In the early time of the Egyptian empire when the jungle of the Nile was still lush and the people truly understood and worshiped their gods there was a Pharaoh king known to all as Maat he was praised as the chosen not just because he claimed to be so, but because he was the avatar of the gods. They acted through him. It was through his service to the gods that the Egyptian empire was founded and civilization took hold in the first great empire.
Feeling he had completed his work the gods told him to enter a slumber until the time that he would be needed. Maat was sure that it would not be long for the people always called upon his service. Taking a slumber in a great sarcophagus Maat was magically put under a slumber until the day the ancestral tomb was breached by any but its guardians. That however did not happen. The gods had underestimated the jealousy of men and as any record of Maat was stripped from their histories the new line of pharaohs chose to serve the gods directly themselves while the avatar slumbered. When the time came that the needed him, the jungle went dry as the Sarhara became a desert. Still he slept, great feuds and wars broke out, and still he slept, through famine and war, the avatar slept. No one was aware he was there, and he was left forgotten for centuries.
Thousands of years passed before Maat ever saw the light of day again, and when it occurred it was simply by chance. The Iron Empire had spread its way across Western Europe and northern Africa and made their way through the Nile plains and the ancestral homeland of Egypt. They slowly made their way through each and every artifact left behind looking for items of Dracula's interest. Looking for anything his enemies could use against him. It was only a matter of time until some unknowing vampire breached the walls of the Ancient Temple of Maat. It was at that moment the ancient Avatar was brought awake and his connection to his gods restored. Looking about the temple he could immediately notice its desecration. Something was not right.
Dirt...dust? How dare they neglect to service my chamber... ahh yes they could not without waking me. I am sure it is just a matter of presenting myself to my people. There must be work to do... they always were pretty helpless after all.
There was no one waiting for him as he left the chamber, at least not at first. As he walked down the dark unlit passageway Maat was faced with the truth, the tomb had been neglected. It wasn't until he saw the first vampire that he saw the true disparity of things. Seeing the silhoutte he called to the man.
"Ahh there you are... what has happened? Could you not afford to light my passage, this is really unbecoming of..."
It was then that the creature shrieked and attacked. In a moment Maat channeled the power of his gods and let them act through him taking on the form of the Jakkal he dodged out of the way of the vampire and sliced its neck nimbly. Rushing through the tomb he was met by one vampire after another as he moved through them agily. He finally met a group at a large audience chamber where he channeled the crocodile enhancing his strength and throwing them about while ending them with his powerful jaws. When he came upon the last he lifted it up and pinned it to the wall.
What is the meaning of this... where are my people? I am to be praised not chased like some play thing..!
The vampire just met him with a smile and answered. "Everyone is prey to the Iron Empire, your people are nothing but slaves and cattle."
"So they do need me! I knew it!" Maat said as he cracked the vampire's neck and used his powerful jaws to tear him in two.
They were mere thralls, nothing within the ranks of the Iron Empire, but they had made a grave mistake... they had awoken the Avatar. Ascending to the sky Maat looked upon the desert in disappointment before looking up at the moon and launching himself upward as he transformed himself once again changing himself into the great falcon and taking to the sky.
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Last edited by WhovianBeast; Mar 29th, 2023 at 07:20 PM.
Name: Darsus Freedman, the Vampire Hunter Player: AlphaZ Hero Points: 5 (5/8/22) Kind: Human Physical description: Black hair, light brown skin, 5'7", lean, dressed in leathers under plated steel Country of Origin: the Iron Empire (just south of what used to be Turkey)
Initiative: +7
Powers: Enhanced senses, magic bow, exotic training (defenses and skills)
Backstory:
Darsus was born of the Freedman family under the crushing heel of the Iron Empire. Normally there is no better fate for children there than that of their mothers and fathers. However, his own parents found a tiny sliver of hope in a mysterious patron that claimed to follow Nova Religiosa and carried weapons and holy implements. He offered to take the child and raise him for a better life, one with its own dangers, but also with purpose where others are left with futility; A life lived for the good of all mankind.
