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| Fiore, Victoria | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 8 2013, 06:15 AM (741 Views) | |
| Victoria Fiore | Jul 8 2013, 06:15 AM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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[align=center]PLAYER INFORMATION[/align] NAME: Jack CONTACT: PM please HOW YOU FOUND US: web searching OTHER CHARACTERS ON THE SITE N/A RULES CODE: Blackbird CREDIT WHERE IT'S DUE: [align=center]CHARACTER INFORMATION[/align] [align=center] ![]() Violante Placido[/align] BASIC INFORMATION CANON OR ORIGINAL: Original AFFILIATION: Other FULL NAME: Victoria Fiore CODENAME: That's Miss Fiore to you. NICKNAMES: Vick CURRENT AGE: 24 DATE OF BIRTH: September 1 MARITAL STATUS: Engaged SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual BASE OF OPERATIONS: Manhattan loft; formerly Miami Condo TIME AT INSTITUTE: N/A REGISTERED WITH SHIELD? No HOMETOWN: Syracuse, Italy KNOWN RELATIVES: Fiero Fiore (Father), Florence Fiore (Mother), Felix Lestrax (Fiancee) PHYSICAL APPEARANCE HEIGHT: 5'7 BUILD: Slender, with stringy muscle EYES: Hazel HAIR: Auburn DISTINGUISHING MARKS: roughly triangular birthmark on left buttock CLOTHING STYLE: Ms. Fiore dresses however she pleases, only dressing up when it's important. When she wants or needs to impress. Other than that, she dresses in a casual manner when meeting familiar contacts and newer possibly untrustworthy ones. Denim jackets and t-shirts. Sneakers and jeans. This doesn't mean she doesn't know how to squeeze into a small skirt or suck in her belly for a cute dress. Formality when necessary, casual dress for comfort and maneuverability. UNIFORM: Again, Victoria's dress alters to suit the situation. She'll dress up or down, depending on what she's doing and who she's meeting. POWERS GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Victoria has no superpowers. Instead, she has a sharp business sense, gleaned from a lifetime in her father's house. In addition, she has spend the last four years in Orlando, primarily matching deals for illegal medications and drugs. She practices the art of moving things around that aren't supposed to and the science of finding merchandise that often shouldn't exist and probably shouldn't be bartered. The art of smuggling is one that she's been practicing since her own migration and her craft is fine. As a consequence, she knows librarians, hunters, thieves and pilots. She has researchers on speed dial and texts hackers on a daily basis. In order to properly communicate with her contacts, Victoria is learning German Spanish and French. She is only barely at a conversational level however, still forgets many words and her accent is apparent. She was raised bilingual and can speak Sicilian, Italian, and English with only a slight accent in English. Her parents spoke a mash-up of Sicilian and Italian at home, and she learned English at a young age in school. WEAKNESS: Victoria is a fairly young girl with no superpowers. She is mortal and will reliably die via sickness, injury or age. As a nonmutant, she is near helpless without some sort of weapon or external defense. Sexism aside, Victoria is a young woman who does not exercise like an Amazon. Without something in hand, she is a non-combatant. Although she knows the game and she knows it well, Victoria is still young and though she'd be loath to admit it, she's still green; new to the subtlties of the underworld and ignorant of their more dangerous hazards. She thinks she knows, but she hasn't seen the worst things people will do for money. Her experience is still incomplete. Victoria does not like guns. She doesn't like holding them. She doesn't like shooting them. She hates the noise they make and the way people jerk when shot. If she had her way, she'd never be around them at all, but that's no option at all. She will only handle a firearm after great persuasion or in great duress and even then she'll do it badly without practice. PERSONALITY Victoria is a keen individual. She is used to being lied to and doesn't even take it personally anymore. Lies are tools like any other and it was long ago when she first learned to muddie the line between lies and truth. She is not easily indimidated. She has dined with extortionists and theives. Kissed hitmen on the cheek, waved and went about her day. Violent types do not frighten her; she'd spent years as close to the most volatile temper as one could get. No, violence and anger she can handle. She's learned well how to show the blindly angry where to wield their violent natures. The girl is no empath, but she can detect and wield emotions even better than her blade. At least she usually thinks she can. It would never come from the horse's mouth, but Victoria cannot avoid the fact that she has lived