Character Creation Chain

[David Evil Overlord]

The super villains didn't know her real name was Selena. They only knew her by her code name of Mercury. The media assumed it was an allusion to the Greek god credited with carrying messages to the other gods at speeds that would have shamed the fastest email.

The media also assumed that taking a super hero whose skintight costume made it clear she was female, and saddling her with the name of a male God was a typical snafu by the bureaucrats at the Post Human Office.

They were wrong.

Selena had super speed. But that wasn't why she was called Mercury. Not the whole reason, anyway.

Doctor Apocalypse discovered the real reason when he caught her in one of his high tech death traps. Super speed, he reasoned, was no advantage if she had nowhere to run. And if that was the only power she possessed, he would have been correct.

Doctor Apocalypse opened the vault-like door and peered into the coffin-sized trap. The chainsaws, lasers and flamethrowers had left nothing but a liquid-silver stain at the bottom of the trap. Strange, but not unprecedented, considering the inherent strangeness of superhuman biology.

It was only after he turned his back on an obviously dead hero that Mercury started to rise...

Asparagus Pete

 

[Mith]

He was an inoffensive looking little man; thinning hair, stooped shoulders and the beginning of a mid-life spread. Nobody would have guessed he was number one on Interpol's most wanted list. Nobody would have guessed he was the infamous serial killer "Asparagus Pete". So called by the worlds media for his calling card, stuffing a stalk of asparagus up the nostrils of his every victim.

He stood at the entrance to the Vatican, cleaning his bifocal lenses and wondering ... could he really add the Pope to his list?

Tarquin Henry Ward-Bowles

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

Tarquin Henry Ward-Bowles, third Earl of Morryberne, held his epee above his head and lifted his face protector. "Well played, old sport!" The young lord grinned and waved to his opponent. "Blast me if I don't beat you yet, just wait and see." Ward-Bowles lowered his sword and turned to the crowd assembled on the lawn. "Brandy and cigars in the library, gents, tea and cakes in the drawing room, ladies." As he trotted off to his mansion, he wondered what they might think of the secret errand he planned to undertake, tonight in a dingy gin mill in Whitechapel.

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Doctor Halftree

 

[BenSt]

Doctor Halftree, who's surgery was down Pennycoat lane, was a mild mannered GP whom during the day looked at children and pregnant ladies, men's gout and young men's broken noses. However, during the evening he was the best of the best in his chosen fields: Insect bite pathology, the growth cycles of the Nubian SandOrm, the toxicology of petunias, and 'Where on Earth is Prunella Scales?" (oweing to his having implanted a GPS tracking device on the British actress after a certain raucous affair in the Highstreet one late saturday evening in 1978, which came as quite a shock to her believe you me!.)

Halftree was often asked by the police to assist in strange cases involving poisonings, identifying marks on corpses possibly left by insects, and one very bizarre case where a man impersonated as the British actress Prunella Scales whilst robbing a bank... luckily Halftree's GPS proved that it was not her (as did the fact that the criminal genius failed to shout 'Fawlty' in a sufficient enough screech.) In his most famous case, however, Halftree was pitted against his archnemesis, the technologically advanced Dentist, Dr. Fullshrub. Fullshrub, who had flunked out of medical school and had never gotten over it, had attempted to implant mind-control dentures into senior members of the Royal Family. Luckily, the plan was foiled when one such royal came to see Halftree for a case of gout, who saw an insect bite from a rare south american variety of arachnid... and one thing led to another.

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Yellow Songbird

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

They call me Yellow Songbird. Yeah, I know it's a silly name, but my parents were neo-hippies, OK? They probably never even saw a bird, spending all their lives inside the CanMex arcosystem, long after the big meltdown. So they dreamt of wilderness and made up stories about wildlife that didn't exist anymore. It could be worse. You should meet my brother, Blue Rose.


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Apprentice Hapcourt

 

[TitaniumTi]

"Apprentice Hapcourt?"