Hardly four years old when he was taken in by Master Shem, the memory of his family and home before soon slipped away from Darsus and he was left only with the life of a Hunter. Together they traveled, worked, and trained, always hiding, always in secret. Master Shem was learned in the ways of magic, and though Nova Religiosa generally forbids its practice, Hunters of The Order have a tendency to bend the rules. In fact, one of the many secrets of The Order is the practice of rune crafting, a means by which to empower their weapons and create their signature badge, known as Vizram's Mark.
Darsus was 14 when he began crafting his own Mark, now a full decade spent on the Hunt with Master Shem. He'd never fought a monster himself, neither vampire nor fae, but rather was given books to study while Master Shem disappeared for hours or days at a time. Sometimes he returned barely alive, but always he returned. Until he didn't.
For three long years Darsus stayed in hiding, honing the craft he'd been taught and searching for rumors of Master Shem's final whereabouts. Finally he happened upon a small band of Hunters taking shelter in a ruined church, marked with the rune of Vizram. For almost a year they traveled and Hunted together, all the while sharing with him tales of his lost Master and Hunts of times past. But Hunters usually hunt alone and for good reason: eventually someone attracts attention.
The small company was disbanded and at least two of them were slain. Darsus never heard from the others again. But so goes the life of a Hunter, blessed with neither community nor safety. After hunting for another 5 years across Europe, mostly by himself, Darsus had finally had enough. Hunters aren't supposed to retire, and perhaps he would return to it someday, but he set his mind to cross the sea and live a life free of monsters for a while. In the New World it was said that the fae were kind and the vampires nowhere to be found. After almost two decades of studying and blood, Darsus sought to try his hand at something else.
"Let me see your Mark." The man asking must've been late 20s, or perhaps mid-20s and aging poorly. A rolled cigarette dangled idle and unlit from his chapped lips as he held out his hand expectantly. In the other was a custom revolver, not aimed precisely at Darsus but held vaguely in his direction. The carvings along the barrel and exaggerated finger plate were classic Hunter, though Darsus didn't know many of the runes. He pulled the badge from his coat, a metal symbol set in a leather back and carved with the iconic rune of Vizram, and handed it to the man with the pistol. He looked over it a long moment and then looked up at Darsus. "Sloppy."
"C'mon Westov, cut the kid a break." The girl who spoke up was small and pale and armed to the teeth. In contrast to Darsus' armor, she wore mostly cloth lined with a dozen leather belts and bandoliers, each full of long steel needles. He didn't like to imagine how she fought with those, but several had visible dark stains on the end. Obviously it was working for her. She took a step closer and peered over the man's shoulder. "Looks good to me."
Westov smirked. "I'm not allowed to have any fun?" He tossed the badge back to Darsus. "That's nice. Actually some pretty fine runework. Who taught you?" As Westov eased up, so too did the others. "Master Shem. I lost him three years ago. He was... particular about my runework. Very particular." Darsus didn't bother asking. He'd given up finding out what happened to old Shem sometime last year. "I think Mattoc has some stories about a Hunter named Shem. Maybe you can tell him a few." Darsus brightened up. Suddenly he had some kind of connection with the group, a connection back to Shem, and apparently he was being invited in.
The old church was made of bricks and stone long since toppled by cannons and age. It looked utterly empty save for the four Hunters, now five, without even a hint of nature creeping in. The air inside was as stale and forgotten as the place itself. Scattered around the rubble were the few supplies the Hunters kept with them, somewhat unpacked to suggest they'd been here at least a day. Darsus followed Westov all the way in as the others retreated to their makeshift camp. Spotting something as Westov holstered the gun, Darsus queried, "Is that Vizram's rune on your firearm?" He pulled it back out and spun the chambers with a grin. "Yes, yes it is."
They stopped in the middle and Westov gestured around. "Welcome to Fort Hopeful. Meet our family. I, as you heard, am Westov." One by one he pointed out the others, starting with the girl from before. "That is Lonya. She does not like hugs." Lonya whipped out a needle and juggled it menacingly with a glare at Westov. "Athos, our carpenter." He gestured towards a tall Spanish man with long hair and an etched hammer. Several wooden stakes dangled from his belt. He nodded, but didn't look up or speak. "And that, is Mattoc." The last man was probably late 40s, older than the others, with greying stubble and a well-lined face. Even so he seemed strong as he lifted his sturdy frame and the two broad blades on his back. He approached Darsus and nodded. "So you're the apprentice of Shem? I went on a hunt or two with him. Met some others that said the same. Come, sit, we have a lot to talk about."