a sheltered and often spoiled existence. While she is void of the tantrum rage or entitlement that generally plagues her ilk, she has the same tendency to affix her gaze and move forward with a somewhat cold determination. She may not scream or threaten, but rest assured she's putting together a plan B. She WILL have what she wants. If not one way, then another. If not now, then later. And once she gets it, her gaze will shift and she'll keep moving. Her kind is difficult to satisfy. Victoria views mutants in general with caution and usually concealed fear. She has no inherent hatred for mutants, but she isn't stupid. Fact is, many of them are dangerous. Very much so and the chances of running into a nasty one is just the same as a nasty baseline human. Which is quite high in New York. She doesn't necessarily agree with the Registration Act; her fiancee and his father are both mutants and their business would suffer if they did. It was also an invasion of privacy. It was too much to ask of anyone to submit to monitoring for preemptive purposes. The only problem was that when a mutant struck, it was never the blue girl with the wonderful voice. Mutants always struck hard. It was always the angry boy with a lighter. The conniving woman who can bend minds. The registration was a moot point. An ineffective measure to make people like her feel safe, only it didn't. So what do you do? How do you keep people from breaking the law? How do you stop people from being racist? Nobody knows, but everybody expects an answer RIGHT NOW. Victoria has many mixed-emotions regarding mutants, but as a general rule she doesn't do business with stranger mutants without the protection of extra guard or Null tech. Mutants never pick null though and the guards never make her feel safer. She'd like to hire mutant guards, but the ones with useful powers are SO EXPENSIVE. HISTORY: PRE-APOCALYPSE Before she was born, the agreement had already been made between Fiero Fiore, boss of Sicilian Mafia and Marcus Lestrax, best friend and assassin. They explained it all very well to both of their wives. Fiero's daughter should marry Marcus's son. We've all been such great friends and Felix is such a lovely boy. Surely Victoria and he will get along wonderfully. It made perfect sense. They never called it an arranged marriage. That sounded forced. They just called it their future. Victoria was born. They celebrated. Felix was introduced to her when she was only a few weeks old, but he did not like the baby who couldn't walk with him. Got frustrated with the infant who's garbled sounds didn't quite match his own. Their parents were not discouraged, for they knew their son's nature. He was impatient but that was okay. This baby was bright. She'd catch up. And they were right. Baby Vickie was indeed bright and once she could walk and speak, all of Mr and Mrs. Fiore and Mr. and Mrs. Lestrax's prophecies started to come true. The two were fast friends. Felix was still impatient, but Victoria always cut to the heart of the matter. It wasn't just Felix either. Victoria went to school and when she did, she socialized her way into every circle. She made friends with anybody who let her. She wasn't universally accepted. Certain kids didn't like her disposition. Didn't trust her smile. Nevertheless, Her cell phone was always buzzing and the girl was capable of finding anything and anyone intriguing. When she turned six, Felix turned ten and his father started homeschooling him. She saw her best friend a little less, but when she did he told her of the stuff his father now taught him in between math and geography. One day, he snuck a gift from his father out of the house. He was supposed to handle it only in the presence of Mr. Lestrax, but he couldn't keep the secret. Unravelling the shirt, he showed her his sword. It was grey; blade, hilt, and scabbard. He'd just gotten it that day. He was later punished for removing it from the house. A few years later, Felix told her he was going to china for a few weeks with his father. It was the first of many such trips. He wouldn't tell her what the business trip was about, said he didn't know but she knew that he knew. He couldn't or wouldn't tell her. No. He could. If he really wanted to. He spent less time at home. They spoke less frequently, but when he was around, he still laughed and lobbed soft red dodgeballs through her window, into her bed. He still shouted from the ground to the second floor for her to stop being a lazy ass and get up. She'd still close her book, always at the crucial moment. She'd toss the balls back, many deflated from pencil holes and slam her window shut, only to spring through glass doors or, if she was daring, an open window with one last dodgeball. Then he'd get called back--always sooner every time. Vickie saw him a little less, but