My characters

Well, here are mine. I'll try not to get TOO attached.


Hansel Schön [Prey-able. Would take unique circumstances otherwise...]

Height: 6'
Weight: 170 lbs (usually 200 lbs with equipment)
Age: 33
Eyes: Black
Hair: Blonde-ish (brown?)
Skin: Deathly pale
Race: Half-fiend (midget fiend, too... 1/4 fiend?)

Description:
Hansel has strong features on his face; they make him look kind of ugly, though he has met more than one chick who digs faces like that. He keeps in good shape, being powerful, but not bulky enough to slow himself down (though that does impose a limit on the sheer strength he has). His skin is a milky, snowy white, with some darker stains at strategic places, such as his back and elbows. Despite all that exotic homeliness, he's got shampoo-ad level hair.
See below for his outfit.

Personality:
Son of an imp and a bad mother, Hansel fails to live up to most people's expectations of a half-fiend. His heritage didn't give him any special powers, he doesn't have much angst to share (despite his heritage didn't give him any special powers), hates lecturing people, or being a smartass when talking (despite he doesn't angst a lot he doesn't preach either), and didn't turn good out of spite (though maybe if he had talked a bit more he would have).
He does live to a fiend's reputation, though; he is preternaturally crafty, completely remorseless, undeniably vicious, and sadistic too. Everything else is secondary to him, and he sheds and puts on the rest of his personality like bow ties. Deep down, it's the same story. He does what he does, and never stops to question what does he want from life.

Background:
Hansel grew up in Hell, raised by his father; his mother died in childbirth (as expected). He breathed politics; maybe if he cared, he'd also be good at them. However, only grudgingly did he come to accept that politics were an important part of his life when he had to take a job as a crook for some minor demon. Now he spends his life doing odds and ends for reasons he doesn't understand, though he always tries (half-heartedly) to make sense of them.
He doesn't know why is it he's stationed in Negav. He remembers the moment his boss told him he was going to Felarya ("Wait, isn't that the place where everything's huge and wants to eat you?"). He's still trying to figure out why, they haven't called him yet to do anything.

Powers, abilities, and equipment:
Hansel doesn't have much that qualifies as a power. He's in good shape and very bright, though.

Armor: Usually, he wears shorts, boots and a top shirt that shows his sexy abs, all of it black. Then he wears greaves, a breastplate, a smooth epaulette, and bracers, all of it strap-on. They're made of cheap steel (he doesn't believe in the defensive value of stronger steels).
Sword: Hansel has a small, straight steel sword. It's small, straight, made of sturdy steel, and it's a sword. Usually, it rests horizontally on his back. Actually, that thing could qualify as a machete if it weren't that it lacks a curve.
Small cloak: He also wears a small black cloak that covers the usually uncovered small of his back. It fastens around the neck with a clasp, but he keeps the clasp rather loose.
Stun gun: Around one of his biceps, he has a small pack of cigarettes. Were the pack to be opened, however, it'd reveal a pocket-sized stun gun. It can fire its electrodes through a manually loaded compressed air device up to 30 feet away, with (death-wish level) aiming, and runs up to 2 minutes of zapping on its batteries (he's got 30 seconds left).
Usually it doesn't work.
Sack: Around his shoulder, he has a strap that leads to a sack on his side. It's a large brown leather sack. On it, he usually has a plastic bottle of mineral water, a lighter, a few covers, some rope, a couple bars of chocolate, a BLT sandwich (with cheese) and a turkey one, a small canteen full of watered-down spirits, a whetstone, a roll of toilet paper, a few large twinkies, some pocky, a Swiss army knife, and a flare gun he bought from a very nice guy (He's still looking for an opportunity to use it). His wallet isn't here because He keeps it in his pocket, and he didn't pack a toothbrush.

Supernatural power (Flash-Stripping): For some unexplainable reason, Hansel's only fiendish power is the ability to take off everything he's wearing in a mere fraction of a second, no matter what. He doesn't have the ability to put it back on at the same speed, though: it takes him the normal amount of time to put anything on. He does, however, have the ability to make this power activate selectively: he could take off only a few things if he was so inclined. Despite it's not very useful, it's versatile: there's no known way to make him unable to take it all off. Even inside an antimagic field and blindfolded, he can undress without any difficulty and in a fraction of second. If stripping was in the Olympics, he'd get the golden cup, hands down.






