Post by ಠ_ಠ on Dec 27, 2010 2:52:53 GMT -5
David Forson
Tell me why I have to be a Powerslave
Name: David Forson/"Joshua" the demon
Age: 19
Gender: male
Ethnicity: European/Caucasian
Religion: Agnostic
Sexuality: Straight
I don't wanna die, I'm a god! Why can't I live on?
Character Description and History: David Forson had youthful features, blond hair, and big eyes. He dressed well and had a somewhat sleight frame. He looked younger than he was but was smart enough to know that this was a good thing, and he was generally polite and kept out of the way. However his life changed as the polite and shy young adult's life changed.
He was filled with awe at the sight of it, it appeared in his house in a wooden box, just sitting on the table. Within the box was the glove. A metal gauntlet with each finger ending in what looked like a solid, straight claw. Something about the glove just beckoned to him, just begged to be tried on, just once... David slipped the glove onto his hand and closed his eyes, feeling the cold metal against his skin, the leather straps that held the glove in place, he moved his hand inside it, noticing the glove on his arm less and less as he sat down, eyes closed, just feeling the glove on his hand, the cool metal against his skin fading as though he was drifting to sleep...
When he awoke he had forgotten he'd even put it on, and had continued with his day normally, not even noticing how it had seemed to change, how the plates now moved as though they were part of his skin, how the metal fingers, once rigid, now moved as easily as his own fingers. He didn't notice the new feeling in his arm, that strange tingle, that sense of limberness, of muscular awareness, not at first. He noticed he couldn't take it off when he was going to get in the shower, the leather straps were gone, just the glove, there was no visible edge where the plates ended and the skin began, and it hurt to try and move the plates or put anything under them... He'd tried to put a Q-tip under there but it burned. and the Q-tip had red on it.
He had showered with it on, afraid it'd rust, but relieved it didn't. He'd sat down later, becoming aware of that new feeling in his arm, and the sensation of touch running through the glove. He blinked a few times, counting the metal plates... 1... 2... 3... 4... there were 7 layers of plates going up his arm.
He woke up the next morning slowly, His room was full of old books from when he was growing up, from sesame street to The Prince by Machiavelli, He looked over at his arm... 1...2...3...4...5... were there always 9 plates? He flexed the hand, feeling the cold air biting it's skin, Skin? metal? He was just tired and he slept in the gauntlet funny, He got up and quickly went for a shower and some coffee.
I guess you have figured out by now that this poor lad is a bit too easy going. A little too easy going. He means well and he's polite and friendly, though a little shy, and he's a bit too accepting of changes around him. A believer in good luck and good fortunes, the kinda person who'd buy a lottery ticket and actually think he could win the grand prize. The kind of person who wouldn't really question a wooden box with a metal glove that can't be taken off... Absent minded to the point of it being ridiculous, huh?
Character Abilities: The Gauntlet - The right hand, snuggly fit into that odd gauntlet that was mailed to Dave's house, is now remarkably strong. His body's usually been in quite strong but that glove allowed him to pick up a breeze-block and pulverized it to powder with minimal effort. The gauntlet itself is metal and can probably withstand a good deal of damage, how much damage is yet to be seen. Is it worth the dreams though?
As Joshua revealed himself slowly to David, he started to take control of him, first thing he did was "reorganized" a bit, improving David's physical abilities considerably, especially stamina and response time. His armored right hand is also now twice as strong, and Joshua is "re-learning" abilities he'd had in his past life as well as new abilities this form has granted him...
One relearned ability is the Acid Ray. This ability causes a strange arc of green light that seems to pull things apart at a molecular level, certain materials are deconstructed at a different rate, and the ray has not been used at flesh yet.
The Gauntlet hasn't even begun to reveal just what it is yet...
Character Alignment: Good/Evil
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When the life giver dies, all around is laid to waste.