she still had her friend. Sometimes. When she was eight, she saw her father shoot a man in their living room. Well, really she saw the man die in the reflection of broken grey glass. The bullet went through the TV, transforming her counting game with the stuffed vampire into cries of terror as the machine burst and sparked five feet in front of her. In the grey glass, she watched the man's hand slide from his breast pocket, his weapon plop onto the couch beside him. Since then, her father conducted his business away from their home. Nobody would get near his daughter. Vickie saw her father a little less, but she never saw another man die. For a while, Victoria had nightmares of being surrounded by grey shards reflecting dead men. Not always the same one. Sometimes her Father or Felix. Sometimes herself or her mother. She heard explosions; room shattering cracks that made her crinkle her nose from the acrid scent. For months, the nightmares persisted. For years, her mother went with her when they decided she needed a psychiatrist. Victoria had never touched a gun and even as an adult she would prefer somebody else showed off that merch. Eventually she didn't have to see the shrink anymore and her life went back to something like the status quo. Felix was almost always gone now, but her parents had more friends though. More friends with children their age. Victoria met a spanish-american girl enough times to remember that her name was Carmen and that she always found the best parties. They hung out more often when her father was in town and sometimes when he wasn't. She met architects and engineers. The children of her father's more mundane business partners. She was usually introduced to these kids by her mother who tried to distract her from her father's absence and her friend's distance with playdates. It worked for a little while, but playdates are much less entertaining by the time you're fourteen. So she started to distract herself. She started seeing boys and though she was no whore, she saw them frequently. A year later, she started to buy and sell drugs, though she never tried them until a little later. The boys always knew which other one was holding. Those boys always gave her the best deals. Her father wasn't so interested in teaching her as Felix's was in him but that didn't mean she couldn't learn. She saw her father a little less, but she hardly saw him at all anymore and never for long. She ate and slept well though. She couldn't bring herself to be angry, only to find another way into his senses. He wouldn't let her into his business so she grew her own. Her best friend was already doing so. He wouldn't say, but she knew. Then she was arrested. Not really, but it sure seemed so when men in uniform grabbed her roughly by the arms, pushed her to the ground and cuffed her. Then they drove her home where she was greeted by her father. He smiled at them, told them thank you very much officers but I'll take her now, and gave her a look that he thought said "Are you okay?" She knew that he was never concerned for her safety from the law. That was never at risk. He knew she could live like he did. He just didn't want his dove flying through coalmines, however dextrously. He might not have realized it, but that was when she began to construct plan B. At nineteen, Victoria left her home in Italy, stealing her fiancee's car and carrying suitcases full of valuable clothing, paintings, figurines and jewelery bought with her father's money before he could realize what she'd done and freeze her Visa Card. Then she called a friend of hers; the son of a forgery specialist. He altered her passport, changing her name and nationality. She'd need anonymity to escape. Felix had a car in town that he hardly used. She took the car to Rouen, France, where she stole aboard a cruise ship to Fort Lauderdale, Florida. She was a cute young girl with a white smile and six hundred euros in hand. It was her first bribe, but she'd seen it happen before. Sometimes when she knew what was going on, others only became clear in retrospect. Once in America, Victoria contacted a friend of hers; Carmen, another young girl of affluent relations. They'd met several times when they were younger, and luckily Carmen's memory was sharper than it had seemed all those years ago. Ms. Fiore couldn't just appear in the States and go about her business. Not just by bartering raw merchandise. She needed somebody who knew somebody, and Carmen knew a lot of people. She was the uberparty girl Victoria could only shadow. Carmen, also underaged, got Victoria a fake ID (aged 21 so she could drink) and they pawned her whole collection of imported goods. It was a huge loss, but it got her the American cash she needed to accomplish her first steps. Even if she crossed the ocean, she couldn't escape her