RE: [0/8?] Something Awesome [Signups end 5/21]
05-17-2013, 03:22 AM
Name:
Robert Albert Bigfreid
Description:
6 ‘o clock. Weekday morning. The students of Silver Hills High School stumble through the halls, drunk on sleep deprivation after staying up all night on Tumblr and Xbox Live. They mingle in the hallways, opening lockers, gossiping about the captain of the football team, and catching up on homework. The bell rings and the students, reluctant and sluggish, lurch to their places in the play that is school life. Down in the Social Studies wing, Robert Bigfreid stumbles into his own classroom, drunk on Jack Daniels and Glenfiddich. He grabs a thermos of old coffee, struggles to the front of the classroom, and puts on the best smile he can force considering the circumstances.
Thus begins the typical day in “Mr. Bigfreid”’s classroom. Armed with a coffee thermos, a tweed jacket, and as much knowledge as a half-assed History degree will get you, he takes the stage at the front of the class and bores everyone within range with his lectures on the gold standard and the importance of the thirteenth amendment. Luckily for both his students and himself, most of the students fall asleep around the halfway mark. Robert typically spends the second half of his class periods nursing his hangover.
Every now and then, Robert’s lessons are interrupted by the thunder of artillery and mines echoing all around, that platoon of young soldiers pinned under enemy fire in that jungle while “Rob” tries deactivating the IED his friend just stepped on while ducking for cover in the underbrush.
While his students sit in rapt silence, “Mr. Bigfreid” cowers under his desk, whimpering. The jungle invades the space around him, leering inward like the enemy. The enemy he feared so much he lost control. Pissed himself in that fucking jungle, surrounded by goddamn Vietcong and explosives and fear so thick there was no way to escape. Nowhere to run, even now, millions of miles from it. You can’t escape the jungle.
Eventually, the principal comes to tell Robert Bigfreid that it’s all going to be fine. The students would be rounded up and brought back to his classroom so he can assign homework, and everything would be all right. “You’re always keeping them on their toes,” the principal says as he walks out the door, grinning. “That’s what we need you for most.”
Specializations:
Explosives (3)
Drain (3)
Weaknesses:
Manipulation (-1)
Skills:
Coffee Quality Checking
Camouflage
Critiquing
Alcoholism
Research
Favored Stat:
Intelligence
Robert Albert Bigfreid
Description:
6 ‘o clock. Weekday morning. The students of Silver Hills High School stumble through the halls, drunk on sleep deprivation after staying up all night on Tumblr and Xbox Live. They mingle in the hallways, opening lockers, gossiping about the captain of the football team, and catching up on homework. The bell rings and the students, reluctant and sluggish, lurch to their places in the play that is school life. Down in the Social Studies wing, Robert Bigfreid stumbles into his own classroom, drunk on Jack Daniels and Glenfiddich. He grabs a thermos of old coffee, struggles to the front of the classroom, and puts on the best smile he can force considering the circumstances.
Thus begins the typical day in “Mr. Bigfreid”’s classroom. Armed with a coffee thermos, a tweed jacket, and as much knowledge as a half-assed History degree will get you, he takes the stage at the front of the class and bores everyone within range with his lectures on the gold standard and the importance of the thirteenth amendment. Luckily for both his students and himself, most of the students fall asleep around the halfway mark. Robert typically spends the second half of his class periods nursing his hangover.
Every now and then, Robert’s lessons are interrupted by the thunder of artillery and mines echoing all around, that platoon of young soldiers pinned under enemy fire in that jungle while “Rob” tries deactivating the IED his friend just stepped on while ducking for cover in the underbrush.
While his students sit in rapt silence, “Mr. Bigfreid” cowers under his desk, whimpering. The jungle invades the space around him, leering inward like the enemy. The enemy he feared so much he lost control. Pissed himself in that fucking jungle, surrounded by goddamn Vietcong and explosives and fear so thick there was no way to escape. Nowhere to run, even now, millions of miles from it. You can’t escape the jungle.
Eventually, the principal comes to tell Robert Bigfreid that it’s all going to be fine. The students would be rounded up and brought back to his classroom so he can assign homework, and everything would be all right. “You’re always keeping them on their toes,” the principal says as he walks out the door, grinning. “That’s what we need you for most.”
Specializations:
Explosives (3)
Drain (3)
Weaknesses:
Manipulation (-1)
Skills:
Coffee Quality Checking
Camouflage
Critiquing
Alcoholism
Research
Favored Stat:
Intelligence