Norman [Prey]

Height: 5 feet 11 inches
Weight: 160 lbs
Age: 43
Eyes: Red
Hair: Dark
Skin: Fair
Race: Human

Description:
In general, Norman wears heavy black boots, thick black gloves, a snug black robe that covers everything, and a black mask/hood that covers the rest, except for one eye, which is covered by an illusion that makes it look like a red pinpoint of light. He also wears a cloak... which is fastened well.

Personality:
Sullen, withdrawn and more than a bit surly. Tends to make sarcastic remarks, which aren't witty or funny at all. Mildly misogynistic, condescending with newlyweds ("hell awaits you."), and generally cynical.
Will avoid killing sentient life if he can, though. Frankly, he would be a lot less cynical if he could just go around killing everyone he didn't like.

Background:
Norman was a boring man, a goody-two-shoes upstanding citizen, except for the fact that he practiced the arts of necromancy (which, let's say, he ruined for many people who thought necromancers were cool). Never an adventurer, always a book person. The biggest adventure he ever had was getting married, and it didn't end well; he got the worst part of the divorce later (and he was quite well-off, too...). He did, however, manage to hide one prized possession: his ring of power. Until his ex found out about that too, and sent him an official note for a trial. Being the passive-aggressive dick he was reduced to, though compelled to go, he said "what the hell", took a flight he shouldn't, and now he's, well, stranded here. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't really enjoy the views, the way necromancy's power is reduced is what's piqued his interest the most in this place. He's not particularly interested in leaving anymore, either, knowing what awaits him.

Powers, abilities, and equipment:
Necromancy: Norman's primary specialty is necromancy. He weeps for the way it's nerfed, but now more than ever he's glad he's got Tickle ray in it. His necromancy spells are awesomely powerful, and perfectly able to drill through most defenses.
Space Magic: Norman's secondary specialty is... guess. Still, it's nothing like his primary specialty, and he only knows weak spells in it.
Force magic: No fireball for you, Norman! And no forcefields either! Specializing in necromancy don't look like such a bright idea now, do it, foo'?
Divinations: He'll never know what hit him.
Super-Duper Tickle Ray: Norman's weakest necromancy spell is the only one that looks like it's working at all. It's called the Tickle Ray... because that's what it does. It uses dark energies to tickle its enemies with coherent waves of death, and leaves a tickling sensation for ten minutes after the ray's passing. When Norman uses it, however, it turns into a malevolent engine of ticklish doom, an early grave for those unfortunate ticklish creatures to stand in his way. No, he doesn't think it's kinky.
Ring of Arcane Might: This silver-and-emerald artifact can, for a short time, boost the power of its wearer's spells to... "to the next level" has too many interpretations, so let's leave it at "dramatically". Then it has to recharge. Norman dismisses his ring as a bauble, usually, to prevent it from getting the wrong kind of attention.



Armisse [Prey...?]

Height: 5 feet 6 inches
Weight: 120 lbs
Age: 16 (she claims she's 21, though. Magic makes it believable.)
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Skin: Brown
Race: Human

Description:
Armisse's outfit is a mess of bright pink and blue intersparsed with patches of chocolate skin, the likes of which have to be seen to be believed. Well, she fills it up nicely, and that is a nice sight... until she opens her mouth. It's not the teeth, it's the tone of voice. She has a very shrill voice, which thankfully she doesn't pepper with a slurred and indifferent tone.

Personality:
Cheery, upbeat, shallow, irresponsible, irreflexive, prone to misguided, self-centered and hypocritical speeches about truth, justice, love, and assorted goodness. Has no problems with methodical genocide, and thinks eating people is bad, and so is siccing skeletons on them, but setting them on fire and watching them burn is A-Ok. Has standard double standards, and is a dappy airhead.

Background:
Armisse is a self-taught sorcerer from a backwater world not really worth mentioning. She likes fire, and got there... for mysterious reasons. Probably someone played a practical joke on her? Nevertheless, despite her... focused... being, she's very powerful.

Powers, abilities, and equipment:
Force magic Make things go boom: Her secondary specialty. Nevertheless, it's powerful enough to give almost anything pause for thought.
Random Regulation Being luckyer (sic): Her primary specialty. Can replace intelligence in her life... that should tell you just how powerful it is.
Transformation Poof spells: Tertiary speciality. Includes her current form, for example, though she's maintained it for so long that it'd stick even if the spell ended. No, she didn't stop to think what message she's giving by using world-changing power to make herself a desirable carbon-copy of a damaging stereotype.
A knife Jack: She's also concealing a knife. She really thinks she's smart for doing that. Isn't that cute?

