[Characters] Dog Tags

[Fragmaster01]

Characters here! The Sheet Code is [SPOILERBUTTON="Character Sheet"][INDENT][NSHEET]xxxxx[/NSHEET][/INDENT][/SPOILERBUTTON] with the number of your sheet in that 5 digit slot.

20 point buy, no traits. Give a wish list of your equipment, rather than buying things.

[Ziether]

 

WISH LIST: Some sort of handgun, some daggers/knives, lockpicking equipment, burglary tools, maybe some sort of protective vest? Food, water, space blanket.

Tasha Dunderson Name: Why the hell should I tell you? You have a gun? Oh, in that case, I should probably get on with it. Tasha Dunderson. It sounds boring, eh? Yeah, I'm a normal human girl. Attractive, in the conventional sense, but that tends to mean nothing when the flowing curves of the newly sapient beckon. Damn Uplifts... Race: did I mention that I'm Human? Okay, just making sure. I don't want there to be any confusion that I'm a shaved Uplift... Class: I learned to sneak around a lot. Inner city upbringings provide plenty of practice climbing things, breaking into places, and conning people of all stripes. Oh, you want the NAME of the class? Yeah, Rogue might fit. Blue or Pink? Black and Blue. Okay, I relent. Pink. But don't you EVER make me wear pink. Age: Nineteen. What? You don't believe me? You've got some balls asking a girl her age...this isn't a bar, is it? Okay, I'm twenty-two. Don't tell anybody. Personality: You haven't figured it out by now? You sure are dense. What was that? You want me to actually go into detail? Pushy, aren't you... Personality I don't trust anyone. Least of all you. I may act all sweet and nice, but I'm watching for that holdout pistol, that concealed dagger. My back needs protecting. I'll work with whomever I need to, and it'll look like I'm okay with it, but I long to be on my own, finding my own way around. The one thing Momma taught me was to take advantage of your situation. The "Government" isn't handing out benefits to poor people anymore, so I have to get by on my wits. I'll flirt if that's what the situation calls for, and I'll do a decent job of it, too. I'm not skinny, but I can make a convincing "come hither." Confidence is a total turn-on for most people. It's a good thing to know, and an even better thing to take advantage of. Maybe some day someone will convince me that they're worth trusting, but until then, I'll stick to my guns. Literally. My guns. I'm handy in a brawl, all right, but my guns will do me favors when needed. Hopefully that doesn't happen too often I'm running out of ammo to go around. Appearance: Yes, you can see me. I'm not invisible. You want a girl to give you her honest opinion of how she looks? Okay, give me a minute. I really don't want to go here... Appearance So, I'm a tall girl. I'm like 5'10". I got made fun of for it incessantly in High School. I'm not petite, but I'm not a big girl, ya know. Kinda the "athletic" type. I can hold my own if it comes to blows, but I'd rather talk things out. Let's see...I wear my hair at shoulder length, light brown with blonde highlights. Lots of different layers of blondes. My eyes are green, piercing. The guys always tell me about my eyes. I tell them to go **** themselves. I keep myself clean, but I don't go overboard for the girly things. I don't have colored nails or anything, just natural nail-colored nails, short, manageable. I try to dress practically. Shorts when it's warm, leggings when it's cooler, anything that won't hamper my movement. Don't get me wrong, I know my way around a pair of heels and a slinky dress, but there had DAMN well be a good reason for it. Can't run far in heels, at least run fast enough to get away from anything worth getting away from. I have long limbs, powerful legs, I clock in at around 160 lbs. Not skinny by anyone's book, but anything less and I'd not be able to do what I can do. I keep in good form, but this is a lot of muscle. I pity the tiny girls. Some former coyote is gonna make a snack out of them. Not me. I'll punch him in his damned mouth and break his teeth. Try eating me then, punk. Background: You REALLY want to know everything about me? Don't you have more important things to do than check out each girl passing through trying to get out of town? Whatever. This is the last question, right? Good. I can't wait to get my sweet *** out of here. Background Yeah, so I'm from around here. Born and bred. Bred is actually a pretty accurate picture. My mom had kids like it was a competition. She didn't take much care of us, just used us tax breaks. We ate cheap stuff in bulk, and shared a room, but mom got those checks every month. I was number five of six. Little Jeremy didn't make it, though. He died when he was five. I don't remember exactly why, but he was always sickly. Allana, Gerard, Shaina, and Paul...I haven't seen any of them in months, at least. They'r all alive last time I checked. We all have different daddies, so sometimes there's some friction. I learned from an early age what houses were abandoned. Any urban area has them. I was little back then, and little gets you in smaller spaces. I learned how to loot old homes by the time I was seven. By the age of ten I was twirling knives, doing some minor card magic tricks for cash, and pickpocketing. Nobody expects the well-spoken, American definition, nonoffensiveprecocious, happy kid to steal your identity. Suckers. I stayed in school, that was important. Homework was left undone, I got some psychologist to say I had some disorder and didn't need to do homework. That left my afternoons open to learn more practical things, like computers, cars, guns, security systems, and the like. I didn't date or anything, couldn't trust the boys. They only want one thing, and I'm too smart to let them get close. I take care of myself. College wasn't going to happen, and I didn't need it. A practical education gets you where you want to go, anyways. I too some technical courses while I worked as a locksmith's apprentice. Legal access to lockpicking equipment was useful. Making my own was even more so. I've been doing odd jobs ever since, looking for my big break. It'll come soon. I'm getting out of town now. All Uplifts can't be bad, but I'd like everything to get more stable before I try living in the city again. Until then, they'll get a bullet between the eyes.

