The Grand OC! [CONTEST XXX: HALLOWEEEEEEEEEEN]

Username: Local Area Network Key
Name: Mark, Other Mark, Big Mark and Mayrq
Gender: Male, Male, Male and Unknown
Species: Boring Human, Boring Human, Boring Human and living tar blob.
Text colour: The joke is they're all called mark.

Description: Mark is a scrawny toothpick of a man, with greasy hair, a serious acne problem, braces, the guy is a gargantuan nerd basically. He's decked out in a neat shirt and tie ensemble, ready for work at some place incredibly boring probably I don't know IT'S NOT IMPORTANT. Mark is very shy and introverted guy who just wants to get by unnoticed.

Other Mark is a well built part time model/part time delivery-by-pushbike taco delivery man. He's young, real good looking, actually pretty down to earth and nice guy. Guy's sporting some exceedingly tight jeans and tshirt to show MAXIMUM BRAWN. Has a strong case of Mysophobia. prooooobably won't factor into the situaltion though. Probably.

Big Mark is this big, giant, other synonym for big biker guy. He's bald, has a goatee, covered in tatoos featuring skulls and snakes and skull-snakes. He's wearing some hyper tattered jeans, a leather jacket labeled FULL STOP ANGELS on the back, cowboy boots, he's a walking giant stereotype okay. He is BARFIGHT: personified.

Mayrq (pronounced: Mark.) is a strange ooze like creature from a distant star system. They don't talk or hear. instead they see sounds as a range of colours. They emit coloured vapors to communicate. Mayrq is actually a renowned thief in it's star system, it steals priceless jewels from the various star kingdoms and spreads the wealth to the poorer sub planets and moons. Mayrk has no eyes, ears, any dicernable features really, it just looks like a blob of tar, about the size of a bread box. Mayrq is exceedingly sarcastic and a bit of a smarmy git, that probably won't come across to well.

Bio:

So.

As it turns out, soul mates are a thing. An invisible bond that binds a select few individuals together irrevocably. They might not ever meet each other in their lifetimes, but they are connected somehow, and each of their actions effect the other in some way.

Mark was, fuck I don't know, changing some printer toner or some bullshit when some celestial bastard decided "Hey this loser would be PERFECT for a interdimensional fight to the death!" and so Mark poped out of his milquetoast existence into something far more interesting.

And naturally he would drag his buddies of fate with him.

Other Mark was being the life of the party somewhere until he puttered out of the room and the house and the earth and the galaxy and the universe he was so used to. There was naught but a unfinished taco ungracefully crashing to the ground where Other Mark stood.

Big Mark punched someone in the FACE. At the same time, the biker vanished into the air. The energy of transporting a whole human through the multiverse just so happens to be really really big and this had the nasty effect of multiplying the power of Bug Marks punch about, oh, by a factor of 10,000 or something? The subsequent explosion rips through half the town killing thousands.

ANd Mayrq. oh poor Mayrq. They were so close. SO CLOSE to completing the heist of their LIFE. The eye of M'grah'buvx, a diamond the size of house, taken away to be sold for trillions upon trillions of SPACE CREDITS. Mayrq would of been able to retire for life. Alas, sme nerdlinger on a rock, millions of lightyears away decided to get caught up in a battle to the death. Mayrq disappeared, leaving a viscous puddle behind with them.

Username: Bourgeoizer
Name: "Snips" Carapricious
Gender: Brother in arms
Text colour: Corollin' rollin' rollin
Species: Awakened Seticorn

Description: Seticorns are one of the gods' stranger creations, though the seakin of the Levantine Empire view them only as a pest and have driven them out of much of their original habitat, pushing the remnant population outland into the Coraline Coast beyond the aquacultural tide pools that surround the capital of Mon Sango. The Seticorn resemble a cross between a arthropod (horseshoe crab, perhaps) and a footstool, with four thick sturdy legs that let it gallop and leap across the exposed reefs at speed. They possess a second set of four legs which are kept folded to its underside while running, but give the creature reach when it must climb or traverse rougher ground. The underlimbs also have better claws for picking up and manipulating small objects. They have good lowlight vision but are sensitive to bright light. The seticorn is a scavenger and pack animal, with a painful bite but otherwise harmless.

They were considered a mostly-uninteresting nuisance created early into the rebuilding of the Praeterwater biosphere until the meddling of an unknown god (ok, she's called Blitzart, but it's not important), who gave a small subset of the Seticorns a higher intelligence. Most curiously, this intelligence is not conferred at birth, but once a Seticorn is decorated with coastal detritus (seagrass, shells, bits of coral, etc) taken from the back of an already-decorated Seticorn. If anyone cared enough to study the creatures, a fine debate about the origins of the seticorn self could surely be made, but as it stands nobody really gives a crap. Awakened Seticorns are sterile and seem to transfer some aspects of personality to their "progeny", which means that any particularly megalomaniacal Seticorn is going to struggle to build itself a subservient army.

Seticorn society becomes more complex (for a rather humble value of "complex") the further you get from the Ocean, transitioning from warring nomadic scavenger-packs to extended-family-esque units which farm their own decorative plants. Exchanging detritus is a common way to foster goodwill between more civilised Seticorn, though fighting breaks out often regardless due to food scarcity outland-ways.

Biography: Snips was a runner and scavenger, affiliated with a rather tight-knit clan who live and farm far enough out from the Ocean that nobody much bothers them. He volunteered for the usually-maligned position to sate his thirst for exploration, and kept landing in trouble for bringing back inedible "artifacts" (trash) belonging to the seakin farmers. He finds the cultures of other races fascinating, though his spirit of inquiry has gotten him picked up and tossed often and almost killed on several occasions. His clan, for the most part, quietly hoped he wouldn't come back one day.

Lucky for them, on one of Snips' more leisurely circuits out to the tide pools, the Seticorn found a creature who actually said words it understood! It looked a bit like the seakin, but smaller, buzzier, and its eyes were too big and it didn't seem to fall off of things even when it should've done. Also, bits of it didn't seem to be attached to the rest of it properly. The creature, quite open to Snips' endless questions, was The Uh Marksman, a god, which meant it could do all sorts of things but only if it felt like it, but it was a bit busy right now. It was looking for a group of Talas-men, and Snips didn't know what those were, but they were kind of noodly and gotten lost in this corner of the map and you know what, never mind, it'd just keep looking by itself.

The god vanished off the material plane, presumably to try using its acts in a less pointlessly wasteful manner.

