RE: The Grand OC SII: The Re-OCening: Week 18: PARTY!
03-29-2017, 03:15 AM
Name: Robert Bilder (or just Bilder)
Race: Toolman
Gender: He/him
Color: kachunk
Description: Bilder is half a man, or more accurately, just over a thirtieth of a man, stretched out over into a vaguely man-shaped figure. Inside him is all manner of power tools and weaponry, all powered by a fiendish tangle of pneumatic and electric hoses. If there's an actual power source in there somewhere, no one has actually seen it. His eyeless sockets house glass orbs instead, retinal chips suspended in them. Every so often he unhinges and airs out a drill or two.
He carries around with him a gigantic socket, about his six-foot height, into which is carved a complex and incomprehensible series of tumblers and grooves. It seems designed as a slot for some tremendous key. Stenciled on one beveled side is a large jet-black 'Y', followed by a slathering of technical jargon in smaller print. It seems to be protocol for inserting this missing part.
Obviously, Bilder is looking for it.
Items/Abilities: He fixes everything in his way. Permanently.
Biography: He has scattered memories of friends, but one was a scarecrow so he no longer really knows what was real and what was, perhaps, a strange and brightly colored fiction. He remembers being taken apart for his talents. He remembers his designation and care of his socket and key. He does not remember where the key went.
They took him apart, into how many parts? Some number. Thirty? Less. A little less. He was a little less, and he did not know anything other than the proper realignment of a ZX-2150a laser saw, and other minutae of the kind. He could fix things. He must have been one of the last ones made, because he remembers having things torn away and knowing you once knew things and loved things and wanted things and not knowing what they were, until the feeling was gone and only he remained.
It hurts. It hurt then, it at this point had ceased to remind him of anything but the proper maintenance and care of a Byrson All-Purpose ANTON (3rd edition), and let's not be hasty but the proper realignment as well. He did not know what pain was anymore, but he remembered that it happened. He is pretty sure that happened. Did his tractor use to talk? Did he have a tractor? Was he the tractor in the end?
Race: Toolman
Gender: He/him
Color: kachunk
Description: Bilder is half a man, or more accurately, just over a thirtieth of a man, stretched out over into a vaguely man-shaped figure. Inside him is all manner of power tools and weaponry, all powered by a fiendish tangle of pneumatic and electric hoses. If there's an actual power source in there somewhere, no one has actually seen it. His eyeless sockets house glass orbs instead, retinal chips suspended in them. Every so often he unhinges and airs out a drill or two.
He carries around with him a gigantic socket, about his six-foot height, into which is carved a complex and incomprehensible series of tumblers and grooves. It seems designed as a slot for some tremendous key. Stenciled on one beveled side is a large jet-black 'Y', followed by a slathering of technical jargon in smaller print. It seems to be protocol for inserting this missing part.
Obviously, Bilder is looking for it.
Items/Abilities: He fixes everything in his way. Permanently.
Biography: He has scattered memories of friends, but one was a scarecrow so he no longer really knows what was real and what was, perhaps, a strange and brightly colored fiction. He remembers being taken apart for his talents. He remembers his designation and care of his socket and key. He does not remember where the key went.
They took him apart, into how many parts? Some number. Thirty? Less. A little less. He was a little less, and he did not know anything other than the proper realignment of a ZX-2150a laser saw, and other minutae of the kind. He could fix things. He must have been one of the last ones made, because he remembers having things torn away and knowing you once knew things and loved things and wanted things and not knowing what they were, until the feeling was gone and only he remained.
It hurts. It hurt then, it at this point had ceased to remind him of anything but the proper maintenance and care of a Byrson All-Purpose ANTON (3rd edition), and let's not be hasty but the proper realignment as well. He did not know what pain was anymore, but he remembered that it happened. He is pretty sure that happened. Did his tractor use to talk? Did he have a tractor? Was he the tractor in the end?
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So very British / But then again | People are machines Machines are people | Oh hai there | There's no time
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Superhero 1920s noir | Multigenre Half-Life | Changing the future | Command line interface
Tu ventire felix? | Clockwork for eternity | Explosions in spacetime