Uh... uhmm...

Yeah. I don't know. Just some facepalm and 'why?' Can't you make something that's NOT pokemon related? Not saying you need to give up your life's dreams, it's just that... Pokemon don't belong in Felarya. It's just not a very intelligent idea.

Interesting.

Falcon, Cyndaquil was just a little gag. I prepare those things very late at night, when I can't tell right from wrong, and come to think of it, I'm already regretting it... what would my little sister say if I put her favourite pokémon in a fetish-related site?

Okay, I got it. No pokémon. So, anything about the half-fiend crook who doubles as a stripper and the nerfed necromancer?

A picture of Hansel Schon:
http://devastar.deviantart.com/art/Hansel-Schon-142790729
You can have it flatshaded too. Just click on the brush.

Also... the rest of the characters I'm planning on using in Hansel VS Felarya.

Kaede [Predator]

Height: 6'
Weight: 180 lbs (usually 200 lbs with equipment)
Age: --
Eyes: Black
Hair: Black
Skin: Tan
Race: Nemesis

Description:
Kaede has raven hair, which she usually keeps in two bangs at the sides of her forehead, a short ponytail or bun, and night black eyes. Generally she wears a shirt without sleeves and a skirt, preferring not to wield any weapons or armor if possible. But her most important detail are her lips: she's put so much time and energy working with them, that they seem to have a personality of their own.

Personality:
Flirtatious and shallow, Kaede loves toying with people's attention for a short time, and then pretending to disappear from their lives to appear afterwards whenever she feels like it... specially on their most vulnerable moments. Knowing what people think in their sleep has made her a bit jaundiced, but she's willing to judge people based on their waking actions... not that she gives a damn, of course! She lets the first impression override any further judgement, but that's only because she learned not to care what people really are. She has her fun, tons of it while in people's dreams, eats them when she's bored, and everything else is secondary to her.

Background:
Not much is known about her. Kaede won't say anything... she claims to be a normal woman, though anyone can tell you that there's something amiss. For what is known, she's in Negav city at the time, working for a mysterious contractor...

Powers, abilities, and equipment:
Kaede has a much more focused form of the usual power suite for nemesises. Albeit she sacrifices most of her battle prowess, she's able to strike at her foes in much more vulnerable positions.
Dreamweaving: Kaede's honed her dream-tracking and dream-eating abilities into a form of art. While an individual she's marked is asleep, she is in control of their dreams and aware of their reactions, and has access to everything that they've lived in the day. Rather than merely giving them nightmares, she is able to make them play out exact scenarios [this is, she dictates their every action in the dream], which is useful for observing their reactions in this state where their psyche is most vulnerable. However, her lack of creativity, energy or imagination often limits the usefulness of this ability to just playing with people like they were dolls. Always she ends the dream with them eaten, but she can delay this for as long as she wishes.
Also, she's able to force sleepwalking-related actions, such as making people say things on their sleep, or use supernatural abilities. When Kaede has marked you, it's worse than any other nemesis.



Trish Gorkha [Prey]

Height: 5' 8"
Weight: 150 lbs
Age: 27
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Mauve green
Skin: Tan
Race: Human

Description:
Trish's feminity is an informed characteristic. It's difficult to guess what's its gender, and most people assume male. Nonetheless, her androginous voice belongs to a body with mauve hair and two brown eyes, which usually wears a leather vest, bracers, and pants.

Personality:
A bit too cynical for most people's tastes, and generally a bit of a dick, Trish is a born complainer, the kind that's always wrong. She doesn't really care whether she's right or not, as long as she gets to piss someone off. She loves playing devil's advocate, thus, and hates turnabouts.

Background:
Trish came to Felarya a couple years ago, attracted by the possibility of living forever. However, only a month after beginning, she turned out to be the only survivor of her ill-prepared group. Finding her way back to Negav, she did odd jobs here and there, drinking herself to a stupor and testing how far were people willing to go once they found out it was a girl. So, basically, she's bored.

Powers, abilities, and equipment:
Fire magic: The first thing Trish learned was how to hurl fire. She can do it very well, and knows a wide variety of spells that involve it.
Working with magic: The second thing Trish learned was how to affect existing enchantments. She doesn't do it that well, but she's studied plenty.
No spells: Trish doesn't use spells, she uses her power and nothing more. Albeit her flexibility is maximum, her effectivity is challenged.
Phantasmal Killer: Actually she does have one spell in herself, a spell that invokes the victim's worst fears to overwhelm its senses with terror and leave it helpless. But it's a spell someone put in her, not a spell she's learned.
Surprise: Trish knows how to wield a shotgun.



