Character Creation Challenge

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Character Creation Challenge; Practice Character Building
Topic Started: October 8 2008, 08:04 PM (340 Views)
Colton C	October 8 2008, 08:04 PM Post #1
Chairman of Advanced Thinkers Posts: 67 Group: Member Member #49 Joined: October 8, 2008	I feel one of the things that I am worst at in RPs is character creation. For this thread I want to start by creating a situation for people to build characters for. I hope then that someone will post a character then purpose a different situation. If a good situation that people like arrives we can make it a RP. Situation: The world is old, it is slipping slowly into death. Some say the earth even shrikes in pain as men fight on it's surface for the few remaining resources. Explosions burst around, shells fly, and bullets fly in every witch way. A shell hits a HL-5836 drop ship, causing it to spiral to the ground. Flames rush around the hull as it smashes against the barren waist it turns aflame, only one man makes it out alive... Edited by Colton C, October 10 2008, 04:05 PM.



Nick	October 11 2008, 07:07 PM Post #2
Boardman of Advanced Thinkers Posts: 25 Group: Member Member #52 Joined: October 9, 2008	Andrew made the cross symbol across his torso. His faith kept him strong. With death a distinct possibility, it was always good to keep the Lord in mind. "Ah, a Christian, I see. Good to know we have someone else here praying for our safety." "What?" Andrew spat on the ground. "I have no use for your made up Jehovah,I worship a higher power, my god, I am a Noodle." "...what?" "A Noodle. A follower of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Have you never heard of us? I am not suprised. Too few have found the true faith in life. Too few have felt his noodly appendage on their hearts." The man turned away from him and never spoke to Andrew again. Andrew loved messing with people. All his life he had been a prankster. This was the first time he had had to do anything serious, being drafted into the army. The gun felt strange in his hands, to think, he'd be doing something real for once. Scenario: Scientists have made a massive breakthrough in genetics. Germ line gene therapy has been perfected. For anyone willing to pay, people can have their future children to be genetically enhanced in whatever way they want. The first generations of Customs (custom people) frightened the population. Their perfection in beauty and physical prowess were impressive but frightening. They were practically superheroes. They were the best at everything they did. Normal people couldn't compete. Soon, there was hatred for them. The hate built up so much the government soon banned genetic altering. Now, it can only be done in side alley operations, which are incredibly dangerous and ultimately fruitless. The remaining Customs are now hated by the normals for their perfection. -Sorry for forgetting to post my scenario. Edited by Nick, October 11 2008, 07:39 PM.



Colton C	October 11 2008, 07:10 PM Post #3
Chairman of Advanced Thinkers Posts: 67 Group: Member Member #49 Joined: October 8, 2008	Nice reply, yet you forgot to leave us a scenario to continue. Please do that. Edit: This statement is now void. The author went and edited a scenario in. Edited by Colton C, October 11 2008, 07:40 PM.



Jakob Gray	October 15 2008, 07:03 PM Post #4
The Gray Ranger Posts: 17 Group: Member Member #32 Joined: August 23, 2008	Johan wished his complexion wasn't so perfect. Wherever he went, a finger and a scowl would point his way, followed by the hated words. Custom. His flaxen hair and goatee weren't out of the ordinary. But his physical strength was obvious. He carried himself like a juggernaut, though the five foot nine, one hundred and forty pound thirty year old had never hurt anyone in his life. His perfect grades in school, his almost getting the perfect job..... the past eight years of his life had been hell in a jar, and working at an Olympia Sports was not his idea of living a happy life. Scenario: It's Los Angeles, CA. A terrorist has poisoned the water supply for the entire state. The nearest clean water supply is hundred of miles away. In just days, people are paying 5 dollars for a gallon of water. The situation is falling apart as a few murders are commited, and the national guard is sent in. Even then, the situation is not under control. Could anarchy really result in the loss of a little water ?