For the first time he could remember, Darsus felt... welcome. Something like ease settled on him and it made him question. Shem had always said that Hunters work alone. At least they usually did. But here there was more than a lesson, more than books and runes and blades. Here there were people. They were Hunters, but didn't just act like Hunters. They acted like people. Like the people they were sworn to protect, for all the good it did. He followed Mattoc and settled in for the night, the week, the month, longer. It couldn't last long, and it wouldn't. But it lasted for a while. Stories were told, stories were made, and the memories he keeps to this day.
PL 11, 155/155 PP
Name: Kane (Kaniko) Munemori Player: Avner Hero Points: 1 (2/1/2022) Initiative: +6 Kind: Human (Japanese) Physical description: Kane is of japanese descent and has most of the look that would go with that lineage with an oriental complexion and features. His hair however is a stark white and he has a strange color to his irises that betray the other half of his mysterious lineage. Kane dresses finely typically in a long decrative coat with a collarless button down shirt underneath and either dress pants or Bushido style pants to allow for his art form. He has a large dragon tattoo going up his left arm and is never found without his katana or wakizashi swords favoring the longer katana. Country of Origin: Seiikin
Powers: Kane is a master Samurai and is well trained in the art of Bushido but has also tapped into a spiritual power from his mysterious lineage that allows him to summon a dragon ancestral guardian as well as incorporate divine powers into his blade forms.
"Gi"-Integrity. To do the right thing by yourself. A Samurai must be smart in making choices and always chose what is good for the clan. He will make the right choice even if left alone. Practice Gi in everything you do.
"Yuuki"-Bravery and courage. To show courage every moment of living, in danger or not.
"Jin"- Kindness and compassion. To show everyone kindness and show compassion for all regardless.
"Rei"- Politeness. Politeness is different in Japan, politeness is more than just being kind, its about caring about others, and some say it borders an almost love-like feeling.
"Makoto"- Honesty. Be true by the actions you show, and by the words you speak. Follow the laws of the universe and you will become a honest person.
"Meiyo"- To enjoy the honor. A Samurai must earn honor and enjoy it if he is to satisfying the codes of the Bushido.
"Chuugi"- To be loyal. To be trustful, loyal, and show these unconditionally to others.
Motivation: Doing Good: Kane wants to right the wrongs of his grandfathers rules since he has come across the poverty stricken lower class during his wandering.
Unknown Lineage: The bastard grandson of the Empeor does not know who his father is and has been cast out by his grandfather.
Complications
Honor: As a spiritual Guardian Gadian has a strict code of Honor
Identity: Gadian makes his home on Kane's left arm when he is not summoned.
Responsibility: Gadian is responsible for protecting his charge Kane
Name: Annie Dane Charlotte Rambles, alias The Conquistador Player: Drachenspirit Hero Points: 2 (06/14/22) Kind: Human
Physical description: Standing at 5'6" tall, and weighing around 148 lbs, she's got tanned skin and an athletic build. Her toned muscular physique is from working on her hobby of machine works, and her short cut sandy blonde hair is thus colored from spending a lot of time outdoors.