Rehsams Rehsams [Prey]

Height: 6 feet 7 inches
Weight: 280 lbs
Age: 22
Eyes: Black
Hair: Brown
Skin: Rather dark
Race: Human, Qesjhatam

Description:
Rehsams is a musclebound, hulking colossus, with nice hair, a handsome, clean-shaven face, and some scars on his chest. He wears straps of leather that hold pieces of metal, but calling it armor is kind of a stretch of the imagination. It's more like cheesecake meant for him to show off his muscles without being naked. He also has pants.

Personality:
A simple man who loves a good challenge, Rehsams may seem one-dimensional and generic at times. That's because he is. His first (and usually his only) impulse when confronted with something he can't solve is to smash it. He's trying to work on that, though. Oh, he's a good listener, ladies.

Background:
Rehsams used to be the Leeroy Jenkins among the warriors in his tribe. This behaviour was tolerated only because it worked (he had the kind of strength usually reserved for mythical figures), and because his uncle was the chief... up until the second death that resulted from him rushing off on his own. In the battle after that second death, when he jumped off on his own again, no one followed him into battle... though it took some time for him to realize that. Rehsams got pretty hurt on his own, and was forced to resort to a desperation tactic: he touched the sand and warped into the past. From there, he found his way out of the desert, and somehow got sent back into the present. Not really sure what time it was, he decided not to return to Akaptor lest he cause a paradox, and instead went out into the world.

Powers, abilities, and equipment:
Heroic piece of hunk: Rehsams is pure desert-hardened Felaryan stamina poured into a mould carved out of 280 pounds of muscle. He's relatively slow, though.
Weapons: Knife, hammer, and bow.
Dumbass berserker: Rehsams's strength and valor come at the expense of his common sense. Rehsams doesn't have patience for strategies: if anything comes close enough for him to smash, that's what he does.



Tandy Puarmon [Prey]

Height: 6 feet 3 inches
Weight: 160 lbs
Age: 27
Eyes: Green
Hair: Dark
Skin: Pale
Race: Neko

Description: Tandy's a relatively nondescript neko with a white short robe held in place by a red belt, a backpack, and a pair of shoes.

Personality:
Though a bit more confident than he should, Tandy's a rather pleasant fellow who's always got somewhere to pull a smile from. He has an extraordinarily quick temper: he can get pissed off a lot and very easily, but he calms down at the same speed. As he sees it, life's too short. Well, not exactly... he doesn't have much patience with people but doesn't want to argue either. Of course, this means he often has to agree to disagree to save time.

Background:
Not much. Born in Nekomura, his parents were from the far part of Chidokai, so he spent some time going to and from those parts as a kid without getting eaten. As an adult he got a job as a guide, helping other people do the same. He went through some ups and downs in it, but he's still standing. He's seriously thinking about settling down, though; risking life and limb for dumb people is beginning to lose its charm. His last job will probably be working for Hansel Schön, some albino freak who needs to get through the forest.

Powers, abilities, and equipment:
Weapons: Tandy has a few knives, and some rope.
Excellent physical condition: Even for a neko, Tandy's very fast and tough. Not specially strong, though.
Local: Just assume Tandy's read the wiki about the Chidokai and Dridder forests. It'll be easier on both of us.
Other: Tandy knows how to wield a shotgun.



Will Moegenes [Prey]

Height: 4 feet 4 inches
Weight: 80 lbs
Age: 17 (looks younger, though)
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Rust
Skin: Fair
Race: Neko-Efrii hybrid

Description:
Will looks like a ten-year old with cat ears and a tail. He usually wears a pair of green pants and a brown shirt, his feet occupied by whatever he can find, such as sandals. Somehow, he's cute at that.

Personality:
Will really wants to prove himself a man, though of course he's prone to acting like a kid rather often. Hates being called cute, and sometimes (often) overdoes it while trying to sound manly, ending up being nothing but a damn jerk to anyone who actually treats him like the man he wishes he was. He doesn't notice, however. Also he's a voreaphile (but in his case it's a trauma, not a fetish).