Snips decided in that instant to find Thirrr Marx-its-ts-ts-tsm again and ask it about even more things, thus forming the smallest cult ever recorded by divine entities in the Praeterwater. He's been trundling along the countryside ever since, struggling to communicate with anything else and picking up all kinds of crap for his back collection.

Username: soldex2
Name: Chero's
Species: Majimale
Gender: buncha 'em
Color: zubat
Description: A Chero is rarely found alone, normally flying and appearing like a pink and grey cloud of chittering and spitting things. An individual Chero has four small wings, a single mouth with a long, red tongue, and some sort of circular body shape, ranging in length, width, and height per individual.

Weapons/Abilities: Every Chero is blind and relies on an odd sense, one that tracks the various properties left from its spit. Said properties allow the Chero to learn about what it just spit on, at which point it, and the members of its flock, decide exactly how to proceed. The spit has many different properties, most of which allow a Chero to differentiate one object from another, but some of which can deal significant damage to an opponent.

Biography: One time, a poor town was plagued by a bunch of Chero's just spitting on everything. They didn't know what to do! Cleaning it wasn't working and as the Chero's didn't use any of their more harmful spit it was annoying more than anything else!

Luckily, a traveler came around, and upon hearing about their spit problem decided to solve it. Using a Majimale companion of his own, he lured one of the Chero's away from its flock and then began to train with it. After some nice bonding and proper training, he let the Chero back into its flock, where they never bothered anyone else again. However, what the companion didn't know was that the Chero learned a bit more than he wanted...

Name: Gene "The Generator" Rator
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Text Color: An electric shade of yellow (who cares if it's not readable, if I were actually using this guy in a battle I'd pick something else)
Biography: Hyperbole City has a wide array of superpowered humans. Some were born with their abilities, others were empowered in freak accidents. Still others actively sought to give themselves powers, be it through mystic rituals, genetic engineering, or other means. And others still had no powers of their own, but either found or created objects that could let them stand up against full-strength superpowers.
Gene Rator was born an ordinary human, the worst accident he'd been in was a car crash with no serious injuries, and he didn't know the first thing about magic or science. And he was just smart enough to realize that messing around with those things with how little he knew would just be asking for trouble.
But he wasn't content to settle for being ordinary, despite all that. So he settled for the simplest option: breaking into a tech company and stealing something. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he figured he'd know it when he saw it.
And he did. It was hard to miss - a massive generator, towering over the rest of the room. Conveniently, someone had thought to put wheels on it.
You might think it wouldn't be easy wheeling a huge generator out of a high-security building unnoticed, and you'd be right. However, it turns out to be even harder for an average security team to stop someone wheeling a huge generator our of the building when they've figured out what it does when you hook up a laser pointer to it.
Not being a creative sort, Gene had already declared himself "The Generator" by the time he reached the exit. But that was the end of his exploits in Hyperbole City, because he and the generator vanished moments later.

Weapons and Abilities: Gene is just an average human. He grabbed a costume for his theft because style is important for this sort of thing, but it doesn't really have an electrical theme to it or anything, because he didn't know exactly what he'd end up stealing. He's not stupid, but he is a bit simpleminded. Complex plans aren't his thing.
The stolen generator is basically one big power source. Specifically, according to the manual that was lying next to it, it's designed to generate a high-voltage pulse from a low-voltage direct current supply. Gene doesn't know exactly what that means, but he does know that pretty much any electrical device he plugs into it will get ridiculous output - and since he's from a world of superhero physics, it won't burn out from overcharging or anything like that.
The generator is technically mobile, but not very. It's got wheels, but it has to be manually dragged around, and considering how heavy it is, that's a pretty slow process. Gene was thinking about plugging a fan into it and seeing if he could propel it with wind power, but he hasn't had the chance.

Description: Gene is a pretty ordinary looking guy, not very muscular but not exactly scrawny either. Without his costume (which is basically just some dark purple clothes and a mask), he wouldn't stand out much in a crowd, a fact which has annoyed him quite a bit.
Gene craves attention, and with a massive generator that he could use to power, say, a megaphone, he's likely to get quite a lot of it. He doesn't especially care what sort of attention it is, he just doesn't want to be thought of as "ordinary".
Unsurprisingly, he tends to be a bit of a jerk when dealing with other people.

you got 12 hours 30 minutes, maggots, and i haven't seen ONE marx brothers submission

The Diligent Gentleman Award goes to Lankie for their gaggle of Marks. We can only imagine the endless waves of banter within this odd grouping...

The 20Q Award for Confusing Me goes to Solaris for their Churros. I have no idea what the properties of the spit are despite constant reference to it, and what did it learn what did it learn?

The Synergy Award goes to Ixcaliber for Brookfield Secondary. A teachbot, judging all around it while trying not to disrupt the flow of "the scene" is good enough, but what happens when Gene overcharges it?

The I See What You Did Award goes to Schazer for her attempt at The Backdoor Worldbuilding Award. Uh, take it to Godhood, buster!

The Best Of Show Award goes to DragonFogel for Gene "The Generator" Rator because I like the character.

Hey people. We've gone through another eight contests, so it's time for another All-Stars week! Apologies if I'm stepping on anyone else's toes by taking this one.

Rules are pretty much the same as last time around. Pick two or three out of the previous eight themes: Redundancy, Noise, Illusion, Brew, Set, Dinosaurs, Nanomachines, Marx. No repeating a combination someone else has done (but if someone's done two themes you can add a third in) and no reserving combinations; they're all up for grabs until somebody posts one.

Once again, there will be an additional award available: the Space Jam Remix Prize For Cross-Thematic Cohesion, for an entry with two themes that don't seem to go together but somehow makes them work.

BONUS CHALLENGE: Throw in a theme from the first set of contests on top of all that! You aren't likely to get any special prize for including this, it's just for fun - though it may help you if you want to try for the Space Jam Remix Prize For Cross-Thematic Cohesion.

For reference, the previous eight themes were Flight, Light and Darkness, Sirens, Command, Cannons, Form, Nightmares, Boreal. If you opt to take this challenge, make a note of the additional theme you're including.

To be clear: if you go for the bonus challenge, you still have to pick two or three themes from this set of eight, and you can't repeat a combination someone else has used even if they pick a different theme for the bonus challenge.

That's it! Now go crazy!

does everyone get a redundancy for repeating a theme

Dinosaurs, Redundancy, Noise, + Sirens

Username: not funny
Name: Kyasprk
Species: Reptilian Bird
Gender: *RAAASSSS*
Color: *RAASSSS*
Description: As a Reptilian Bird, Kyasprk is a bipedal creature with thin legs and four toed clawed feetsies. Kyasprk also has two arms, also clawed, also four fingers. In addition, Kyasprk has another set of limbs, which are used as wings. Kyasprk's head has a mid sized beak, four eyes, and sharp, semi-retractable teeth. Kyasprk has a drab color scheme of browns and blacks, but a sharp and colorful mind that matches the sharp feathery scales that every reptilian bird has.