Country of Origin: Mississippi - Near the meeting borderlines of Kanata, New England, Appalachia, and MississippiRiviera
Mind over Machinery: Affliction 10 (12 pp) 3rd Degree: Controlled, Resisted by Fortitude, DC 20; Affects Objects Only, Burst Area: 30 ft radius sphere, DC 20, Indirect: Fixed point, directed away, Precise, Selective; Limited: Technology/Machinery, Limited Degree (third only) (Standard – Close – Instant)
Battlesuit: The Conquistador (60 pp) Removable (Indestructible) PEARL Armor: Immunity 6: Disease, Environmental Condition: Heat/Fire, Environmental Condition: Radiation, Poison, Suffocation: Drowning, Suffocation: Alien Atmosphere (Personal – Permanent), 6pp PEARL Armor: Protection 12, +12 Toughness, 12pp QUAKE: Damage 8 (28 pp) DC 24; Extended Range 4, Increased Range: ranged, Multiattack (Standard – Ranged, 3200/6400/12800 ft. – Instant) Quick Change – Suit: Feature ( 1pp)
Communication Rank 3 - Range: Across the Nation: Rapid, Subtle 1 (Encrypted), Limited 2: Requires Physical Contact with a Telegraph or Telegraph Wire, Distracting, 4pp
DWAIN - Array
..BLAST: Line Area Damage 9 (21 pp) DC 24; Line Area: 5’ wide by 30’ long, DC 19, Extended Range 2, Increased Range: ranged; Unreliable (5 Uses) (Standard – Ranged, 900/1800/3600 ft. – Instant), Dynamic
..2pp alt DOVE:Flight 7, Speed: 250 mph, .5 miles/round; Wings (propellers), Dynamic
..2pp alt REAPER: Enhanced STR 10, +10 STR
..2pp alt VICARS:=Senses 9 Direction Sense, Distance sense, Extended: Vision 2: x100; Extended: Hearing 2: x100, Infravision, Tracking: Infravision 1: -1 speed rank; Ultravision, Dynamic
Complications
Motivation: Thrills
Secret: Suit powered by ability to control machines Languages
Native Language
Annie has always had a way with these newfangled things called machines. She's an inventor. She has come up with some unique things, but to date she hasn't created anything for anyone else. She has repaired lots of machinery, and always seems to know just what is wrong with any machine she touches; gifted is the term folks use when referring to her. Strangely enough, she's a bit of an eccentric, and the neat things she has created, she keeps to herself. Though she's been approached by lots of people, wealthy investors and business savvy people, to share the secrets of her inventions, or create them something similar, she hasn't shown any interest in this to date.
Annie was born and raised in Mississippi, not far from the border with Kanata. Her father was a traveling silversmith and actually owns a small mine. Her mother is a singer and entertainer who travels with her father, performing from city to city.
Once the couple realized that their daughter not only loved trains, but machinery in general, they settled down in a city in Mississippi. The quickly realized their young daughter was somewhat following in her father's footsteps, and was something of a tinkerer. Instead of putting a stop to what some would call silliness in this day and age, her parents fed their daughter's ingenious and curious nature. She could fix most any kind of device and troubleshoot most any kind of machine or mechanical workings. This didn't help her socially.
To this day, she's always dressed more functional that stylish, creating a style all her own that just seems to add to her eccentric and odd reputation as some kind of genius inventor.
About a year ago, she had an idea when a few of her inventions helped her thwart a train robbery. She was traveling by train to go and test a fully enclosed helmet that she had invented to work underwater in a coal mine. She was quite certain it would work in any non breathable environment, but just wanted to be sure by testing it in the real world. She also had a long a new invention that she called, for lack of caring to think up a catchy name, Lightning Gloves.
When the would-be robbers tried to smoke out the guards car that led to the freight car where some gold was being carried, she donned her helmet, walked through the smoke, and quite literally shocked the thieves into submission.
The thrill from this was something she hadn't expected, but she knew she was hooked. She combined several of her inventions over the next couple of months to be contained in a suit that could do all kinds of fantastic things.
She stopped a bank robbery, took on a dozen fanatics that stole a Paddleboat, and even tracked down a cache of weapons stolen by a gang who were to sell them on the black market - fighting off several in the process.
When asked what she was called in her suited up fashion of fighting crime and injustice, she recalled stories she had been told by her father about their homeland. Tales of brave armored men who fought off the vampires so the people of their lands could escape so many centuries ago came to mind. And being told she was a descendant from one of those very men, she took the proud and almost forgotten name that they had called themselves and brought in back to life in her hero persona.
She is, "The Conquistador."
Though it is clear that a woman is inside, only a few know who it is, and so far, her reputation hasn't caught up with the woman behind the masked helm. All of this is thought to be not only incredible, but part of the genius of whoever is inside this suit. The secret is something only Annie knows, and it is something she is quite literally afraid to tell anyone. She fears that if people know, she'll be shunned at best, and hunted down and killed at worst. The secret is also the reason she can't share her inventions with anyone, or even sell any of them. So, she has to keep up the facade that she's just some genius and eccentric inventor who is tied up in their own thing and can't be bothered by others whims and wishes.
Annie discovered at an early age that she could make machines do whatever they were designed to do without using their own intended means of power. At first, she could just touch a wind up toy and it would work, without having to be wound. Practice led to her being able to just "Will" a mechanical device to work if it was within a few feet of her, though touching a device, by far, provided the strongest power source to it.