[Pumpkinhead11]

 

Wish List
-Satchel
-Books(for fun!)
-Nibbles(snack food)
-Phone & charger
-Spare clothes(T-shirts)
-Thin Blanket
-Writing Utensils(Pens & pencils)
-Notepad
-Leather Armor (light)

Interview Name: "name, name, name... um, I like Spizzle Spazzle!" (Elizabeth Metis) Race: "the fur is new, but at least I still have all my digits. Oh! And a tail!" (Downgrade) Class: "I think I learned tae-kwan-box-face-kick-jutsu." (Brawler) Gender: "Blue's my favorite color!" (Pink/Girl) Age: "23 years next week." (Correct) Personality: "Um... hm... Ok. I was a total bookie. Read books, comics, manga, instruction manuals, signs... actually the only thing I couldn't really read was people. I guess I really should have seen the signs sooner that my roommate was with that New Age group. Oh well!" "Now instead of being really bad at athletics I seem to have an unnatural knack for them. I still like to read books and hide them someplace safe, but those safe places are slowly going away with those packs looking for dominance." "Those Enclave guys seem to have mistaken me for one of their kind. They seem to not like people as much so I just nod and look for books to store for reading later. Why can't we all just happily sit quietly and read together?" "Hey. Is that my book? Where did you find that? Give me tha... oh that's not mine. Sorry here you go." Appearance: "I have fur! So now I can just walk around without clothes and never be naked! Or wait. If my fur is part of me then... I'm still naked?! Shirt, shirt! I need a shirt!"       (She has red fur with a very fluffy tail. Very petite from a sheltered life, with growing muscle from the transformation. She was never the tallest person and remains at a modest average height.) Background: "So, my family started with my viking forefather as he met my foremother in a raid... Oh. You mean recent history. Heh, sowwy." "Well I remember going for a drink when the Enclave appeared on the TV. I thought it was a joke. And some Long Islands will make anything funny, hehehehe. Anyway, I remember my roommate leaving a note for me to not panic and that she'd blah blah blah. By the time I woke up half the note was eaten while the light from the sun had a grudge against me for drinking." "One kick through the door and a Foxy lady, no literally. She had a tail and muzzle. Anyway she said she was my roommate and zapped me. One crazy dream is what I thought when I woke up again, until I noticed two guys sniffing around me. One was a Fox, and the other a Dog. Again literally." "A bunch of stuff later and I just want us all to get along... and cuddle when it's cold."

[FoggyKnight]

 

Wish List: Food, Blanket, Chew Rope.

Name: Tango
Race: Black Labrador Retriever (Animal)
Class: Urban Druid, Protection/Community Domains
Gender: Neither. (Spayed)
Age: Five. She thinks. She thinks?!
Personality:
Tango is a Good Dog. She's so smart, she knows how to get through a cat flap (it's all in the hips). She has noticed that she can do stuff now. She can flutter her eyes, cock her head just right...and snap! The humans give her their cheeseburgers! She doesn't like violence, but there are some humans that are Bad, and this uprising thing will put them in their own cages, right? However, there are Good Humans too, and she doesn't want to see them go across the Rainbow Bridge during this mixup. Like Good Dogs and Bad Dogs, right? She still maintains her upbeat personality, but she has learned how to hone it to survive. She can be laid-back when she's back with her pack.