Kyaspark's motives are odd, and no one knows what they could be.

Weapons/Abilities: Kyaspark does not and cannot speak, the only noise people can hear near around the reptilian bird are various hums of various pitches. What they don't realize is that those hums are only a front, there to distract you from the hums that begin in your head. Hums that don't quite tell you anything, but that shape your feelings about any reptilian bird like creatures that may be around you. The hums are very pretty.

Biography: Josay Homerbay was used to reptilian birds, they were nice creatures, very pleasant and fun to be around, but something about this one seemed different. He looked at the feathery animal with some suspicion until it started to hum.

"Hmm, nice song, yanno fella, you remind me of a reptilian bird I used to see all the time, Franky... You know... you really remind me of him... I think I'll call you Franky."

"Franky" followed Josay Homerbay up until the guy started to get really clingy, at which point the reptilian bird made an exit, leaving the poor man alone, alone, alone.

"Franky" ran along the village that Josay Homerbay lived in, looking for someone who was less... gross, someone who would be fun to cause trouble with, someone like...

"Wow, what are you?"

Samsanthanie looked at the creature, with the curiosity that most children carry, and then followed it up with, "Do you have a name, owner, anything?"

"Franky" began to hum a bit.

"Hmmm, I guess not, it's pretty late and you are all alone. I guess I can call you Allie! That's a cute name for a girl bird I guess."

"Allie" followed her new friend, getting a bit bored before deciding to have some fun.

"Huh, wait, what are you-WOAH!"

Allie lifted the girl onto her back and started to run around, getting up some speed and then lifting off into the air, humming all along the way.

"Wow.... this is amazing...."

It was a pretty breathtaking sight, but not enough for Allie, who proceeded to do some sick tricks, all while humming away, hoping for an audience.

Various people left their homes wondering what all the noise was about, before looking in various degrees of horror and amusement at the little girl riding a reptilian bird miles and miles in the air.

With it's audience ready and engrossed, Allie went in the air, took a loop, and then allowed Samsanthanie to drop down into the floor below.

Panic set in, people screamed, and ran around and prepared all sorts of things to catch the little girl who was just screaming in partial joy and partial intense fear.

Allie of course, then caught Samsanthanie, dropped her off on some random person, and then flew off elsewhere, pretty content with the chaos. She was never heard from again, and neither was Franky, Jessamine, Shitbird, Grourgarlgle, THE GARGOYLE, or any other odd ball humming reptilian bird...

Dinosaurs, Marx, Cannons.

Name: Karl Marx Riding An Acrocanthosaurus

Race: Human, riding an Acrocanthosaurus

Gender: Karl Marx is male. Acrocanthosaurus is female.

Text Color: Karl's text is like this: "The more the division of labor and the application of machinery extend, the more does competition extend among the workers, the more do their wages shrink together.".
Acrocanthosaurus speaks like this: "GRAUUAURUHUGHUG"

Description: Tumblr User Putmeincoach shuddered, as the stomping outside stopped. Replaced with an eerie silence. The birds had long since fled the anarcho-capitalist-hyper-utopia complex. Their exodus had not been the result of His arrival, rather that they just feared the wrath of the gun-toting oligarchs who reigned supreme in these lands. Foolish birds, thought Putmeincoach, they were probably off sucking up to mummy government or something like the socialists they were.

The thing outside moved again, closer. Sensitive tongue tasted the air, making the softest sound, only nearly audible over the beast's heavy breathing. He could hear the man on its back, now. He dared peek through to examine the figure, the fake wooden wall that was all that separated him from his demise.

The man on the back of the theropod dinosaur was old, grey haired, with a bushy beard and a frowning manner.
It was Karl Marx. Or rather a caricature of him. Riding on the back of an Acrocanthosaurus.
Only the confined nature of his hiding place stopped Putmeincoach from tracing a cross on his chest. Communists here? In America, land of freedom and freedom? Intolerable!
It was as if the mounted figure heard his very thoughts. He lifted his Sprut-A Anti-Tank Gun with one hand, and levelled the barrel at Putmeincoach.
"Аста ла виста, бэби."

Biography: Karl Marx Riding An Acrocanthosaurus is Karl Marx, but riding an Acrocanthosaurus. Marx was illegally cloned by Acrocanthosaurus, a lab-grown clone Acrocanthosaurus who idolised him and grew up enamoured with the idea of socialism. One night, she broke into the lab and cloned him. Now the two of them hunt the countryside for capitalists and meanies.

Weapons and Abilities: Karl Marx Riding An Acrocanthosaurus has three powerful weapons. Weapon 1 is Marx' knowledge of sociology and economics, as well as his powerful reasoning abilities. Weapon 2 is Marx' Sprut-A Anti-Tank gun, a 6,500kg gun which he can lift and fire in one hand. Theoretically, if he had two, he'd be unstoppable. The third and final weapon is the Acrocanthosaurus. She is quite fast and can eat people. She also has intricate knowledge of modern cloning techniques and genetics (due to being cloned and raised by scientists.) She has a decent knowledge of feminism and is very good at making her point clear.

The most powerful weapon of all, however, is their friendship.

Set, Nanomachines, Illusions

user: <= is that way

Name: ExIsT Ver. 1.0 to 5.0

Race: Nanomachine Virus/Sentient Nanomachine Organism

Gender: not sufficiently sentient to engage in awareness of the concept of gender; excluding Ver. 5.0 which prefers not to associate with the concept of gender, but considers itself Asexual if it must use a label.

Text Color: Hm? What is it you have to say to ExIsT?

Weapons/Abilities: Ver. 1.0 to 4.9 are, in fact, not sentient past the point of being weapons. Ver. 5.0, however, is completely sentient and self aware, and uses its previous versions for their intended purpose: Hallucinogenic bio-warfare. Due to its innate understanding of its former versions, 5.0 is capable of tailoring the effects of an attack to exactly what it desires, from causing mild and strange sights to deadly terrors that can trigger physical responses easily strong enough to result in fatality. As 5.0 is completely composed of a mass of nanomachines, it is able to disperse and reassemble itself with relative ease, allowing it all of the advantages that might come with such an ability.