Out for a test flight after some more modifications, Annie spotted the cattle across the rail tracks a few miles ahead of the train. She almost gave it a nod and flew off, but decided to get a closer look. Since the train was coming at her, she closed to within a mile of the Cattle, and lit on a small hilly outcropping so she could start up her Variably Intuitive Chromatic Aberration Reducer SystemVICARS and get a closer look. Is it a curse always being right all the time in my assumptions?, she wondered.
Sure enough, there was a lame cow on the tracks and it wasn't going to be moving. It probably wouldn't derail the train, but she couldn't take that chance. She turned off her viewer and powered up Ducted Overpressure Vector EnginesDOVE again, and took off at maximum speed. She started slowing down when she reached the Engine and then did a quick turn to light atop the Engine roof.
That didn't work well with the steam coming from the stacks and the smoke from the coal burners, but she managed to get to one side enough to see the cow in the closing distance.
She powered up her Quickfiring Uniform Auto-Kinetic EnergizerQUAKE Gun, and then thought that her Ballistic Lightning Amplified by Sequential TransmissionBLAST would be better, so she switched to that. She had to wait until they were close, but the end result would be better.
Before she lost sight of the cow from her angle, she let loose with a blast from BLAST, and a line of energy that looked like lightning arced out and slammed into the cow.
The thing exploded better than she thought.
SUCCESS!
Then pieces of cow started raining down on the train and even her as the Train passed over where poor Betsy had been. Fortunately, her Steel-Alloyed Linen Lesion InterferenceSALLI Armor protected her from some decent sized chunks of flying beef.
Then the Train stopped. She did her best to clean the big chunks off the train and near the tracks using The Conquistador's Powered Energetic Armor Raiment - LightPEARL Suit and it's Rigid Energy Assisted Pneumatic Ergonomic ReinforcementREAPER strength.
Still, the conductor, engineer, and the nearby cowboys begin an argument between themselves and her as well on who would pay for the cow and damages. She said little, and finally just excused herself after just giving her name of 'The Conquistador' and flying off into the sunset - that didn't last long because she couldn't see a damned thing, so she took a tacking route like a sailing ship home.
At home, she got out of her suit with a neat little trick no one had seen by floating all the associated parts and pieces to a table. "That's gonna take hours to clean off", she lamented when noticing all the cow flesh speckled over a suit that only an inventor could love.
That gave her an idea and she finally thought up how to dehorn a cow in moments with a neat little device she had yet to create as she finished cleaning up Device Without Any Interesting NameDWAIN; which was of course, her nickname for the suit. She and the suit combined were 'The Conquistador', but separately they were DWAIN and Annie. Duh.
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Last edited by WhovianBeast; Jun 15th, 2022 at 02:50 AM.
Name: Anders, the Future Soldier Player: AlphaZ Hero Points: 1 Kind: Human Physical description: short-cropped black hair, strong features, head-to-toe cyber armor Country of Origin: the moon
Initiative: +2
Powers: high tech weapons and armor, drone assistant
Anders was born to save humanity. Which is kind of a lot of pressure. But there was never really a question of "if". In fact there were very few questions at all.
Like any human living in the 35th century, Anders was born and raised in a small community unit in the lunar base on the moon. However, while he was given a proper enough education, he was not destined to be a scientist or other mind-laborer as so many were before him. Even before he was born his fate had been decided. Anders would be a soldier.
Of course there's no real need for soldiers on the moon. There are no wars on that cold grey rock orbiting the earth. But they didn't plan to stay there forever. Vampires might have taken over the earth, but they weren't going to keep it. Humanity was preparing to take back their world, and Anders was going to be there when it happened.
His whole life carried this sort of glorious excitement, an air of "when the day comes". He learned all about the paradise on planet earth and spent his spare time in the library, staring at images from a world he'd never seen. One day he'd set foot on that great spinning ball of blue, and he'd clear the way for the rest of humanity to live there in peace and harmony forevermore.
At least, that was the story his parents told him. And his officers, as he went through rigorous physical and mental training. They had self-healing armor and fusion-powered weapons. They had energy shields and AI drones. What could stop them? What could possibly stand in the way of humanity's greatest achievement, the most poetic and beautiful story ever foretold?
