Hello hello once again, my CoX compatriots. It's time for another of Nalrok's RP prompts! This one may be a little troublesome for those of you who are trying to combat altitis.
I want you to create a character concept, and then make them! If you want to be thorough, reserve a name on the server. Then, write their information! Finally, create them and play them! I find that all too often I end up deleting lowbies because their concept just doesn't interest me. From what I understand, this happens to others too. So, in the interest of creating a new toon that's fun to play and fun to RP, here we go!
Quote:
Write an origin story/backstory to a character you haven't created yet. Once you've established their presence and purpose, create them on the server and play! At the end of your post, feel free to tell us what AT/powersets you chose!
"My friends told the tale almost every week when the weather got colder. Told me they'd heard it from their family, from their grand-dads. Goes like this.
"Wherever there's dust and tumbleweeds and a full moon, people talk of Lady Do or Die. Gorgeous straw-colored hair, blue eyes that're dead as the cold gray clouds, a constant grin on a mouth that tells lies of silver and sings with sounds of heaven. A lot of folks say she's a witch, a weaver of the evils of the land. Even more folks say she can give you whatever you want, whatever you ask for, so long as you can beat her in a duel. She first started showin' up in old legends, 'longside Pecos Bill and Paul Bunyan. Except, she never lived on in written word like those other magical characters since she was neither good of heart nor understanding. She wanted the world on a string and no one to question her.
"Ev'ry now and again you hear about the mystery murder; some random guy out in the middle of the Nevada desert or the Arizona cliffs with a gun in his hand and two bullet wounds in his chest, surrounded by iced-over dirt. Every time they find someone like that, they say it was Lady Do or Die winning another gunfight. I wonder if anyone's ever won."
"Draw!"
The woman drew her guns, one gold and one ivory. With a gleam in her eye and a sneer on her lips the two weapons barked out a war cry, and the man twenty paces from her fell to the ground bleeding.
"You witch," he cried, blood flying from his mouth. "You cheated! You turned early!"
"No I didn't, cowboy." The woman strode over with a go-screw-yourself saunter, licking her lower lip with her nose wrinkled up. "You're just a terrible shot. You shake when you aim, you pull the trigger when you oughta squeeze, and you have the worst revolver I ever seen." She knelt down, shaking her head, her straw-colored hair falling around her shoulders. "Pretty sad, man. Every time I come out for my stroll one of you wise-types walks up and waves a gun at me like you think you'll be the next guy to get his grants."
The man spat out a clot of blood, looking at her furiously. "Why the hell can't I just get it? Why do I have to duel you?" He reached for his revolver, and found his hand crushed under the woman's steel-toed boot.
"Mm-mm, friend. You lost. No two-for-two. You don't get the wishes unless you beat me in a duel." She stood up, lighting a cigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. Her dead blue eyes traced the horizon, the moon framing her upper body as the man stared up at her. "It's just sad. I always get the speech, too. You gonna give me the speech, cowboy? Gonna tell me all the reasons you shouldn't die?"
The man sputtered, shaking. "N... nah," he breathed. "Figure... I got myself into this. If I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die." He set his head down on the sand and rolled his eyes. "Just my luck."
"Why'd you want the grants, friend?"
"What?" The man looked back up as the woman puffed her cigarette.
"I said, why'd you want the grants? The wishes, son, pay attention." She took her foot off of his hand and kicked the gun away.
"I wanted three things, lady. I wanted money, I wanted a new home, and I wanted my wife and kid back."
"Ol' lady leave you?"
"Hell no, some masked jackass broke in to my house and killed her. Took my money, my guns, and burned my house down afterward! Left me to die, saying 'good luck with all this crap' as he ran out the door."
The woman looked down. "... that so. In'tresting," she muttered as she snapped a finger. The man jerked, and a hollowpoint slug shot out of his chest. His chest, which was now healed. "Get up," she said dryly.
"What?" The man stood, confusion on his face.
