was up to old man Vorner to raise his grandchild. He was practically doing it anyways – now it was all official. Of course, his various aunt and uncles chipped in every now and then, like when he needed someone to watch him while he was out doing business he didn’t want but it had to be done because he lived in America, and in America the people in charge loved to be a pain in the ass just for the sake of it. Alex wasn’t a bad kid – not at all. Sure, he got in more fights than unendingly nosy bystanders could shake their heads at, but he had a good heart, and that was what counted. He wasn’t no Boy Scout – got kicked out the first day after beating another boy for saying some crap about one of his friends. He didn’t volunteer at Church too much – he would help in every one in a blue moon, with the occasional repair job he had no idea what to do but would teach himself with much difficulty. But he was a people person. He could talk his way into anyone’s heart. He may have the portfolio of a bully, but he had the heart of a guy who looked out for others. That was half of his fights. The other half were him fighting just for the sake of fighting. He loves the rush, the adrenaline. Maybe it was all those video games, or maybe it was him being told every mythological tale under the sun, but he loved the fights. Sure, he wasn’t going on a real adventure – there was no Golden Fleece that needed to be retrieved, no Gorgon to be beheaded in order to save his beloved – but he could at least emulate one. All that fantasizing got him into trouble with school. He didn’t have good grades. Sure, he tried, his grades were pretty average. No college would want him, and both he and his grandfather knew it. He wasn’t too into sports, so no scout would be looking for him. Besides some community school, he really had nowhere else to go. That was when Fate decided to intervene. It was in October, on a Wednesday, when he first saw the ravens. He just walking by, and for some reason, he noticed them. He saw two ravens, side by side, hanging on a branch, watching him. They did nothing but watch him. They didn’t caw, scurry for worms, or anything else that birds were expected to do. They just watched. More than just a little freaky, but Alex quickly forgot about them. That is, until he saw them again the week after, again on a Wednesday. They were perched on telephone wires. Two raves, side by side, staring at him, as if he was the only thing worth their time. The week after that, it was on the rooftops of his neighbor’s house. And the week after, it was on the fence on someone’s yard. It was then his frustration and anxiety boiled to the point where he had to speak. “What are you?” he screamed at them, throwing a rock. No one was around, but even if there were any he wouldn’t have given a damn. “Hey look, he actually talked to us.” Alex was dumbfounded, lost for words. One of the ravens had just talked. “I’ll say. It was about time. Shall we explain ourselves, or should we just stand here and let him ramble on like some madman?” “I say the former – the big man would be awfully angered if we did otherwise.” “Who are you? Why the hell are you talking? HOW are you talking? Maybe I’m hallucinating – maybe I’ve gone insane.” “Doesn’t this remind you of someone?” The partner raven nodded. “Lookie, maybe we should explain ourselves before he goes all bananas on us.” “That’s what I said. So, shall I?” “Sure. I’ll just stand here, looking oblivious to everything.” The first raven cawed. “I’m Hugin, and that one’s Munin. We both work for the esteemed All-Father, ‘He that Crucified Himself for Nine Days to The World Tree Yggdrasil’. In simple terms, Odin.” “But Odin’s a myth. He doesn’t exist. He’s just a fairy tale!” “Well, it looks like we’re just a fragment of your imagination then. Should we poke his eye out then?” “Naw, that’s no good. The big man still needs him to use that eye.” “True that.” “Look Alex –“ “How do you know my name?” “I’m getting there. See, Alex chap, Odin be your dad.” “Odin, the King of the Gods, is my dad.” “I can barely detect your skepticism,” Munin chirped. “I can’t lie to ya kiddo. Seriously, I can’t.” “So, I’m his son?” “Right. He also has a tendency to not be around when his kids are born.” “Which is what my mom said of my dad...” “See? We can’t lie!” “So what am I then? A God?” “Yes and no. See, you’re his Scion – his beloved son. Basically, you’re human. But you have the potential of godhood. There’s this thing in you, called the ichor. Basically, the divine stuff that makes up all gods. That ichor gives you an extra oomph.” “Meaning what?” “Meaning that you can be better than pretty much every other plain Joe Schmoe. Faster, smarter, tougher, you name it.” “Is Odin the only guy with – what was it, Scions? – running around?” “Ah Hel no. The Pesedjet, the Dodekatheon, the Amatsukami, the Loa and the Atzlánti all have their lovely little Scions running around doing stuff for them.” “Uh, the who, the what, and the can you say that just a little bit slower?” Higin sighed. “Yes, that school of yours teaches you of only paranoia and computers. That would be, in order, pay attention now, Egyptian, Greeco-Roma, Japanese, Voodoo Gods, and the lovely Aztec.” “There are tons of others,” Higin’s colleague moved in, “but those six intermingled with you lovely humies the most.” “For how long?” “What’s the longest time you can think of?” “Forever sounds good.” “That’s about right.” “So, why are you here? What little I know of plot development is that there is a reasoning for this crap.” “He’s quick.” “Reminds me of his dad.” “Okay, look, its like this. The Gods have their parents too – the Titans. But the Gods kinda overthrew them and put them in prison.” “Prison? Why not just kill them?” “You know of something called the Ice Age?” “Yeah.” “Well, when your half-nephew, Thor, killed Ymir, that Ice Age ended.” “Oh. That’s why.” “Precisely. Well, the Titans are loose. They basically want the Gods’ heads on their dinner table along with their processing organs for desert. “I am going to fight Titans?” “You? Alex my boy, please, your like an ant. You’re no good in the Overworld. Where we need you, is here.” “You are going to, along with whatever Scion you are gonna cross paths with, fend off the Titans and their spawns on the home front.” “And how am I supposed to do that? I may be the son of Odin, but I’m still a half-god-human hybrid thing that all he has for weapons are the clothes on his back.” “And that’s why we came prepared. Well, not necessarily. Think you could follow us for a bit?” “Not like I have much of a choice.” “Good boy!” Alex followed the pair, through the streets, and down the corners of the town, until he found himself in an alleyway. One of the ravens tapped on the furthest wall with its beak, and the wall began to split. It divided, as if it was a door just waiting to be opened. What came out was, that could only be defined with Alex’s experience with Lord of the Rings, as a dwarf.” “So the kid finally showed up.” “Uh, who are you?” “Virgim, pleased to meet your acquaintance.” “Uh, charmed.” “Follow me kiddo.” Alex obliged, and found himself what was essentially a windowless building. There was not natural light in the whole place. It was all electronic. “Sunlight turns us to stone, y’see,” Virgim answered the question Alex was about to ask. They went through one, two, then three rooms before Alex found himself in a relatively small chamber. In it was a large metal box, covered in mechanisms and levers. Virgim pushes buttons, pulled levers, and twisted cogs until the chest opened. “Take it,” Virgim said. Alex peered into the box, and in it was the largest pistol he had ever seen. It was bronze – or bronze colored at the very least – with what must have been the largest chamber for any handgun ever built. “That be your birthright. Think of it as a gift from your old. Go on, pick it up.” Reluctantly, he did so. The grip was perfect. It wasn’t heavy at all. It felt...just right. “It feels like it was made just for me.” “Looks like we did our job then. Now be careful with that – you can’t use your powers without that, or some other birthright.” “Powers? What powers?” The dwarf grinned. “Oh, that you’ll find out soon enough.” |
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11:10 AM Jul 11