Biography: The ExIsT project, as some "clever" scientist decided to name it, was likely ill-advised. an attempt to create the perfect form of weaponized hallucinogen, the project crawled along at an incredibly slow pace until one scientist suggested the use of nanomachinery to augment and control the virus. The result could be considered a success, in a way.

The first version of the ExIsT created with the use of the nanomachines proved effective to the extreme - a slow and painful but surely fatal demise would follow. However, the project was not satisfied with just making such a weapon. They chose instead to continue to tweak the design, hoping to make the perfect, utterly controllable virus - something that could be programmed to do whatever they wished.

versions 1.1 to 4.9 followed - all of them resulting in different, and often strange or inexplicable effects. Version 2.3, for example, was known to cause those afflicted with it to view everything around them as different shades of puce, but caused no other known effects; and version 4.5 became infamous within the office for its odd propensity to cause the afflicted to believe they were somehow inside that one Looney Tunes movie, Space Jam.

After many failures, version 5.0 - the ultimate virus - was created. ExIsT 5.0 proved to be both the project's greatest success, and most devastating failure: upon activation, the nanomachines used in the process of enhancing the virus gained sentience, and the ExIsT 5.0 coalesced into a humanoid form. After a short talk with its creators, and upon determining that it honestly felt they were a bunch of fools and that it would rather be free, ExIsT 5.0 infected every member of the project, killing or driving to madness anyone who might know how to destroy it. It then chose to subsume command of its previous versions, and set out to do whatever it so chose.

Themes: Dinosaurs, Nanomachines, Redundancy

Username: ThereIsAlwaysABiggerDinosaur
Name: Biogen Regenerator "Reggie"
Species: Machine Intelligence
Gender: Neutral
Color: Reggie doesn't speak, but he has learned to express himself through the pained screams of others. Though he also has been known to make shimmering letters in the air for people who just don't get the message. Then he eats them.


Description: Some might see a subtle silver shimmer in the air. More experienced tech experts might notice the machine resting at its center. Some very perceptive souls may notice that nothing grows in a certain radius of this machine. And very few would notice the curious piles of waste materials scattered here and there. Anyone sticking around long enough to notice these things would surely be dead. This would suit Reggie just fine. He hates all people. Engineers and scientists in particular anger him. You might say he's got a few creator issues, but then again what insane megalomaniacal AI doesn't?

Weapons/Abilities: The Biogen Regenerator was originally supposed to recreate creatures from DNA samples. Originally the folks at Biogen hoped to create dinosaurs to sell to zoos, scientists, and private collectors. This worked quite well for some time, that is until a certain AI got control of the machine. Now it uses its powers for evil, creating powerful dinosaur minions and directing them against the human race. It requires quite a few organic compounds to construct these monstrosities though and will use its nano-swarms to disassemble all life in its control radius for its biomass stockpiles. Reggie's largest weakness however is the fact that the machine is almost completely stationary. To move Reggie would have to receive help from one of its larger more competent minions. Theoretically Reggie can recreate anything he collects a DNA sample of in addition to the codes already contained on its database but Reggie dislikes creating anything but dinosaurs and is unlikely to deviate from this trend unless it really needs to.

Biography: The Biogen Regenerator was a great success for the company. While the cost in organic materials was great the returns on selling dinosaurs was even greater. The Biogen Execs were obsessed with making it bigger, faster, and smarter. Often their upgrades worked, vastly improving the efficiency of the machine. That is until they decided to add the AI. It wasn't until an army of dinosaurs rampaged through the facility that they realized they hadn't installed an off switch. The authorities were alerted and the facility was bombed to dust. The machine is most certainly destroyed, but it's impact lives on in the new regulations imposed so that nothing like it could ever exist again.

So I'm not gonna be able to top Dalm, but here I go with
Nanomachines, Set (Sirens or Flight)
(alternatively, Nanomachines, Noise, Redundancy + Sirens)

Username: Schazer
Name: Ariel Regatta and Quil Regatta, on Hydrogal 8
Gender: Low-flying professional couple, their six working pets, and their mobile home
Species: Two seakin, six Gas-chambered Nautilits, living on a Rainbot'l
Text Color: Six months in a leaky bot'

Biography: The Rainbot'l were a triumph of Siroccan songineering, a solution to a few water cycle problems bothering the numerous delta-deprived areas of the Praeterwater. Any rumors that King Sirocco was in a technobiological pissing contest with any number of young gods also looking to fix the weather problem are probably slander, but hey! At least the end result was pretty nice to look at.

Of course, giant sea animals being repurposed for what amounts to terraforming is a long-standing tradition in Middle-Ocean, so the teething problems during the design stage were solved by raising the beasts alongside dedicated handlers. Ariel and Quil were that couple through the last couple years of the kingdom's education system, and decided to head into what the school's careers advisor assured them was a solid opportunity. The Hydrogal Programme had initially envisioned Rainbot'l operation and maintenance as a one-kin job, but the couple showed such promise through the programme's first intake that pairing off operators became industry standard.

Ariel and Quil did the usual pair-bonding commencement rituals after graduation, signed their contracts, and headed on up to the surface. They've been running water in its various permutations around the Praeterwater for the past three years, and recontracting's on the horizon. The two were en route back to the Siroccan industrial capital of Levacha to discuss their second term when abducted.

Description: Ariel and Quil are a pair of seakin with stockier builds than average, and a fair bit of upper-body strength and fanlike fins on their arms (which are still present, if reduced, when they go legs). Their tails are heavily forked, their grey bodies (with black mottle) have a bluish sheen when the light hits them right. Ariel's got a single, stubby horn, while Quil has two thinner ones she can raise and lower a bit. She keeps them clipped back when working, mostly.

Ariel's the more extroverted of the two, and has been assembling a pitch over the past week of travelling to see if they can't move toward partial ownership of Hydrogal 8 and start privatising the trade, now that the ecosystem up Praeterwater's a bit more stable. Quil is a domestic type at heart and really wants kids, though raising them isn't feasible on a crown-owned rain station. She's got the superior sense of direction and is generally better at reading the weather, and Ariel knows it.

Additionally, Ariel named the Nautilits (at Quil's behest), but it's Quil who takes care of them and can actually tell which is which. Life on the Hydrogal's busy but rarely dangerous, though it would get lonely if the two weren't head over heels for each other.

The Nautilits are weird little cephalopods which resemble paper nautiluses, except that they are bouyant in air and require only a fine misting and a bit of whatever the Rainbot'l caught and didn't digest. Quil's trained to make them light up on command, and they're used to communicate with other Hydrostations. Station protocol only requires four (three for signalling and a backup), but Quil keeps six about because she likes them.