Role play Sample
Dave was walking down the street, it was day, his hand with the glove hung from his arm. He smiled softly as he walked, humming to himself some old tune that he thought was catchy... He saw an old lady standing under a tree, her cat caught in the branches, stuck on a limb. He walked over to the tree and heard the old lady's voice full of stress and dismay.
"Mittens! Mittens! Please come down from there!"
"merow... maow..."
"ohhhh, mittens! Mummy misses you dearly!"
"may I please help? I can climb the tree and get mitten back down for you..."
The old lady turned to David. "ohh... oh thank you so much... do be careful but I would be so grateful if you could help poor mittens..." David smiled and nodded, looking at the tree. He had climbed trees in his youth. The metal claw dug it's pointed 'nails' into the bark and he pulled himself up the trunk slowly, the claw working like an anchor for him, allowing him to find his footing without fear of slipping at the beginning, The trunk's always the hardest part to climb.
He was in the branches now, moving around, Mittens was a fluffy cat, probably a Persian long-fur. She had large, impossibly green eyes and a soft, fuzzy, whiskery face. Dave moved along the branch, carefully reaching out, the warm, metallic fingers of the glove softly moved over Mittens' fur. His muscles disobeyed, the glove tightened. A terrible cry, so much red. The old lady screamed.
David sat upright in bed screaming. He looked around his room, the adrenaline levels rapidly decreasing. His vision was blurred with fear and sleep. Things came into focus, bedroom... bedroom door... the lamp... the bedsheets. A cold sweat clung to his body, and he shuddered, remembering the dream then feeling himself pushing it out of his memory, he looked over at his hand, at the glove, through the darkness of the room he felt a cool liquid all over the palm of it. He prayed it was just sweat, he begged whatever was out there that the liquid was just sweat... He didn't even question how he FELT what was on the surface of the gauntlet.
Dave was walking down the street, it was day, his hand with the glove hung from his arm. He smiled softly as he walked, humming to himself some old tune that he thought was catchy... He saw an old lady standing under a tree, her cat caught in the branches, stuck on a limb. He walked over to the tree and heard the old lady's voice full of stress and dismay.
"Mittens! Mittens! Please come down from there!"
"merow... maow..."
"ohhhh, mittens! Mummy misses you dearly!"
"may I please help? I can climb the tree and get mitten back down for you..."
The old lady turned to David. "ohh... oh thank you so much... do be careful but I would be so grateful if you could help poor mittens..." David smiled and nodded, looking at the tree. He had climbed trees in his youth. The metal claw dug it's pointed 'nails' into the bark and he pulled himself up the trunk slowly, the claw working like an anchor for him, allowing him to find his footing without fear of slipping at the beginning, The trunk's always the hardest part to climb.
He was in the branches now, moving around, Mittens was a fluffy cat, probably a Persian long-fur. She had large, impossibly green eyes and a soft, fuzzy, whiskery face. Dave moved along the branch, carefully reaching out, the warm, metallic fingers of the glove softly moved over Mittens' fur. His muscles disobeyed, the glove tightened. A terrible cry, so much red. The old lady screamed.
David sat upright in bed screaming. He looked around his room, the adrenaline levels rapidly decreasing. His vision was blurred with fear and sleep. Things came into focus, bedroom... bedroom door... the lamp... the bedsheets. A cold sweat clung to his body, and he shuddered, remembering the dream then feeling himself pushing it out of his memory, he looked over at his hand, at the glove, through the darkness of the room he felt a cool liquid all over the palm of it. He prayed it was just sweat, he begged whatever was out there that the liquid was just sweat... He didn't even question how he FELT what was on the surface of the gauntlet.
And in my last hour I'm a slave to the power of death!
Personal Information (Not mandatory)
Name? Clash/Doctor Cube are the names I go by online.
Where can we contact you? my msn is given at request.
Where did you find us? Link from a friend.
What are you going to be bringing to the forum? most likely strife and bad comedy.