"I won't give you three wishes, but I'll give you something for your trouble. You're the first guy come out here that didn't give me some 'I want power' story, or some damn fool saying he wants superpowers." She took his hand, and without warning the world around him exploded with light. When he came to, he was standing next to the woman in a large warehouse, behind two men and sixteen hostages. The two men were wearing orange vests and ceramic demon masks.
"Boys," the woman said. They both spun around. The orange-vested man on the left was met with the ivory pistol, his head exploding backward as the woman put a slug in his head. The other one was met with her boot. He fell, dropping his assault rifle.
"Cowboy," she said to the man at her side. "This loser I just branded with my foot is the man that killed your family and torched your home." She slapped the golden gun into the man's hand. "Why don't you introduce him to Golden Greta?"
The man, eyes wide, accepted the gun.
---
"We've been looking for him for weeks, sir. How did you even get the opportunity to shoot him? He's the slipperiest Hellion we've ever met," the PPD officer said to the man.
"Right place, right time, right motive, I guess." The man shrugged, looking at his surroundings. For the next half hour he spent his time giving information to the police and talking with the hostages he'd just saved. All sixteen of them swore on their lives he'd walked in and shot both men, saving them from being part of an elaborate warehouse fire scheme.
As he walked away from the scene, he took the golden gun out of his waistband and stated at it for what felt like hours.
"I'd like that back," the woman said from behind him.
He spun around, shaking his head. "I don't know what to say... I don't know how to thank you." He offered her the gun, and she holstered it.
"Things need to be made right sometimes, friend. Tomorrow you're gonna get a call from the head of criminal affairs at Paragon City Hall; they're gonna want to offer you a job. You'll do well, you'll get enough money to get a nice new place to live. I can't give you back your family, but it's a start."
"I- But I-"
"Cowboy, you know who I am. They don't call me Lady Do or Die for nothin. Now either you go do, or I change my mind 'bout all this."
"Y-yeah! Yes, I got it. Thank you. Thank you so much."
Hello hello once again, my CoX compatriots. It's time for another of Nalrok's RP prompts! This one may be a little troublesome for those of you who are trying to combat altitis.
I want you to create a character concept, and then make them! If you want to be thorough, reserve a name on the server. Then, write their information! Finally, create them and play them! I find that all too often I end up deleting lowbies because their concept just doesn't interest me. From what I understand, this happens to others too. So, in the interest of creating a new toon that's fun to play and fun to RP, here we go!
"Wherever there's dust and tumbleweeds and a full moon, people talk of Lady Do or Die. Gorgeous straw-colored hair, blue eyes that're dead as the cold gray clouds, a constant grin on a mouth that tells lies of silver and sings with sounds of heaven. A lot of folks say she's a witch, a weaver of the evils of the land. Even more folks say she can give you whatever you want, whatever you ask for, so long as you can beat her in a duel. She first started showin' up in old legends, 'longside Pecos Bill and Paul Bunyan. Except, she never lived on in written word like those other magical characters since she was neither good of heart nor understanding. She wanted the world on a string and no one to question her.
"Ev'ry now and again you hear about the mystery murder; some random guy out in the middle of the Nevada desert or the Arizona cliffs with a gun in his hand and two bullet wounds in his chest, surrounded by iced-over dirt. Every time they find someone like that, they say it was Lady Do or Die winning another gunfight. I wonder if anyone's ever won."
"Draw!"
The woman drew her guns, one gold and one ivory. With a gleam in her eye and a sneer on her lips the two weapons barked out a war cry, and the man twenty paces from her fell to the ground bleeding.
"You witch," he cried, blood flying from his mouth. "You cheated! You turned early!"
"No I didn't, cowboy." The woman strode over with a go-screw-yourself saunter, licking her lower lip with her nose wrinkled up. "You're just a terrible shot. You shake when you aim, you pull the trigger when you oughta squeeze, and you have the worst revolver I ever seen." She knelt down, shaking her head, her straw-colored hair falling around her shoulders. "Pretty sad, man. Every time I come out for my stroll one of you wise-types walks up and waves a gun at me like you think you'll be the next guy to get his grants."