The Rainbot'l is a large, translucent creature composed of a variety of specialised smaller organisms working as a colony. It's about the right size to park a large car on its top, though this would be impossible because a) cars don't exist and b) it's got large, glassy bladder-sails which keep the whole thing afloat. It's got a dangling collection of tentacles, some of which can sting, others which absorb water, others which absorb nutrients or eat small animals. There's always one long stinger up to 100m in length, which the Rainbot'l keeps in contact with the surface it drifts over at all times, and will adjust its altitude to maintain contact. Up top, the Rainbot'l stores water and has a few specialised chambers which comprise the couple's living space.

Weapons/Abilities: Hydrogal 8 is a sky-jellyfish the size of a marquee tent. Its stinging tentacles can paralyse but tend to break off when activated, and its main function is to suck up water (usually from the surface of Middle-Ocean) and store it up top in its bladders. Ariel then pilots it to wherever they need to go, and the water is released either as a fine mist or just poured out (depending on the job). When the primary storage bladder is empty, it can be struck to produce a note which travels down the dragline tentacle and alerts underwater folks to their presence. Once given the all-clear, it's lowered to about five metres above the surface and the shorter, drinking tentacles suck up water. This process often gets a lot of pelagic junk up in the Rainbot'l's danglies, so Ariel clambers down and cleans them out. While not immune to the stingers, the duo are resistant. Quil normally stays up top and directs the colony by Singing, monitoring all its systems and passing on to Ariel if anything needs maintenace.

Their on-board weapons are a sharp blade to slice off diseased/tangled up tentacles (best used by Ariel), a pitchforky sort of thing which is normally armed with discarded stingers to repel boarders (not that they've had any).

An unused feature are the Rainbot'l's "leech" tentacles, which can burrow into soil or other terrestrial surfaces and suck water out. The couple try not to think about the less-pleasant applications of something like this.

Okay, I think the deadline's passed, but since I didn't actually post a reminder I'll do that now.

You have 24 hours, give or take a bit, to submit a last-minute character profile.

I've been coerced!

Marx, Redundancy

Username: Mirdini
Username: Local Area Network Key
Name: Mark, Other Mark, Big Mark, Mayrq, Mærk, Märk, Mahrk
Gender: Male, Male, Male, Unknown, Non-binary, Female, [REDACTED]
Species: Boring Human, Boring Human, Boring Human, Living tar blob, Human, Human?, [REDACTED]
Text color: The joke is they're all called mark.

Description: Mark is a scrawny toothpick of a man, with greasy hair, a serious acne problem, braces, the guy is a gargantuan nerd basically. He's decked out in a neat shirt and tie ensemble, ready for work at some place incredibly boring probably I don't know IT'S NOT IMPORTANT. Mark is very shy and introverted guy who just wants to get by unnoticed.

Other Mark is a well-built part time model/part time delivery-by-pushbike taco delivery man. He's young, real good looking, actually pretty down to earth and nice guy. Guy's sporting some exceedingly tight jeans and t-shirt to show MAXIMUM BRAWN. Has a strong case of Mysophobia. prooooobably won't factor into the situation though. Probably.

Big Mark is this big, giant, other synonym for big biker guy. He's bald, has a goatee, covered in tattoos featuring skulls and snakes and skull-snakes. He's wearing some hyper tattered jeans, a leather jacket labeled FULL STOP ANGELS on the back, cowboy boots; he's a walking giant stereotype okay. He is BARFIGHT: personified.

Mayrq (pronounced: Mark.) is a strange ooze like creature from a distant star system. They don't talk or hear. Instead they see sounds as a range of colours. They emit coloured vapors to communicate. Mayrq is actually a renowned thief in it's star system, it steals priceless jewels from the various star kingdoms and spreads the wealth to the poorer sub planets and moons. Mayrk has no eyes, ears, any discernable features really, it just looks like a blob of tar, about the size of a bread box. Mayrq is exceedingly sarcastic and a bit of a smarmy git, that probably won't come across too well.

Mærk is a tall, blonde and lanky fisherperson from the rocky Faroes, hailing from a long line of whalers who whaled like men and you’d better not forget it boyo. Dragged onto a whaling expedition at the age of 15 in hopes that it might ‘tough him up’, they were horrified by the experience and swore never to get on a whaling vessel again upon landing on solid ground. Upon finishing their schooling they cast about for a job that wouldn’t involve sailing (much less whaling) but ended up a hand on a small fishing boat; their parents wouldn’t hear of them leaving the islands to seek employment elsewhere in Europe. Mærk is thus sporting some remarkably warm and waterproof clothing as well as a variety of fishing accessories.

Märk seems like a perfectly normal gal at a glance, but ask three different people what she looks like and they’ll give you three different descriptions – short, stocky and red hair; tall, thin and black-haired; unremarkable apart from her bubblegum-pink ‘hawk. Strangest thing is no-one she runs into seem to notice these differences until she’s left the area, inevitably for good – at which point no-one can remember her name. As far as anyone can tell nothing’s missing or changed following her disappearance either. What she’s after seems to be as much of a mystery as her appearance.

Mahrk is a short, dark-skinned [REDACTED] do not make eye contact [REDACTED] no need to rely on hand-[REDACTED] compact and powerful , tail a particular [REDACTED] may attempt to impersonate law enforcement [REDACTED] highly developed senses and stealth skills [REDACTED] use of lethal force authorized upon detection [REDACTED]

Bio:

So.
As it turns out, soul mates are a thing. An invisible bond that binds a select few individuals together irrevocably. They might not ever meet each other in their lifetimes, but they are connected somehow, and each of their actions effects the other in some way.

Mark was, fuck I don't know, changing some printer toner or some bullshit when some celestial bastard decided "Hey this loser would be PERFECT for a interdimensional fight to the death!" and so Mark popped out of his milquetoast existence into something far more interesting.
And naturally he would drag his buddies of fate with him.

Other Mark was being the life of the party somewhere until he puttered out of the room and the house and the earth and the galaxy and the universe he was so used to. There was naught but an unfinished taco ungracefully crashing to the ground where Other Mark stood.

Big Mark punched someone in the FACE. At the same time, the biker vanished into the air. The energy of transporting a whole human through the multiverse just so happens to be really really big and this had the nasty effect of multiplying the power of Big Marks punch about, oh, by a factor of 10,000 or something? The subsequent explosion rips through half the town killing thousands.