Background:
Will's mother lost her husband to a large predator. For a while, the irony kept her away from the habit of eating tinies, which she indulged even in Negav (bitch...), and she happened to know a guy who was really cute when he was scared. Well, they had a child, the kid never grew up, and when her first child left to become a wandering swordsman (jock...), mommy ate daddy (snack...). He got a job as a fairy hunter (it didn't catch, though. Pun intended), then went back to his mother's to work as a storekeeper, but he realized she saw more and more of his father in him every time, and realized he wanted to get the fuck out of that madhouse while he still was in one piece.

Powers, abilities, and equipment:
Rope use: Will just learned (from Hansel Schön) how to lasso targets with a rope. Not that he learned to do it well, though, but he can more or less throw ropes at people.
Super-cuteness: Will's so damn cute he'll be targetted first whenever multiple targets are available. Whenever in a group, predators always single him out to eat first, and always play with him the longest. Also, his sole presence is able to throw off an ambush, or destroy the timing in an enemy's strategy. When scared, it only gets worse, thanks to his efrii heritage, which makes him cuter than possible for a normal neko. However, it cannot stave off the danger indefinitely; eventually, if no one saves him, he'll get eaten.
So it's like he's so cute it's a superpower.



Joey Morgrave [Prey]

Height: 6 feet 1 inch
Weight: 180 lbs
Age: 36
Eyes: Unseen (but they're brown)
Hair: Black
Skin: Fair
Race: Human, Miratan

Description:
Joey wears a camo vest over a brown shirt, a pair of camo pants, black shoes, a cap, and a backpack. He usually wears sunglasses, and keeps an admirable poker face. His black hair is usually picked up in a ponytail. He's skinny, but muscular. His face has strong features, but it's narrow.

Personality:
Joey is mostly a colossal gun nut. However, he's also a completely fearless man, able to look eye to eye with a giant dridder and make offensive cracks about why he shouldn't be eaten (You don't know where I've been. Also, wash your hands first. Come to think of it, give me a wash too, I'm dirty. Say, do you find all your food lying on the ground?). Supremely confident, though not as foolish as he seems, Joey is a loyal companion who always has a crack at hand... or at least, that's who he pretends to be.
He can't seem to shut up about his guns, too...

Background:
Joey is a colonial Miratan. Not from Felarya, though. He joined the military at the age of 17, proved to be awesome with a shotgun or with his words, and eventually became a specialist in CQB (bringing a gun to a swordfight) and infiltration. He got stationed in Negav at the age of 25, with orders to remain undercover and monitor all suspicious activity that may concern their base ('cause you know, we're just paranoid like that). He's lovin' it there in Felarya (Nowhere else can I screw a 80-year old mama whose buttocks are as good as mine), and so far he's avoided making a name for himself despite having had numerous merc jobs (oh, they're not mercenaries. I don't like that word. Say "independant military contractors") around the zone.

Powers, abilities, and equipment:
Weapon skills: Being a trained soldier, Joey knows how to use a shotgun, a rifle, most sidearms, a combat knife, a big stick, or his fists. Also how to keep them in functioning condition.
"Stingray": Joey's main weapon is a pump-action shotgun with room for 9 rounds. It's got a silencer and uses subsonic rounds; albeit Joey has no illusions to the gun's conspicuousness, he hates the noise even if he loves everything else about the weapon.
"Wyrmling": A secondary weapon he wields is a small break-action shotgun designed for use with one hand. However, since recoil is a property of the shell and not the weapon, Wyrmling cannot fire common shells, unless the wielder has antinatural (I mean it) strength. Instead, as its name implies, it's used to shoot low-recoil flamer rounds, which make it as easy to wield Wyrmling in one hand as it is to wield a common shotgun in both.
"Warthog": Joey's backup weapon is a small revolver. He uses it to "seal the deal" with any enemy that comes close despite Stingray and Wyrmling.
"Walrus": This is just a trench knife with a knuckle guard and a fancy name. Yes, he can use it. Oh god can he use it. "Lefty and Righty": If that's what it comes to, that's all he needs to take out the trash. Or to take your gun from you and pump lead into you with it.
Ammo: Joey has a hundred slug shells in his vest pockets for Stingray, two speed loaders full of supersonic steel saboted slugs (with better range and penetration), a speed loader full of rock salt rounds (which produce excruciating pain... if they get through your skin in the first place), and six flamer rounds for Wyrmling (each of which bursts flames for two seconds, and may set things on fire).
Earplugs: Joey usually wears one earplug, and keeps the other on his neck, ready to put it on whenever it may be necessary to use supersonic rounds without a silencer.