Anders had a family. Parents and two brothers, one older and one younger. His older brother was in the program too. He shipped out first. The youngest might've joined the program too when he was old enough, but things didn't go like they said they would on the holovids. The war woke up a world of bloodthirsty vampires, and quickly they began to strike back.
New units kept getting sent out, but nobody who left ever came back. And they kept sending more. Though they tried to keep up spirits, bragging about how many vamps they'd kill on their first day, a weight hung over his unit as they finished training. They were constantly under bombardment. Every day was a new emergency. Waiting for their deployment began to feel like waiting for the guillotine.
Still, they had the energy shield. There'd been talk about a time gate, and he'd even been trained on the specific history around the origin of vampires. But much to the protest of Anders' commanding officer, the time gate had been put on ice. Anders and his whole unit, the last thousand trained invaders, would be sent to Earth in one week. They'd take back Earth or scorch it to ruin. That great spinning blue ball he'd been dreaming of his whole life. He wasn't ready to burn it all down.
He wasn't the only one.
While many still clung to the hope of survival on the moon, some knew it was only a matter of time. Called "futurists", these radicals believed the only hope of humanity now lay in the shuttered time gate program. If they could get even one soldier through to the past to stop the first vampire, everything could be prevented. But the technology was unproven, and the risks were great. Using the time gate would drain the power cells being used for the lunar energy shield. The moon would be defenseless.
Two such futurists were Anders' own parents. They had already lost their first son and were unready to send their second to his certain doom. And they didn't see any other future for their third. Anders knew how they felt, and he was torn on the subject. He'd been raised to invade. But it simply wasn't going to work. But rewriting history, and leaving the moon defenseless? It was no small thing to imagine. He kept his mouth shut about it, but he knew everything was coming to a head. Something was going to happen.
In desperate times people do desperate things. The futurists came by night. Not even Anders knew the plan until he was suddenly being whisked out of bed. There was sneaking, then there was gunfire. Soon he was standing before the time gate being suited up. It was all a blur as his commanding officer told him his mission: to stop the vampires at their very start. "Yes sir" was all he could answer as he stepped through the time gate and left behind his his parents, his brother, and a future that, if all went to plan, would never even exist. He exited in another place, in another time, and everything he'd ever known was over. Or, rather, had not yet begun.
PL 11, 165/165pp
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Last edited by WhovianBeast; Apr 4th, 2023 at 01:55 AM.
Hero Points: 4 (12/9/2020) Power Points not assigned: 6 (11/12/2020)
Kind: Vampire (Fey before turning)
Age: 600+
Year of birth: 1385 AD Turned into a vampire: 1490 AD
Physical description: A young beauty in her prime, with an hourglass figure, a generous bust, and stunning purple eyes. Her short dark purple hair contrast with her pale milky skin. She embodies Fey's beauty and enthralling Vampire sensuality. Druscilla stands short at 5'4 and 120 pounds.
Personality: Patient and Calculating, she doesn't take unnecessary risks having all the time in the world to fulfill her goals. She envies living things that can die, love and enjoy all aspects of life.
Country of Origin: Transylvania, relocated to New England (New London).
Arbiter: Loki
Powers: Illusion, Mind Control and other Vampire-like abilities will be her thing.
Age: ???
Country of Origin: ??? Physical description: Emet is a human-shaped magical construct, built from inorganic materials and given life through the application of powerful magics. He is comprised of an ornately inlaid metal casing riveted into place around the mysterious internal mechanisms that provide his animation. Unlike the rest of his finely crafted body his face-plate is a simple, curved metal sheet with plain round holes to accommodate the softly glowing crystalline structures that pass for his eyes. The difference in workmanship between his face and the rest of him suggests a slapdash repair at some point in his past. He stands just under six feet tall with a gaunt build that belies his high weight. He typically wears formal but concealing attire, making him difficult to identify on those occasions when he lets himself be seen.
Powers: As a construct, Emet is not subject to many of the needs or frailties of human biology. He is able to vanish and walk unseen among the masses of (potentially) criminal humans. His mind and senses are tuned to the task of identifying and tracking lawbreakers, including a supernatural comprehension of all languages. His hands are capable of producing a powerful and dangerous electrical shock.