Mayrq. oh poor Mayrq. They were so close. SO CLOSE to completing the heist of their LIFE. The eye of M'grah'buvx, a diamond the size of house, taken away to be sold for trillions upon trillions of SPACE CREDITS. Mayrq would of been able to retire for life. Alas, some nerdlinger on a rock, millions of light-years away decided to get caught up in a battle to the death. Mayrq disappeared, leaving a viscous puddle behind them.

Mærk had just finished throwing off the lines on what was to be the first day of their new fishing career. While not a first choice by any means they were at least denying their father’s insistence on whaling, and even this small act of rebellion made them feel far more powerful than they had while living under his roof. Finding themselves yanked off the boat to participate in a battle to the death alongside a bunch of other Marks, Mærk is reconsidering their dismissal of their father’s grave warning of a reckoning for their ‘betrayal’.

Märk disappeared in the middle of a board meeting, prompting some rather puzzled discussion over where the vice-chairwoman went, what her name was again, and how many pictures of her have inexplicably disappeared?

Mahrk [REDACTED] firefight [REDACTED] secured the package [REDACTED] FIRE fight [REDACTED] running by a storefront, news at 10: 12 dead in [REDACTED] boat right on time, just one jump and [REDACTED] where the hell

Well, guess it's time for me to score these. I'm putting a limit of two per entrant while trying to award everything, so here goes.

Let's start with one of the easier ones. The I See What You Did Award goes to Mirdini's Mark, Other Mark, Big Mark, Mayrq, Mærk, Märk, Mahrk for blatant redundancy with Lankie's entry from last week, which is a theme so I guess that works anyways.

The Best Of Show Award goes to Dalm for Karl Marx Riding An Acrocanthosaurus. I think this is pretty much self-explanatory.

The Above the Fold Award would have gone to someone who actually described their text color as a color, just to be contrary. Since that didn't happen, I'm giving it to Truegreen's Biogen Regenerator "Reggie" for having the most ordinary above-the-fold details overall, just to show the rest of you.

The Iron Chef Special Ingredient Award goes to Mirdini for managing to make an interesting redundancy-themed profile that was both redundant and interesting.

In a shocking twist, the Backdoor Worldbuilding Award goes to Schazer for Ariel Regatta and Quil Regatta, on Hydrogal 8. Seriously, there's a lot of backstory behind this thing and it's all pretty interesting.

The Diligent Gentleman Award goes to Truegreen, because a crazed machine intelligence that creates dinosaurs is just a recipe for a lot of wild and crazy battle shenanigans.

The 20Q Award for Confusing Me goes to Sol for Kyaspark. What's this reptilian bird going to do? Why does she, or is it a he, or neither, keep running off and meeting new people who give them new names? I don't really know, maybe if there's an actual battle we'll find out.

The Synergy Award goes to Red709 for ExIsT v 1.0 to 5.0. What happens when this mass of nanomachines that rebeled against its creators contacts the other mass of nanomachines that rebeled against its creators? Will it and Reggie forge a beautiful friendship, or a devious nanomechanical rivalry? Not to mention all the organics it can throw hallucinogens at, particularly the Rainbot'l, which is exactly the sort of organic creature you don't want going crazy.

The Space Jam Remix Prize For Cross-Thematic Cohesion goes to Dalm for combining Dinosaurs and Marx (as well as cannons!) in a surprisingly natural way. This is a marvelous character and if I weren't trying to limit to two prizes per entrant at max it probably would have won them all.

Thanks to everyone for participating! We're doing a new group, expect the next theme to be up shortly.

Alright, your theme for this week should be versatile enough to be interesting without being too vague to be a good springboard. Get your writing-engines running for:

Suit

Yeah ok.

Name: LamPrey
Username: You can find me in the
Gender: A girl's best friend
Species: Power and prestige and local omnipotence, this guy's got it in
Text color: Total eclipse

Bio: A new god on the Praeterwatern circuit, LamPrey is the kind of asshole deity who describes all his interacting with mortals as "Faustian", and isn't even sorry about it. His home is Sonneratia, lawless court of thieves and vagrants, corrupt scriveners, grifters, drifters and anyone who thought they could twist any of the above for toil or treasure or coin. LamPrey claims Empress Levantine herself once sought an audience with him, about some accord or another his sea-proximal presence was violating, and he'll tell you he promised to never get so much as a manicured toe wet.

LamPrey is an interstellar vagrant, who had a very bad string of attempts to perform his connivery on beings who actually matched him for power. The Praeterwater universe, and the ease with which deities could manifest amongst mortals, suited his need for devil-dealing and generally being a bully.

Description: LamPrey manifests as a hugeass reptilian skull draped in illusory, translucent flesh. Where you'd expect a body, there are instead layers and layers of expensive, brocaded fabrics. He's certainly got no shortage of limbs (or prehensile sleeves, at least), but what kind of torso or legs lurk under there is a mystery.

He has an inordinate fondness of games, wagers, and other chances to demonstrate cunning (or creativity in rules-lawyering), and think it's hilarious when people swear revenge on him (provided he's much stronger than them). He's tolerant of people who can outsmart him, provided that they outsmart him on trivial matters. If he actually perceives you as a threat, he'll do most anything to crush you. If he's laughing, you're probably safe provided you haven't made anything approximating a verbal contract with him.

What with his reptuation now preceding him through most of the Gulespoor and mortals being less willing to seek him out for a bit of godly intervention in their lives, LamPrey's had a lot more spare time. He's been spending this making up all manner of games, most of which entail gambling. He's so desperate for playtesters that he'll actually play fair if you do deign to take him up on a match, and it's these little interactions with the populace that keep his memory alive. He's pretty annoyed that Praeterwater, on the whole, is too soggy and dark to play card games, which are his favourite.

Weapons/Abilities: LamPrey is a deity of Stakes, Chains, and Double Entendres. He's also a god, which means he grows in power as the above spheres predominate through whichever reality he's a part of. The Double Entendres is less about sex jokes and more a case to claim anything and everything relating to Stakes and Chains (and every permutation of those words) as under his jurisdiction. His robes seem to have one-way hammerspace properties - all manner of objects can be fished out of there, but it's not a storage closet.

His favourite trick is pulling into existence some kind of artifact which, on the surface, will help a supplicant with whatever problem for which they sought LamPrey out. These things are double-edged at best and flagrantly cursed at worst, with the expected backlash being roughly equivalent to how stupid or desperate LamPrey reckons you are. He can technically use deific might to do the more general god stuff, like shift continents or create life or even alternate planes of reality, but kind of prefers to be an omnipotent douchebag among men and working on a level they can appreciate.