Zac	November 5 2008, 07:25 PM Post #5
Posts: 5 Group: Member Member #71 Joined: November 3, 2008	Miles Jordanski was the mayor of Los Angeles, but he was born in New York, a factor which was violently obvious in his accent. And right now, he was wishing he had listened to his dad and become a banker. He sat at his desk in silence, his forehead rested on a fist, grinding his teeth quietly as no less than eight supervisors argued over each other's already shouting voices. They were rambling on, throwing about keywords such as: 'rescue package' and 'military coup'. Miles dug his thumbs into his eyeballs. Why did he need eight fucking supervisors? And since when did 'Mayor' mean "guy who hires dumb law school assholes to make the important decisions for him"? He had been doing this shitty job for way too long. After this was all over, maybe he'd retire? Move to somewhere sane, like Cuba or some small, desolate island in the Caribbean. But, he would have to deal with the bullshit currently on his desk before he could seriously begin to think about retirement. He returned his fists to the desk with a loud thud that silenced the eight arguing men for a moment. "Shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down." He said loudly, indicating the seats which the men had risen from five minutes ago in an attempt to better convey their points, more to each other than to him. "You guys will make the calls, I'll do the talking, clear?" He didn't wait for a nod. It was time to sweep up some major shit. This was going to cost money, and would mean trouble for him, and the new president. This would make for one grand, messy finale. Scenario: Arkham, Massachusetts, 1933. Gale force winds and torrenting floodwater surrounds you as Hurricane Blakely approaches the east coast. It has blocked exit from the state, and rescue will not be an option as they are tied up with neighbouring states. You have two choices: lie low in Arkham, which the hurricane will pass directly over and hope for the best, or drive east to the relative safehouse that is Innsmouth. Sure, it's a bad town, but it can't be much worse than dying in a cellar as water crashes in around you, or having a car thrown at you by the wind, can it?



Jade Catima	January 13 2009, 11:00 PM Post #6
Posts: 1 Group: Member Member #89 Joined: January 13, 2009	Maria Johnson glanced nervously at the sky, watching as the clouds grew darker. It was almost twilight - at two in the afternoon. The wind was already howling outside, whistling through the nooks and crannies of the old house in warning of the storm to come. "Are we leaving?" she asked, walking away from the window while rubbing her hands in worry. She paced across the small, cramped living room to sit next to Wesley on the couch. Her older brother furrowed his brow in worry. "I don't know..." he replied sadly. "Reason keeps telling me I should, but if we leave this late, we might get caught in the storm. I'd rather wait it out here than in the old car." He looked away, and Maria stared at her shaking hands. They had to make a decision, and fast - or else... Suddenly, Wesley stood. Looking at Maria with new intent in his eyes, he said boldly, "Let's go." Maria leaped to her feet, rubbing her hands nervously again. Wesley grabbed his coat, handed Maria hers, and tentatively opened the front door leading to the harsh outside. After opening it an inch, it was ripped from his hands, slamming against the side of the house as the wind shrieked through. Grabbing Maria's hand, he led her around the side of the house to the car, waiting impatiently in the driveway. Both of them hurriedly got in, Wesley in the driver's seat, Maria next to him. Wesley grabbed at the keys in the ignition and gave them a quick twist. Nothing. He tried it again, a bit more forcefully this time. The car whined, and then was silent. Two more times Wesley frantically attempted to get the car started, but to no avail. He turned to Maria, his face pale. "I guess we're waiting it out here," he said, his voice trembling. ((Sorry if that was a bit long... >.<)) Scenario: War is sweeping across Lakna, a large but relatively unpopulated mountain country. Their neighbor, the country of Kelan, has raised up its army in an attempt to take over the world and put it under their own regime. As Lakna is so huge, it has taken them awhile to cross it, but they are about to succeed. In the small mining town of Yonoka, the first taste of war has come in the form of a Kelan scout group. These people are not accustomed to or ready for war - what are they supposed to do when it comes to them?



ZeikHunter	January 21 2009, 03:04 AM Post #7
Posts: 19 Group: Member Member #91 Joined: January 19, 2009	Samuel sat in his cart whose tracks went over a tavern. He stopped it for a moment and looked to the streets. Some men dressed in uniform bearing the Kelan insignia were searching around the town. Sam was suspicious, so he switched the tracks to ride straight to the ground floor and used the lever to slowly pull his cart away and down the slope. As he skidded to a halt in front of a tunnel, a couple of the Kelans inspected his vehicle. Samuel looked up at them. One of the uniformed men questioned him. "Why aren't you inside, kid? We've ordered a curfew while we scout the land." Sam stood up. If it weren't for the cart's wheels, he would be looking at them eye-to-eye. "Why do you want to know about the land? Are you planing a battle or something?" He grabbed a buckle on each side of his strapped jeans and pulled them up to look less like a punk. That would be hard with the overall-black garb. The officer looked at his comrades, who shook their heads and shrugged. "I can't lie, boy. We are," said the main speaker of the group. He lifted Sam out of the cart (a feat since Sam weighed the same as the soldier) and kicked the cart into the tunnel. He let go but made sure Sam wouldn't run by sticking up his gun. "Do you expect us to show hospitality when you point your gun at the mayor's son?" He was good at bluffing. The soldier sweat a bit and sweeped his gun toward the tavern. The scouts went in to prepare for the home team's arrival. Sam looked glum and walked home. He heard shouting and foul language, then gun fire. Sam took a walking stick and slammed it into the wood. That would be the place he was when the Kelans took over. Scenario: A vast forest is appearing from an ancient temple spreading out. Villages are being separated and animals in the forest are sparse. Some towns have been uprooted by plants that sprout out of nowhere and crush buildings. What's worst is that vinebreds - corrupted villagers covered in plant - are beginning to make an uprising. What makes the fauna insane and what's going to happen to the people? Edited by ZeikHunter, January 21 2009, 10:40 AM.