Appearance:
Tango wears all black with a necklace of hemp rope, has attractively droopy ears, a large nose, and a long tail that wags her butt when she's happy. She's thinner than she would like to be. Several scars decorate her sides and muzzle that Alpha would be Growling to see, but it wasn't her fault, the Bad Men made her do it. The other dog didn't give her much choice, he didn't want to get kicked either. There's also the question of what is up with this weird stuff that is happening to her? If it like what the vet Did then she doesn't like it.
Appearance

 

Tango was one of a litter of six, born to her mother in Chicago. Romping around and getting into mischief with her brothers and sister until her mother put her paws down, Tango's first few weeks were great! Lots of attention, lots of fun, but lots of big, booming NO!'s. Lots of big, no-furred creatures that had trunks like trees too. She was not allowed to bite them either. Or nip them. Peeing on them was growled upon.

She was separated from her family at the tender age of six weeks and given to a new pack of these furless apes. The alpha and beta ape took her to the bad-smelling place and gave her something that made her sleepy. Afterwards, she was missing something important, but no one would tell her what it was. However, there were new dogs to socialize with and she met cats for the first time. Her family loved her and she loved them.

When she was four, she was laying around in the sun in front of her house. She was playing an important job, keeping the sun from moving on the grass. She was tired too, because Bangle and Snowball from across the street had come over and she had to keep them from marking their territory all over her yard. Goliath was too old to be much deterrent these days, poor dog.

A screech from strange tires was what she first heard, waking her up, before two humans laid hands on her. She growled, barked, and (Alpha would be displeased!) bit at them but they sprayed something funny in her nose, and everything went black. She woke up in a cage too small for her to move comfortably, surrounded by other miserable dogs and cats in cages. She tried to ask what she did wrong to deserve such treatment. Didn't her family love her?

When the uprising came, it came with furry vengeance. With new opposable dewclaws, clever dogs and cats let themselves and others out of the cages, to rise against their -nappers. Finding herself free, Tango was dismayed to find she didn't know where she was. Wandering through the streets, she shied away from crowds and the aggressive strange animals that roamed them. Was the world going crazy? She had to find her family! If she could just explain to Alpha that she was a Good Dog, then maybe he would pat her and give her treats again? Maybe one of the two-leggers could help. They had opposable dewclaws and could give her food. She just had to watch out for the Bad Humans that the street animals told her about.

[Andramal]

Creation still in progress, but posted for convenience of progress.

 

Current wish list: harrow deck, a few spares that aren't Spell Deck (for throwing), maybe a small pouch on a collar to help carry them with, a bucket I can carry or wear, and a nice hat for my head. I can't think of what else a cat would really carry around!

 

Name: Ipkis the Doomsayer
Race: Animal. (small size. big cat)
Class: Witch (Hedge Witch and Cartomancer), Patron of Portents
Gender: Colors were never quite a specialty. I think you use 'blue' for males.
Age: Three, or there-abouts
Personality: As a Feral, Ipkis was wary of others, as any stray would be. Find food, eat grass, don't pick fights with cats or things bigger than you, chase the lizards, and so on. Once Ipkis acquired a mind, he became curiouser and curiouser, and took on an air of savage nobility. A Prince of the streets, a Prophet of the Falling Sky, the Messenger of the Foreboding! (Notice: May think himself fairly important)
Appearance: A cat, in black, with white front boots and nose. Do you laugh? I shall raise my tail and turn my back to you then, hhmph!
Background: A cat of the streets, Ipkis has traveled both city and wilderness in his search of food and peace. That was natural instinct, however. Ah, the times of the chase, the thrill of the hunt, the Songs of His People!

Then came the roaring flames of the Heavens, the Awakening of Sentience, the realizations of what there was in the world. The Humans made more sense (as much sense as crazy, two-legged cough sitters can be), and the chaos that erupted from it just made them more unusual.

Now with a mind to match, Ipkis wanted to know more. He snuck into an old shop of the occult, called that way by some instinct. It had been abandoned in the chaos outside, which meant he was unlikely to be bothered (at least for awhile). There was plenty of books, though Ipkis did not believe he could read, There was a deck of cards sitting loose on a table, however, and he knocked one off by accident as he explored.