"Yeah. That's me. Hang on a second... Sorry about that. You caught me in the middle of wyrm-whispering. A very tricky task, wyrm-whispering. You have to soothe the wyrmlets, so that they don't leave the nest too soon, but you have to be careful that they don't bond with you. A misbonded wyrmlet makes the client very unhappy."

"Oh, and you have to watch out that the parent wyrms don't catch you anywhere near the nest, or they're likely to eat you. You really can't afford to become distracted."

"Aaghh!"


Gideon Rabbleraiser

 

[lonewolfwanderer]

Gideon Rabbleraiser was an odd man. His nose was crooked and his teeth stood skew. He tried in vain to grow a mustache but ended up with something resembling a shaved rat, and he was often seen picking his nose or getting something out of his hair. Whatever was left of his hair, that is.

Despite all of this, he had a sharp tongue. One that could haggle the clothes off your back if you weren't too careful. His fingers were quick too. Quicker than a flash of lightning to the untrained eye. This proved fatal for those wearing belts because Gideon Rabbleraiser was a belt collector, and for too many a time he has left some poor bystander struggling to keep his pants up.


Juk

 

[ethelredtheunredey]

Phallimus Consequence

Phallimus (or Dick to his friends) was a hardworking, hard praying Quaker man. Standing 6" 3 and weighing 17 stone of muscle he bowed to enter rooms, low beamed. Doorways would not ripple so he hunched and slotted himself in. His spiritual guider was a wizened little old lady with a knack for chess and the handling of gentle giants. Under her tutelage the vegetable and herb gardens became his sanctuary in a world built for smaller people. Looking nothing so much like a wll stitched into a plain shirt and trousers he'd hum 'All creatures Great and Small' to himself while tending to sage, cradling new potatoes and wielding the hoe like it was a twig in hands shaped as spades.
Contrary to popular belief in Quaker pacifism he was capable of violence in the service of peace- like a boulder rolling down hill, like a cup filled drip to drip till spillage. A bear of a man, with a hibernation temperament but claws nonetheless. Thatched red hair, ever untamed sat upon a square face with wide green eyes an a forever sunburned face. A man of few words, words weighed and spent like a misers coin.


Fallon 'The Dice' Mallory



for gods sake I'm pages behind...ignore....

 

[ethelredtheunredey]

Gideon Rabbleraiser was an odd man. His nose was crooked and his teeth stood skew. He tried in vain to grow a mustache but ended up with something resembling a shaved rat, and he was often seen picking his nose or getting something out of his hair. Whatever was left of his hair, that is.

Despite all of this, he had a sharp tongue. One that could haggle the clothes off your back if you weren't too careful. His fingers were quick too. Quicker than a flash of lightning to the untrained eye. This proved fatal for those wearing belts because Gideon Rabbleraiser was a belt collector, and for too many a time he has left some poor bystander struggling to keep his pants up.


Juk

Juk

Juk. Fifth iterant of the Senderi Tyrant line group. Spawned during the Grantar Secession in a huddled dark clone creche chamber bored into the rock of an unknown suns outer debris field. Juk was a grav-adapt, long fingers where toes should be, hyper dense chimp analogue musculature, nictitating membranes on the eyes to shut out vacuum and glare. The usual array of sockets and headfull of arcane loom-like machinery.

He was born on the wrong side of a war, the winning side in a hastily negotiated peace where neither side admitted to their violations of the First Ethical Code. Forgotten and left with only the service mechs as friends he developed an almost autistic self absorption. Picked up in his 25th year by a trader of dubious moral standing and trained in hard docking, EVA repairs and illegal HE3 mining. Currently listed as 'person of interest' by two planetary authorities and implicated in the EverStar Liner robbery, the Shaltern Massacre and a host of smaller actions. Whip thin and baby-bald, favours the loose black silky pyjamas of the ancient Viet Cong.




Fallon 'The Dice' Mallory

 

[TitaniumTi]

"Yes, I know Fallon Mallery." Worse luck. "I met him when he was doing the preaching circuit on the sunless side of Armegus-IV. He's a vicar in the Harmonist order."