Tormented Sights	April 1 2009, 01:33 AM Post #8
Posts: 0 Group: Member Member #100 Joined: March 31, 2009	Alex stood a couple hundred yards away from the village. Everything was quite and at a standstill it seemed. The eerie absence of everything was starting to get on his nerves. His eyes flickered around, looking—no hoping—to find something other than the overgrowth of the plants. He sucked in a breath of air as he looked around and crept forward, following the path of the vines to their source. His hand tightened around the knife holstered at his waist. What good it would do was another question he so desperately wanted the answer to. There was no time to ask questions, the elders of the village had said to make haste, and so he did. The further he got into the forest, the thicker the vines got and the darker it seemed to get. Snap. He stopped dead in his tracks and glanced around for whatever seemed to be out there. Slowly his hand withdrew the knife from his waist. He crouched low to the ground as he lunged forward in a sprint. The vines came at him; too smart for a plant. Sidestep right. Jump to the left. Speed on through forward. His eyes widened as he came to a quick halt, sliding several feet. He dropped his knife in the process. Catching his breath, he quickly grabbed his knife and got to his feet. His jaw dropped as he took a few more steps forward, shaking his head. In front of him lay an industrial factory. Pipes billowed out of it and polluted the stream below it. That stream hydrated a majority of the forest and flowed through a majority of the villages that ran along by it. He shook his head as he stumbled back. There was no way he would be able to fix this all on his own. But how was he to fix this if all were going mad and being corrupted by the plant? Chances were that he would succumb to the madness himself before he could come up with a solution. It looked like no easy answer and no easy solution. This was it. This was the end. Scenario: In the not so distant future, the world is rife with disease. One single company is on the verge of nailing not only cures, but vaccinations and ways to exterminate them from existence. At the heart of it all, rumors swirl over how these cures are coming. An inside man secretly contacts the authorities to discuss and shed light.



Skallagrim	April 2 2009, 11:38 AM Post #9
Posts: 0 Group: Member Member #101 Joined: March 31, 2009	Deep in the hidden tombs a form stirred and shifts. Slowly the obsidian eyelids fluttered and flickered open, the umber glow from the large eyes indicated a malignancy that spanned eons. Slowly a long arm shot upward into the darkness of the tomb, to grasp the edge of the granite sarcophagus. The audible exhale of trapped air, which had been compressed in lungs that had not been used in millennia, filled the silent chamber with the sounds of life long since forgotten. Rising, the Jackal headed creature peered around the area, the umber eyes flaring and casting off a glow that shaded the hideous muzzle, highlighting the eerie creature visage. Long, lean limbs touched the cold stone floor, the talons screeching against the hard surface as the toes gripped and eased slowly, testing the strength that had been unused for so long the creature feared the limbs would collapse. The wrap that circled the lean waist of the creature swished slightly as the creature moved towards the large door that had been blocked with stones of immense weight and size. Standing before the stones Akram placed long fingered hands against the stones, testing them, a odd little yip escaped the black lips as the being looked at the frame, running his fingers along the edges, then with a howl that filled and echoed through out the tomb, Akram leaned against the stones. The muscles coiled and flexed as they exerted strength that had lay dormant, slowly the stones inched backward, dust dislodged and floated in the air, streaming from the edges they had accumulated over the centuries. Then with a groan of protest the stones gave way as the block slide and tumbled backward, the black from that followed it keep up the pressure until the ancient air of the tomb was greeted and carried by the winds of the desert. The sunlight cast its harsh light on the newly revealed tomb, and the dusky skinned, jackal headed man that stood in the gloomy entrance, slowly breathing in the hot, lung scorching air. Scenario: The ends days have come to pass. The vast magnetic energy lines that criss cross the world erupt as the thin veil between worlds shreds apart. The many worlds where magic and science have merged and overlaid themselves upon the modern earth. Winged horrors and ancient myths have come to life to walk the world that is reeling from the changes, sharing the world with advanced sciences and alien races.