father's helpful, yet condescending voice. "Business is Chess. Sometimes you sacrifice to gain your strength." Victoria started small. Old players never liked rookies. She started slow. Nicks and halfs for friends. Shh. Don't tell anybody. She selected her confidants carefully, too. When they went from nicks and halfs and started asking about ounces, she knew that somebody had broken the first and second rules. Victoria learned and graduated quickly though. Fast enough that anybody who could notice--nobody her age--would know that no, it was not just to pay the bills and that she was no silly twenty year old who knew only how to hit a blunt and giggle that she didn't usually smoke. Between the laughter she'd still peek over shoulders, read texts and memorize names and numbers. She'd conjecture from halfs of conversations. She gathered information from the people who didn't think to hide it from her. Beauty and charm were valuable tools, but her toolbox went deeper than that. None of her peers noticed their sales drop until the economic shift was too severe for repair. The little girl who didn't seem to know anything knew who their manufacturers and growers were. She learned what Americans would pay and what she could get away with charging. She learned which Americans could be bought. No, She'd had a plan. She'd already learned from haggling with her father how to strike a deal and how to find the favor in it. Eventually she built on her contacts and honed her already shrewd business sense. She knew where her drugs would come from. She knew who to call if something had to be stolen before it could be sold. She wasn't a pro yet but she surrounded herself with them, pretended to be one of them, and learned from them when they weren't looking. She started taking contracts and making larger deals. The value of her merchandise rose and Victoria started contacting people further abroad in order to harness their strengths. When soembody asked her a question, she knew just the person with the answer. You know anybody with some MGH? Hydrocodone? I need a few bars. The answer was always "Sure sweetie, you know I got you." People were less likely to shoot you and steal your wares if they liked you. If you were reliable. And she was. All you had to do was ask and the girl would be on the phone, "I'll call you right back", assembling a cute query in a hundred and fifty characters or less. A vague tweet or a specific text. Maybe a quick call or an email for her older contacts. There was a man who studied historical texts. If she needed him, she had to send a handwritten letter. He was to old for internet. In any case, if it could be found, she'd find it. Or somebody would find it for her. Or tell her who could. Whatever. She hardly saw herself as a criminal. She was just a woman who got people what they wanted. If not one way, then another. Victoria was an adventurous girl though and an ambitions one too. She knew that region would affect income and while Orlando wasn't a bad place to live and do business, she could think of somewhere more exciting. Someplace where her profits could soar without a jealous fat man to worry about. She established a few lasting deals with her growers in Jamaica and her Mexican manufacturers. Some long-term contracts were laid out, so that she wouldn't have to personally oversee every transaction, which had grown exhausting and increasingly dangerous as the value of her merchandise did. With that, she moved to New York, sticking close to the sea; her favorite method of transport. All her really interesting deals had been with New Yorkers anyway, and America was too big for her to spend her life in Orlando. She took off to New York, where she could make new contacts and grow her business. Perhaps a little further from the Kingpin. She flew to the City of Dreams, where maybe she'd learn to cast her own shadow. DURING APOCALYPSE (April 7th through April 12th, 2009) As War's wake led from New York to DC, he fell short of reaching Victoria in Orlando. She lost several contacts that day, but was unharmed. POST-APOCALYPSE After the Apocalypse, Victoria did the best she could, buying food clothing and medicine from places relatively unharmed by the Apocalypse and moving it to ground zero. She ran the deals under a friend's company, since much of the supplies were ran through charitable organizations. PURIFIERS As a human, Victoria was not a target of the Purifiers. On the contrary, she unknowingly supplied them with weapons and equipment, though ignorant of their intentions. She usually keeps it that way. Not her fight, not her problem. So long as they paid what they'd agreed to. She didn't know why he patted her on the shoulder and told her that she was doing God's work and shouldn't be ashamed in her role. Role in what? It didn't matter though. If