k

i just like garnering attention for myself like the ho i am



Anyway, just gonna look at the new posts, and act accordingly.

Welp. Not the most original in the world, but eh. It’s what I felt like writing. At least he isn’t particularly tall. Or lanky. Still broody, though.

Name/Alias: Ézéchiel “Fuse” Lafontaine. (French form of Ezekiel, for those curious.)
Age: 38
Power(s): (Will only apply once he has been enlightened, of course.) Ézéchiel’s organic tissue is highly combustible, and he possesses the ability to set any amount of it off at will. To complement this, his skeletal structure is extremely durable, able to resist pressure and tension far beyond the limits of the normal human skeleton. He is also able to regenerate tissue at an accelerated rate, though it is far from being an instant process. The ease and speed of regeneration depend on the severity of the damage. For example, a few layers of skin off the knuckles can be replaced in half a minute or so, while recreating an entire hand or foot can take a good hour or more. Limbs will take several hours while vital organs, providing that Ézéchiel does not die from their failure beforehand, will require two or three days to repair and a week or more to replace. Ézéchiel will begin to spontaneously combust if exposed to intense heat.

Appearance: Most often, Ézéchiel cloths his well-built five-foot-eight frame in a worn-out chocolate bomber jacket, a beige undershirt and old black corduroys. He wears his chestnut hair in a short pony tail and coifs his head with a dirty tan fedora. Shaving having not been part of his regular mourning routine for the past several years, he is most often seen with a healthy amount of unkempt facial hair. A pair of grey, low-budget running shoes are his footwear of choice.

Personality: Ézéchiel suffers from dysthymia, and as such is often sullen and tends to have a stormy view on the world. Following advice from the volunteers at a soup kitchen that he frequented regularly before beginning his journey to Utopia, he tries to force himself to put a positive spin on things. More often than not, however, this only ends in him spouting some ridiculous double-negative nonsense. Ézéchiel carries a bottle of anti-depressants but takes them rarely due to the insomniac effect that they have on him. When he does take them, his view on the world improves somewhat for a few days.

Bio: Ever since lighting that first ant on fire with a magnifying glass, Ézéchiel Lafontaine has had a passion for all manner of pyrotechnics and explosions, from fireworks to volcanoes. Whenever he could spare the time, he was always making plans for his next project involving dancing flames and bright lights. With this one minor exception, the young Ézéchiel lived a happy but unremarkable childhood. Born to two loving middle-class parents in the lovely province of Québec, Canada, he grew up in an old neighborhood on the western shore of Montréal. After completing his CEGEP, he decided to turn his love for things that go boom into a career in special effects for films. With this goal in mind, it was off to the Vancouver Film School.

While studying there, he met Yustina Aleksashkin, a sweet American girl of Russian descent working on a degree in sound design. Despite the language barrier, his English rather poor and her French limited to some already forgotten high school classes, the two managed to hit it off and got along quite well. Marriage followed after university and the pair settled down in Yustina’s home town of Cleveland, Ohio. The couple lived a happy life and both had successful starts to their careers, participating in the creation of several major motion pictures. It was December, two weeks before Christmas, that Ézéchiel's perfect world was toppled over by the cruel winds of fate. Yustina was on a bus with their three year old son, Étienne, on their way home from a trip to the doctor’s, when the vehicle hit a patch of black ice and careened over the edge of the bridge on which they were traveling. The two of them drowned, leaving one dazed and confuse husband and father behind.

Depression came over the unfortunate man’s life like a plague. He was no longer able to work, refused to seek help and within a year was living on the street. Desperate to leave the city of his loss, he went hitchhiking with no particular destination in mind, ending up in New York City. He fell in with a group of thugs and eventually joined an underground street fighting circuit as a way of dealing with the anger that was slowly taking the place of his grief. He fought like a madman, raging at the perceived injustice of his life, eventually earning the respect and fear of many in the underground league. His ferocious fighting style earned him the nickname of Fuse, inspired by the explosive way in which he dealt his knockout blows.

After six years of life on the circuit, tragedy struck again when Markus, a friend that Ézéchiel had come to treat like a brother, was killed by a brutal opponent in a sewer match. That brisk slap of reality shook the Frenchman and reopened the wound of his previous loss. Once again unable to deal with the chagrin and sorrow, Ézéchiel left New York and returned to the life of a vagabond. A homeless outreach program counselor eating lunch with him at a shelter in Iowa managed to convince him to seek out a retreat that she had heard of in the northwestern states, a place where weary souls could find rest. With little else to do, Ézéchiel went on the road again, this time with the goal of finding a certain Victorian mansion in the middle of nowhere.

Extra: - Ézéchiel thinks in French. When I deem it necessary, I will translate and put any originally French passages in [brackets].
- Ézéchiel smokes marijuana every once in a while as an alternative to taking his antidepressants. He carries a small bag of prepared leaves and a wooden pipe in his left coat pocket.
- He thinks Gnosis is pretty bro. (As if.)

I'll be honest I have no clue what's going on anyway.

I guess I shouldn't have mentioned that 2 character s***. I only meant to put it there because someone made 2 characters and I didn't want someone to make more than that. Now there is an overload of characters, and most of them are uninteresting.

People could have taken the effort it takes to write 2 boring characters and make 1 better one.

Whatever, you guys have to sort this s*** out yourself. I'm progressing whenever and you guys will have to carry the burden that I normally would shoulder because I have no clue what everyone is f*** doing.

That's unfortunate. I can't say I'm satisfied with this outcome, but it's even more difficult to say that I disagree with you. It has become a bit of a f***, hasn't it? Whatever.
Why don't you just do a time lapse thing and split us all up so we can be boring in smaller groups? Nobody's going to get any exposition as long as we're all vouching for attention in the same place.

Honestly, I'm a tad muddled as well.

I was planning on having Ézéchiel show up right about now, but perhaps it would be best if I had him come in later or scrapped him entirely and wrote someone over on the Tuphlos side. That would prevent further muddling and complication, and seeing as we have no shortage of broody guys on the utopian side of things, I'm not certain that we need another one. The opposing side is rather lacking in player characters, anyhow.

So can people leave the Utopia, for short-term visits and the like? And yeah it was kinda bad enough that some people already started in it instead of being new to it, but oh well.

I agree.... the only thing we're doing is going around saying 'hi' to everyone. >.>


I'm maybe planning on having one transition over....
*hint, hint*

http://forums.mcleodgaming.com/viewtopic.php?f=24&t=33354

I'm too late...

Yes, which is why two people joined after the RP started. Besides, with the f*** of characters up and about, it hasn't progressed much anyway.

I agree, nothing really happened... so hop on in.

...

I really have nothing to say. I'm going to attempt to sort this s*** out and type something up tonight. Bear with me, as I have a couple things to deal with beforehand, so no promises.

You have my pity.

good luck whim