ZeikHunter	June 18 2009, 01:20 AM Post #10
Posts: 19 Group: Member Member #91 Joined: January 19, 2009	"Oh son of a gun, that's huge!" yelled Jason as he looked out the window of his classroom. It was only 8:00 AM and he had prep at the high school. He had an hour to grade the Social Studies papers, but he knew that with this catastrophe he wouldn't have time. As he undid the tie around his neck to reduce his panic-enduced sweat, he looked out the window again. It looked just like a gryffin, and it was across the soccor field on the other side of the parking lot. Mr. Richardsen got a phone call as he peered through the blinds of his window. He leaned back, replaced his glasses, and answered his class phone. "Uh, hello. Mr. Richardsen, uh, speaking." "Jason, it's me, Tim. Have you seen that creature outside?" It was Mr. Greene, the science teacher in the floor above. He was watering plants in the greenhouse adjacent to his classroom when the gryffin landed. Jason was getting so hot from sheer terror that he took off his sweater vest, leaving the green shirt and slacks. "Uh, yes. It appears to be, uh, a gryffin," Mr. Richardsen replied. He walked over and pulled the blinds up so he didn't have to walk over every time. He listened for Mr. Greene, but before either of them could speak, the high school was veiled by the shadow of a gargantuan vehicle. "Oh my!" Jason shouted into the phone. He could hear panic outside his door as students were escaping for their homes along with fellow teachers. "That's incredible! It's... it's a spaceship!" Tim Greene exclaimed as it covered the glass in darkness. He dropped the phone and ran from the greenhouse to his classroom to the stairs and outside. Jason saw the car going down the bus lane and sighed. "Oh of course." He hung up the phone and watched outside. The gryffin was just as scared as another ship moved over the neiborhood to the east. He looked at his teacher edition of the Social Studies I book. "What's today's, uh, date?" He turned around where his TA wrote the date, then looked at the book. "Of course, of course..." Jason looked out the window for the last time as chaos ensued: looting, fires, panic, and monstrosities. He read the date that the cultures of his book had predicted the end of the world. "It's written in the, uh, cards." Scenario: It's the year 201X and all around the globe, people with the blood type of AB have been developing strange mutations in an epidemic fashion. Authorities are being overwhelmed by these new superhumans who have made up their minds: AB or bust.



gangreen88	June 23 2009, 01:02 PM Post #11
Posts: 0 Group: Member Member #141 Joined: June 23, 2009	George watched as the last one of the mutants wat cut down. Theye were becoming increasingly violent and had recently started destroying small towns rather than there normal skirmishes. We thought they just went mad and either craved death or were otherwelmed by blood lust but they have been showing signs of intelegence recently. Its as if someone has been directing them. They attack in small numbers and frequently rather than the large mobs that we were accustomed to and never thought among themselves anymore. Suddenly George was awaken from his wonderings by a hand gripping his waist. He looked down to see pale flesh, covered in giant red blisters and soaked in thick blood, already beggining to conjeal. The smell was sickening and it was only panic that stoped Gearge loosing his lunch. He leapt backwards and pulled out his pistol but when he prepared to shoot and looked into the mutants eyes, they were wet with tears. He had never seen a mutant cry before but there was no doubt that that was what it was doing. It let out a low groan, salty tears washing the blood and dirt from its cheeks. All he could do was stare at it, all alone in a field of corpses, and he just stared, feeling so helpless and allone. Eventualy the creature stopped, its eyes glazed over, and at that point he sat down, with his head in his hands deep in thought. What was he doing, killing withought a thought for the enemy, maybie, deep down, they were still human, just fighting to be aaccepted, because fighting is all that we will let them do, and then, he cried, he cried for his wife who had secumbed to the disease, for his brother, torn apart by mutants, but he also cried for the countless he had killed, withought a though. Scenario: Its a new age and pirate like galleons now glide accros the skys with the aid of balloons fulll of super boyant gas. Normaly they sail smoothly through the clouds, blowing in the wind, but today theres a storm, and yesterday there was a storm, for the last 5 months there have been storms, but its getting worse.
Posts: 0 Group: Member Member #141 Joined: June 23, 2009


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