The Flutter of the Harrow Card drew his gaze like no other. He followed the card down, found himself staring at a funny human. The card was trying to say something. Per cat logic, Ipkis went up and knocked more cards from the table with a flutter of noise.

The Sky, a bewildered looking man, a crown held high, a royal rabbit. There was many cards, and as he looked at them, they spoke to him...sort of. With periodic stops for food, Ipkis 'learned' from these cards, from the books around him. He learned that what he was staring at was a Harrow Deck, that they were used to divine things, to learn things.. He learned that they were calling to him, and they gave him his name.

One day, Ipkis came out from that shop, a makeshift collar on his neck, and a pouch dangling from it. He seemed to stand taller, more upright and majestic...but really he had just grown a whole friggin lot! A big black at with a collar full of cards; be wary if he crossed your path, for Ipkis the Doomsayer may be ready to bring you your judgments, just as it has been brought for so many now...

[Atalanta]

 

Name: Cleo
Race: Uplift, fennec fox
Class: Fighter (Brawler or Two-Weapon Warrior)
Age: 6 (fennec foxes age at approx. the same rate as dogs)
Gender: Female

Appearance: (not quite as punked out as the pic)
Cleo stands at just shy of average human height, about 4'9”. She seems rather small and scrawny, but she's got a good bit of muscle on her frame. Her fur is pale tan. Her eyes are pitch black. She has a black button nose, with a few long black whiskers to each side. Obviously, as a fennec fox, her ears are her most prominent feature. She tends to gravitate towards bright, distracting colors and teenaged fashions. Her favorite outfit is her cargo pants, altered perfectly to allow for her tail, and a green, one-shouldered short sleeved shirt. And no collar. Ever. Never again.

Personality: Cleo's a spunky wise alec. She just opens her mouth and lets her thoughts out. She's still learning the social niceties of being sentient, having not been around other animals since she was weaned. Freedom and choices and independence are strange new things for her, and she adores every minute of them. She comes off as almost like a rebelous teenager, though by fox years, she's well of age. And she never has to wear the itchy mauve sweater ever again! She's completely enamored of her new life (and thumbs! Glorious thumbs!) and looks back on her time as an un-sentient with disdain. Especially the part with the tutu.

 

Background: Cleo's “Mom” and “Dad” had been deliberately childless. Children didn't fit in with their cocktail-party and yacht-gala lifestyle. Instead, they had Cleo. They thought the idea of an exotic pet was chic, while at the same time, fennec foxes are companionable, litter-trainable, and fairly easy to manage. They like to dress her up in frilly pink dog sweaters and rhinestone studded collars for her daily prance around the neighborhood.

When the meteor struck, the changes that wracked her body were incomprehensible and painful. Mom and Dad were all a-tither, trying to help their little darling. When her body finally stabilized, they had no idea what to do. Suddenly, the anti-child couple had a newly intelligent person in their care. They tried, really they did, but they were temperamentally incapable of helping her adjust.

Cleo, on the other hand, was starting to understand her own autonomy. Her suddenly intelligent and self-aware mind allowed her to have her own feelings, opinions, preferences. And her ability to speak let her communicate these with her parents. She could do as she liked, and it was exhilarating. Eventually, Mom and Dad gave up their attempts to smooth the path for her. They set her up with a little nest egg almost like they were sending a child off on her own.

The last Cleo heard of her parents, they had been in the mass exodus that had ended so badly. Cleo had thought, mistakenly it seems, that they were just overreacting, that things would settle down. She had exercised some of her new-found autonomy (and teenaged I-know-everything-ness) to stay holed up in her very own apartment. She had even started thinking about her "I told you so" speech. As badly as the exodus had ended, she felt she was right to have stayed (admittedly for the wrong reasons), but that was little consolation. Her parents were missing, probably dead, and it was quickly becoming obvious that her cute, quiet life of choices was coming to an end. The Kumbayas were supposed to have a safe place nearby. She'd just have to hope she can make it there.
...wow, not doing gear makes you feel like you're forgetting something.

Wish List: Weapons (I like Scimitars, but what ever is available and decent for TWFing.)
Light armor (or modern equivalent)
Clothes altered for tail
Food
-The- green fuzzy blanket.