The man spat out a clot of blood, looking at her furiously. "Why the hell can't I just get it? Why do I have to duel you?" He reached for his revolver, and found his hand crushed under the woman's steel-toed boot.
"Mm-mm, friend. You lost. No two-for-two. You don't get the wishes unless you beat me in a duel." She stood up, lighting a cigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. Her dead blue eyes traced the horizon, the moon framing her upper body as the man stared up at her. "It's just sad. I always get the speech, too. You gonna give me the speech, cowboy? Gonna tell me all the reasons you shouldn't die?"
The man sputtered, shaking. "N... nah," he breathed. "Figure... I got myself into this. If I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die." He set his head down on the sand and rolled his eyes. "Just my luck."
"Why'd you want the grants, friend?"
"What?" The man looked back up as the woman puffed her cigarette.
"I said, why'd you want the grants? The wishes, son, pay attention." She took her foot off of his hand and kicked the gun away.
"I wanted three things, lady. I wanted money, I wanted a new home, and I wanted my wife and kid back."
"Ol' lady leave you?"
"Hell no, some masked jackass broke in to my house and killed her. Took my money, my guns, and burned my house down afterward! Left me to die, saying 'good luck with all this crap' as he ran out the door."
The woman looked down. "... that so. In'tresting," she muttered as she snapped a finger. The man jerked, and a hollowpoint slug shot out of his chest. His chest, which was now healed. "Get up," she said dryly.
"What?" The man stood, confusion on his face.
"I won't give you three wishes, but I'll give you something for your trouble. You're the first guy come out here that didn't give me some 'I want power' story, or some damn fool saying he wants superpowers." She took his hand, and without warning the world around him exploded with light. When he came to, he was standing next to the woman in a large warehouse, behind two men and sixteen hostages. The two men were wearing orange vests and ceramic demon masks.
"Boys," the woman said. They both spun around. The orange-vested man on the left was met with the ivory pistol, his head exploding backward as the woman put a slug in his head. The other one was met with her boot. He fell, dropping his assault rifle.
"Cowboy," she said to the man at her side. "This loser I just branded with my foot is the man that killed your family and torched your home." She slapped the golden gun into the man's hand. "Why don't you introduce him to Golden Greta?"
The man, eyes wide, accepted the gun.
---
"We've been looking for him for weeks, sir. How did you even get the opportunity to shoot him? He's the slipperiest Hellion we've ever met," the PPD officer said to the man.
"Right place, right time, right motive, I guess." The man shrugged, looking at his surroundings. For the next half hour he spent his time giving information to the police and talking with the hostages he'd just saved. All sixteen of them swore on their lives he'd walked in and shot both men, saving them from being part of an elaborate warehouse fire scheme.
As he walked away from the scene, he took the golden gun out of his waistband and stated at it for what felt like hours.
"I'd like that back," the woman said from behind him.
He spun around, shaking his head. "I don't know what to say... I don't know how to thank you." He offered her the gun, and she holstered it.
"Things need to be made right sometimes, friend. Tomorrow you're gonna get a call from the head of criminal affairs at Paragon City Hall; they're gonna want to offer you a job. You'll do well, you'll get enough money to get a nice new place to live. I can't give you back your family, but it's a start."
"I- But I-"
"Cowboy, you know who I am. They don't call me Lady Do or Die for nothin. Now either you go do, or I change my mind 'bout all this."
"Y-yeah! Yes, I got it. Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Ain't worth fussin' over. Y'all be good now."
The streetlight over them flickered.
She was gone.
((Lady Do or Die, DP/Ice Blaster.))
My guides:Dark Melee/Dark Armor/Soul Mastery, Illusion Control/Kinetics/Primal Forces Mastery, Electric Armor
"Dark Armor is a complete waste as a tanking set."