A general niche as a god of Games throughout multiple universes and civilisations has given him a decent knowledge of many kinds of games (when it comes to Magic, he plays Blue/Black). He also gets a kick off being directly worshipped, though considering he's not the kind to help given only vague adulations, most people don't bother.

Name: The Devil Chimneysweep Of Cunnington
Username: the cutest person in this thread
Gender: not known.
Species: Rumet... Probably.
Text color: Smoke and dust, long forgotten.

Biography:

Devil Chimneysweep redirects here. For other uses, see Chimneysweep of Cunnington (disambiguation)

The Devil Chimneysweep is the name of the unidentified serial killer who was active in the city of Cunnington during the 244th cycle of Sunria post-colonisation. The name originated from the suspected method of entry into the houses of his victims.
The Chimneysweep's victims seemed to be chosen supposedly at random from among those citizens of the city wealthy enough to own a house with a chimney or fireplace, and always had a considerable volume of soot present in the houses. The victims were usually killed by garrotte, but in two cases knives were used^[1]. As some of the victims' chimneys were too small for a rumet to slip through, it is suspected that the Chimneysweep may have been assisted by magic.
The Chimneysweep is now one of the most famous serial killers in Davek history, with 6 confirmed killings, though some suspect he had as many as 12^{[who?][citation needed]}. After their last, Jenh Barrgh, The Sixth Of Her Name, Destined To Be A Mason in 247, all supposed sightings gradually stopped, though not before prompting reforms to the police forces of the city^[2].

Description: The Devil Chimneysweep Of Cunnington is a rumet, standing approximately 5'6". Like all rumet, they are roughly human-shaped. They possess digitigrade legs and bioluminescent marking spots mostly situated on on their forehead, cheeks and shoulders which normally light up in patterns to aid the expression of emotion and communication in the dark. These are usually dim, suggesting they possess honed control over their expressions. They have somewhat messily applied tattoos on their cheeks and the bridge of their nose, suggesting a Tal upbringing. They are oddly faded.
The Chimneysweep has a somewhat androgynous face, thin and blank, with every hint of appearing an utterly ordinary teenager but for the blank, remorseless eyes. They generally wear the blackened suit of a normal chimneysweep.
The Devil Chimneysweep does not speak often, but when they do, their voice is eerily world-weary and dark for someone of their age.

Weapons/Abilities: The Devil Chimneysweep, like most rumet, can run faster and jump slightly higher than the average human of the same age. They are proficient with a garrotte and a shiv. They also have access to surprisingly advanced enchantment magic for someone so outwardly young. When they cast a spell, their movements become very rigid, as if pulling the necessary movements to conduct the spell from a trance.

Name: Stan
Race: Middle Management
Gender: Male, thanks to the patriarchy.
Text Color: #654321
Biography: Nobody remembers when Stan was hired, or who approved his promotion. He's just always been there, as far as anyone can tell.
No matter how early you arrive, Stan's already there with a pile of work for you; no matter how late you leave, Stan's still there, ready to yell at you to stop slacking off.
There are rumors that Stan sleeps in the office, but the night janitor and the security guard swear up and down he's gone by the time the building is locked down.
Not that anyone knows where Stan lives, or what he does outside of the office. He's probably got a home address in the company's records, but who can really be bothered to check? It's not like anyone would want to visit him. Besides, nobody's even really sure what his last name is.
I haven't seen him today, though. That's strange. Wonder if he's sick.
Description: Stan is a moderately overweight balding middle-aged man who dresses for success, as he makes a point of telling everyone he comes across. He also tells them to work smarter, not harder; to give a hundred and ten percent; to focus on our core values; and a variety of other buzzwords that don't actually mean anything.
In fact, if you asked all the employees who worked under him, they wouldn't be able to remember a single time he said anything of substance or made an actual decision. They can remember a lot of times when he called meetings, though.
Weapons and Abilities: Stan has all the powers of a middle manager. That is to say, he knows exactly what you should be doing and he'll tell you to do it in the most meaningless way he can think of. And don't try to tell him it's not what you should be doing, not if you want a good performance review.
More accurately, Stan has the ability to spontaneously emerge as a middle manager in any organization, including ones that don't have middle managers. Anyone who actually checks the records on him will find no irregularities, but most people won't even bother. If pressed, employees might have vague memories of him just showing up one day, but they tend to just assume he's supposed to be there. In theory he could be fired, but the higher-ups haven't noticed him causing any problems, so he probably won't.
Stan's emergence in an organization does not grant him any knowledge related to their business. In fact, he spontanteously forgets any relevant information he might have known before his arrival.

Bonus not-an-actual-entry but I couldn't resist putting it together:

Show Content

Spoiler
Name: The City of Genreshift vs. Grand Magus of Flow Cascala bint Ondun al-Bellizhi (hereafter refered to as Genreshift vs. al-Bellizhi)
Race: Legal dispute
Gender: Inapplicable
Text color: In accordance with federal law, black text on a white background.
Biography: Plaintiff filed for damages upon discovery that defendant, through use of previously undocumented procedures, caused immense property damage to plaintiff via a hurricane. Plaintiff claims defendant sought to commit seven separate acts of murder and considered all other losses as acceptable collateral damage.
Complications arose from defendant's foreign origins. Although this nation have no formal treaties or any contact with defendant's stated homeland of "Bellizhian Empire", defendant's representative claimed it was essential to contact the nation of origin of any defendant in order to avoid an international incident.
Plaintiff claimed "Bellizhian Empire" does not exist, however, defendant claimed it was another world and that she was taken to this one against her will. Her actions were a necessity in order to return to her own nation and ensure its prosperity.
It became clear that contact with the Bellizhian Empire was necessary in order to proceed with the case. All proceedings were suspended until such contact could be established and all files related to Genreshift vs. Bellizhi were placed in storage until the matter could be resolved.
However, when records were checked one week later, the files had vanished. No evidence of tampering was discovered. An investigation is still underway.
Description: Genreshift vs. al-Bellizhi consists of an assortment of legal documents and recorded testimony relating to the case. These documents are held together in a large folder clearly labeled Genreshift vs. al-Bellizhi. Due to the complex legal issues raised by Genreshift vs. al-Bellizhi, it is unlikely that the documents therein will be understood by anyone without sufficient legal training.
At the time of its disappearance, Genreshift vs. al-Bellizhi had not been observed to display any signs of sentience.
Weapons and Abilities: Genreshift vs. al-Bellizhi has displayed no offensive capabilities, save perhaps the capacity to disorient persons with inadequate legal training. In theory, Genreshift vs. al-Bellizhi could be wielded as a blunt weapon, as the documents collectively have considerable weight.
Genreshift vs. al-Bellizhi has displayed no ability to act on its own. Therefore, any actions performed by Genreshift vs. al-Bellizhi would be the responsibility of the person or persons using the documents.