Personality: Emet is very focused on what he considers his inbuilt purpose: the enactment of justice. However he is not emotionless or mechanical in his demeanor. He is sincerely disturbed by the suffering experienced by the victims of crime, and he considers most suffering to be the result of one crime or another. His frustration with humanity's tendency to deviate from the law is often expressed with bitterness and sarcasm. His lack of memory causes him very little concern overall, but he imagines that he must have come from a place with a more sensible legal system.
Because he is unable to lie Emet tends to speak very carefully. He avoids making concrete statements except in areas where he is very certain. He understands and uses figures of speech freely, but never risks ambiguity with them.
Emet generally obeys the letter and spirit of the law to the best of his ability, except where doing so conflicts with his innate moral sensibilities or hinders his efforts to enact justice himself. His respect for the privacy of others is vestigial at best. He has no compunctions about stalking and striking up conversations with complete strangers or lurking in private residences to interrogate potential witnesses. He is gradually learning to temper such direct approaches to achieve better results.
Emet awoke in a back alley in a Mississippian warehouse district, surrounded by other valuable looking but broken objects of possible arcane significance. He had no memory of his past and no idea how he came to arrive there. He didn't have time to investigate the scene as he was almost immediately drawn to investigate a domestic disturbance nearby. By the time he had helped resolve that situation (by inadvertently scaring both parties into forgetting their differences and uniting in pelting him with their pots and pans) the scene of his strange arrival had been picked clean by the local riffraff.
Since then Emet has adapted quickly to the unusual and crime infested world where he has found himself. He started calling himself Emet Clay, based on some of the only writing he could decipher from the various inscriptions on his outer shell. He has largely focused on understanding the criminal and law enforcement elements of his chosen city and adapting himself and his methods to interact with them effectively. His preferred approach is to collect and deliver evidence to the proper authorities. Where incompetence or corruption prevent his chosen cases from being, in his opinion, properly adjudicated he has readily taken the law into his own mechanical hands.
Emet didn’t get bored easily, but it was starting to happen now. He was sure he had the right office but its owner wasn’t keeping regular hours. He already knew everything that went on here. How many people had been hurt. How much money they’d given over to avoid being hurt worse. The names of the perpetrators, the names of the victims. He just needed to collect something a bit more concrete to get the wheels of justice moving. So he stood in the corner, feeling like another piece of furniture, waiting.
Eventually the man, the criminal, Mr. Lanzoni walked into his office. He was older and a bit pudgy. He didn’t look like the type to organize an extortion racket. But expecting people to ‘look the type’ was why juries needed so much evidence. He didn’t see Emet. Nobody would have. He sat down, took a bundle of bills from his most recent ‘charity drive’ out of his pocket and leaned over to unlock the cash box under his desk.
Emet moved forward silently and placed his hand on the back of Mr. Lanzoni’s neck. There was a bright spark at the point of contact and the smell of ozone filled the air. The extortionist began twitching uncontrollably as Emet shoved his face down to the desktop.
“Hi. I’ll be taking your ‘charity money’, your notebooks, keys to locker #54 on Yacht Street...” Emet’s tone was polite and matter-of-fact as he placed the various items into the pockets of his voluminous coat. He reached into the cash box and pulled out an antique silver pocket watch as he continued, “...and Mr. Armstrong’s watch over to the DA’s office later today. If he declines to prosecute you and your goons again I will have to take a more active role in the situation.”
Emet leaned in close so the metallic clicking that underlaid his voice was clearly audible to the spasming criminal. “That means I will, if necessary, do to you what you did to Mr. Armstrong. Do you understand?”
Mr. Lanzoni groaned, on the verge of passing out.
“Good enough. Keep your nose clean.”
Emet removed his hand and vanished into the hallway.
He didn’t like making threats like that. It felt perilously close to lying. But there was enough wiggle room, after all poor Mr. Armstrong had been through, that he wouldn’t have to murder anyone if it came down to it. It was never as easy to get into an office the second time around, so better to get the message across the first time if he could.
Complications
Motivation: Justice: All he really wants is to enforce the law. Is that so much to ask?
Prejudice: As an arcane artifact himself, Emet is not well understood or liked by a fair swath of the human population.
Quirk: Incapable of deliberately lying, vexed by lying accidentally.
Apr 28th, 2020, 09:37 AM