"Truatworthy? I guess so. Although- Well, you know what those circuit preachers are like." Except Fallon's not your typical circuit preacher. He really believes all that guff about honesty and generosity.

"His nickname? I understand that he had a sideline with the dice at one time." Yeah, he used them to illustrate the vagaries of chance, when he was speaking hogwash about 'there but for the grace of God'.

Yarmeremup

 

[ethelredtheunredey]

"Yes, I know Fallon Mallery." Worse luck. "I met him when he was doing the preaching circuit on the sunless side of Armegus-IV. He's a vicar in the Harmonist order."

"Truatworthy? I guess so. Although- Well, you know what those circuit preachers are like." Except Fallon's not your typical circuit preacher. He really believes all that guff about honesty and generosity.

"His nickname? I understand that he had a sideline with the dice at one time." Yeah, he used them to illustrate the vagaries of chance, when he was speaking hogwash about 'there but for the grace of God'.

Yarmeremup

Yarmeremup was the fourth daughter of a tribal elder in an insignificant fenland clan. Like her fathers before her she poled a light craft through the ever-shifting landscape, spearing eels to harvest the hallucinogenic ink sacs, chopping reeds to weave with. Speaking at length with the eating willows. In the Sespirian conflict where a group of aggressive hegemonic nations attempted to pacify and drain the fens she led the tribal resistance that came to be known by its enemies as 'The Marshland Dogs'. Favours poison blowdarts and the wrong end of an oar as weapons. Skin stained green by a persistent yet benign parasite that affect two thirds of the fenland clans.

Last known location was an internment camp outside of New Rome, after a viscous outbreak of blood fever among the guards she vanished from Sespirian records along with 1500 of the fenfolks most dangerous.


Dennis Farneshaw

 

[farntfar]

Dennis Farneshaw owned the winkle stand on the sea front at Canvey Island.
Tourists were generally amused by the sign on the front, which read
1st in a long line of winkle mongers since the 13th century.

In reality Dennis was a sandwight who had not long had the stall.
For he had been evicted by surveyors forBoris Johnson’s proposed new airport on Maplin Sands.

Sandwights, as very few know, live in reverse-time.
So after a bit of research in the local library, he knew that the last of his line, Sir Clarence Farneshaw would die childless during the crusades.



Karesh the unbegat.

 

[BenSt]

Karesh the Unbegat, once Emperor of the Kartosian Empire, founder of the Joval Dynasty who died in 325MN during the Seige of Beristol. His soul was so corrupt and defiled by death that it did not peacefully move on, but like a miasma continued to haunt the world. Many years after his death, reemerging from a chaotic nightmare his disembodied spirit came across the corpse of a begger and possessing it began attacking people. However, he could not hold onto a corpse for long and so limped around the countryside taking control of dead bodies every so often. It was at this time that a necromancer, sensing Karesh's spirit, came searching finding him in the body of a farmer in the process of mutilating the farmer's poor family. Trapping the powerful spirit, the Necromancer tamed Karesh to his will and brought a sense of civility to the dead warlord. Tied to the Necromancer, Karesh became a familiar until eventually being shown how to posess living bodies. It was at this time that the Necromancer and Karesh joined and took on the title, 'the Unbegat'.

--

Madame Moop

 

[ethelredtheunredey]

Madame Moop was as parisian as only the recent incomer can be. Marseilles accents became the polished incisive phrases beloved of the most self-centred city on earth. When new to the city she would sigh with wonder at that great vulgar secular spire and dream 'one day' she'd think while fishing in an oversized medical bag for he reticule 'one day I shall make a man climb that. For I am Madame Moop and I brook no dissent'. With this thought she would powder herself and read again from focault. Beauty and learning cherie, beauty and learning. So said the one eyed dockside leering pirate of Marseilles. Message delivered by a brute but true for all that.

Sinistral Gyal Dem

 

[TitaniumTi]

Sinistral Gyal Dem

"A messenger just delivered this."

"What is it?"

"A summons to an audience with Sinistral Gyal Dem. Do we go?"