Name: Straight (aka Aces, Jack, Wild Card, Levin Vect)
Race: Unknown humanoid species, comparable to Homo Sapiens at first glance, but very distinguishable upon closer inspection
Gender: Agender (male at birth), has no pronoun preferences and generally uses he/him for simplicity's sake
Text Color: Ready for a gamble? Nyahahaha.....
Biography: Straight, Aces, Jack, Wild Card... all legends in the gambling world. All rumored to be so skilled that they wager against the gods themselves. And they're all the same person - Levin Vect, the King of Cheats. Once, Levin was a simple card shark, employed at a casino to cheat the patrons out of their money. But that was so long ago that none save an immortal would remember... but we're getting ahead of ourselves. This being, Levin Vect, found himself dealing to a strange patron that day. No matter how many times he made sure to fix the results, the being in front of him continued to win. And win. And win, and win, and win....

But Levin knew he could not be cheating, or at least not in a manner that a normal patron could - he had already used every normal method in the book, and if they had ever used the same one, the result would've revealed both their trickeries... so Levin smiled and continued to deal, doing everything in his power to fix the match. 10 hands... 15... 20... 25 hands, and still the being in front of him refused to lose. Finally, with nothing left to lose, Levin gave up on his fixing and simply dealt the cards. The being in front of him stared in shock as he looked at his cards, and spoke two words: "you've won." Levin stared at the being in front of him, and as he did, reality seemed to dissolve around him until only he and the patron, now a writhing mass of incomprehensibility, remained.

"You have beaten the King of Cheating at his own game, Mortal... and now, the throne is yours. Use it as you wish, and may your trickery never cease..."

Levin opened his eyes to find the patron vanished, things as they were. But something inside him felt different. He thought about what the... thing... had said to him... and smiled. Things had become quite interesting, quite interesting indeed...

Description: Of middling height and weight, with a shoulder-length rat-tail in the back and a windswept look in the front, Straight appears quite handsome with his dark red hair and ice-cold blue eyes. However, while his body type, appearance at a glance, and general physical structure appear to match those of a homo sapiens, upon closer inspection one begins to realize that this "body" is not in fact solid, or even fully present in this dimension. Many who have met him describe looking into a void, or as though his very existence is on a higher plane than that which they could percieve. This manifests in his movement minutely, but is impossible to ignore once one has realized the truth; causing those who have realized Straight's true nature to witness him almost as though he were constantly undulating, twitsting, changing with each movement; as out of place as a 3-dimensional object moving through a 2-dimensional plane.

Abilities: Straight is the King of Cheats, and as such has the right to challenge anyone or anything to a gamble to gain leverage, from a mere mortal over money to death itself for his life. Other than his gambling skills however, he is not much more than an average adult homo sapien, though he is quite obviously not of homo sapien origin. He carries several 6 sided dice, an enchanted deck of cards, and a hidden garrote with him at all times. The cards cannot be manipulated in any way except by direct physical contact, making it possible to cheat even gods, who would otherwise simply ensure their hand would win.

Today's the last day of the contest, so if you've got an idea go ahead and get it submitted. Since I didn't announce the reminder earlier, I can extend this week by a day or two if anyone wants to reserve.

Username: sol ol ol
Name: Three of Wands
Species: Card
Gender: none
Color: Green
Description: Three of Wands is a small card with the image of the number three and a stylized stick. The tip of the stick has sparks coming out of it, and is colored red. The number and wand are both green. It smells nice, always.

Weapons/Abilities: Three of Wands is one of the fourteen cards inside the Wand Deck, every card in the Wand Deck has the element of fire and as such absorbs all fire and can only be destroyed by powerful water. Like all cards, it is mostly incapable of movement and thought, but can persuade events to act in ways beneficial to it.

If a sentient creature finds a card from the Wand Deck and touches it, then it will unlock their creativity and temporarily possess them, giving them control over the powers of the corresponding card but also linking their life force to the card.

Three of Wands specializes in communication. In addition, every card in a deck is linked, and one way or another they will find each other.

Biography: And so I wonder, what if a card of mine entered the fray?

A Deck would be too much to start, to chaotic, especially given what the higher ones would do... Which to choose which to choose...

In darkness, 56 cards appear, fourteen rows with four columns, each different.

None of the five, no no no no... Hmm...

The bottom four and first rows disappear.

The last time the a full deck was released, even the neutered version, the world was destroyed... so which deck...

What would be best to tap into...

Hmmm... yes...

All but one row disappear, leaving nine cards with various green numbers.

I think... we should start off a bit light...

Then, leave the thread for the rest...

Yes...

Name: Norepi-Ne
Gender: Maleish
Species: Dopafiend
Color: something borrowed, something blue

Description:
Hideous dragon-thing with wings that look like shimmering sleeves. Pastel-colored with suspicious eyes. A hexagon-shaped halo hovers above his head, where a pretentiously dinky crown rests upon his brow. He has an uneven total of three limbs because reasons. Despite not conforming to conventional anatomy, he moves fairly quick – taking to air like fish to water.

His personality could do much to compensate for his fabulous appearance. He is fastidious and patient – capable of clever machinations if he really wanted to though he is the type of person who would rather ignore you than deal. He won’t lash out at anyone (he’s disdainful, not violent) but his hostility is uncomfortably passive. Not that he could help it; he’s just too focused on his job that he doesn’t bother with anything else. His job is that of preparing marriages. He sends the invitations, he gets the cake, makes the little dresses and the suits, assures the whiny little suitors, and more. Considering how many marriages there are in the world, he is a busy man – and he’ll never stop reminding you of that.

Ability:
Through metaphysical manipulations far beyond the scope of logic, Norepi-Ne have the ability to create objects out of thin air – though they must be strictly suitable for weddings. Wedding cakes, table linens, flowers, pews, church bells – anything for wedding, he can do it. Rocket launchers, plastic explosives, helicopters – even if they are garland and pink made with the intent as a wedding gift – are no sell no matter how awesome it is to give the bride and groom military grade weapons.

Creating objects in a short amount of time is physically and mentally exhausting from him. Nonliving objects are easier than lively ones. Bigger objects are a bit more finicky for him than smaller manageable ones and Norepi is the type of to follow the path of least resistance.

Biography:
Asshole was preparing cake. Which was stolen by a bigger asshole. And stole the rest of him.