"Of course. It's an opportunity. The first opportunity that's come our way since we arrived on planet. Nothing else, in almost three months."

"An opportunity. An opportunity to be eaten, more like. Have you heard what they say about her?"

"Yes. She's the chosen one, the only Dem with a left-handed shell. Also, she's so beautiful that no-one dares to look at her. If they do look at her, the iridescent patterns of the shell draw them in, until they slide down its curves into her maw. So, we won't look at her."

"You think? They also say that the light from her shell draws the eye irresistibly. And that she particularly likes the flavour of astrogators. Says all that time at low grav makes the meat tender."


Eleanor Norseman

 

[Jester85]

The sentries stepped to either side, backs stiffening in instinctual deference, and a middle-aged woman with close-cropped but artfully arranged blond hair whom I instantly recognized as Senator Eleanor Norseman stepped in. Her immaculate pale blue power suit fit the stark white corridor, and her heels clicked hollowly on the marble floor.

"I hope my men have not unduly inconvenienced you," she greeted in an accent that was American, but with some indefinable trace of foreignness in her diction.

Her face was technically handsome but hard and closed, and her blue eyes glinted like chips of ice, but she offered her hand delicately. Her shake was light, quick, businesslike. Impersonal.

Norseman turned her thin lips into a smile whose light wouldn't reach her eyes for a million years. "We have much to talk about."

Gysbert Freeborn

 

[ethelredtheunredey]

Eleanor Norsman was forever to be found beneath the hooves of warhorses. Scratching symbols in the earth beneat the fetlocks of beasts so war-trained the hostlers struggled with them, iron shod and caparisoned for war. And there would be Eleanor Norsman, between the hooves of the mightiest.

She grew thus feared as a witch and never gave up those scribbles in the dirt. Only by adulthood she'd close her eyes and sketch the patterns in her mind. Oft people died. But horses would not. Not even the oldest most arrogant horse of the Lords stable. For Eleanor he'd bend knee and make annoyed noises through his comical horse nose. Patterns and power and iron and dust and stable-smell when you are but a child. Young women of the noble houses are not supposed to do hedge-magic animal trickery. But she had the knack.

Destraent Filgree


balzac, Jester got in before me. Go with his name people. Lineage must be respected after all

 

[Jester85]

Destraent Filgree

An unreliable mechanic and buyer and seller of decrepit space vessels, Destraent Filgree fancies himself a flamboyant adventurer of the galaxy's outer rim, but is actually a grubby parasite who will rob the unwary tourist blind and send them on a space journey on a rusty bucket of guts threatening to come apart at the seams.

His swindling ways have gotten him kicked off several worlds, and chased by a few angry clients, but Destraent Filgree is a ghost...an identity to be used and discarded along the long list of names before him, and by the time the client or the authorities come knocking, "Filgree" will be merrily hawking his wares under another name in another corner of the cosmos.

Vash Peyati II

 

[Jester85]

I already did Filgree, so the next person can skip Gysbert Freeborn and pick up with Vash Peyati, just to keep things moving and from getting confused.

 

[BenSt]

Vash Peyati

Ambassador to the court of Jadarika IV Gomalastis, Emperor of Malador. Peyati hailed from the rival neighbouring domains of the Gregarii, and was the second son of a wealthy senator. Upon arriving in Malador's capital, Peyati wrote... "...Hardly a single person is clothed in less than the finest of cottons, each wearing gold and silver as though they were trifles. The stalls are lined with goods from the farthest corners of the world, and the shop keepers have the most peculiar coloured faces...everything from our own dark brown to the palest of pinks. My audience with His Divine Majesty was set for later that day, and until then I amused myself moving in and out of the markets, libraries and theaters...."

Peyati's audience with the Emperor went exceedingly well, and over the first few months he built a strong rapport with the Imperial family. He was assigned to Malador for five years, a capable emissary for his small but important republic. Sadly for Peyati, after being suggested for a senatorial position he was killed when Yorack raiders attacked the ship he had been travelling aboard and he was viciously killed.

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Ka'al