they did something stupid, it wasn't her business. Not her problem, until she found out anyway. That was when she decided that it just might be her problem, even if only a little bit. Maybe she didn't want to sell guns to crazies who shot up towns and civic centers. Gang beef was one thing, but this... That was when she started brokering not only material goods, but information as well. She wanted to know what other... movers and shakers were up to. That way she'd always know who she was doing business with. She realized that maybe her father had learned that the hard way when she was eight. Then the Risman guy. A curfew? A lockdown? Really? He should have known that in an entire mutant town, there would be one who could and would buck his silly play. How to you lock down men who can fly and teleport? The dome was much more response than she expected, but mostly it confused her. The curfew was avoided, but nobody could be happy about being trapped. Even at home. Even Sentinels were something that worked well in theory, without the human element of fear and hate. High powered police for high powered criminals. She'd been glad for them, until they started attacking innocent mutants. Then she was glad to see them go. She'd been glad to see Stryker go too, but when the Sentinels began their genocide, she'd been sick and frightened. There were innocent mutants who couldn't defend themselves any better than a baseline human. Mutant's who's only crime was having an extra tongue. She wanted to hide them, but she didn't know if the Sentinels would find them. She didn't know if the Sentinels would kill her for helping them. She just knew that no mutant had time to hurt her for locking her door. SKRULLS The Complacency Wave worked to perfection on Victoria. Until freed from Skrull Influence, Victoria was theirs, body and mind. Afterwards, she started checking the markets for telepathic shielding. Never make the same mistake twice. After the Skrull invasion, she realized that she may need some closer contacts and tighter ties if she intended to keep up with... Whatever else was possible. And not get killed, because everytime it seemed to get worse. CURRENT HISTORY A war with the sea was the worst thing possible for Victoria. Her docks were closed. No sailor was willing to risk a venture across the atlantic or even the skip from Canada to New York. Not with sea monsters sinking ships. Nobody wanted to carry any amount of merch. Not with lobsters marching up the beach. Her business can survive for a time, but wars don't end in days. Add to that the crazy notion that people should kill heroes... How messed up was that? Victoria knew people would try though. Spiral's messages were ominous though. She was a law-breaker and had no love of heroes. She'd had to deal with one or two in Orlando, but this was not the same thing. This was not just business. This was cold murder. She couldn't abide it. SAMPLE RP POST: Victoria's heels clip-clopped hurriedly down the Parisian road, her braceleted hand jingled while she lugging her roll-along suitcase behind her. It bounced badly on the road, but she'd forseen this and packed everything well. Glass stuffed and padded. Statues secured. Fabrics used as extra padding all around. She was confident that nothing would break. The port was in sight and a quick glance at her watch told her that she had forty-five minutes. Perfect. A dark-haired boy caught her eye though. He looked angry, but cute nontheless. She slowed to admire him and when he spoke--a shout about the stupidity of paying for ice--she realized that he was american. The shopkeep was responding nervously in French, backing away from the angry man. His friend, equally nervous, attempted to translate, but he had a book in his hand and was flipping frantically. The Sicilian was sure that the book did not contain the proper fluency required to get the dark american's point across. Victoria smiled and crossed the street. As she neared, she took in the extra details. The shopkeep's name was Mercer and he wanted small change for his ice. It was a stupid argument. Smiling politely, she calmed the american and offered her own bottle. He accepted and she led them towards the outer patios. She wondered if they'd like to share a drink and had they too come on the ship? Their cabins must not be near one another or she would have noticed them, surely. She was nearer to the prow, but she couldn't remember her cabin number. She furrowed her brow for a moment, then gave up. "I can't remember... what's yours? We can meet up later!" Lighting up, the boy told her that he was actually near her area, in room A-20. They'd be in their room after setting sail. Eventually she left the two and continued towards the ship. She walked slowly; timing her arrival. Five minutes. Perfect. Good thing she wasn't the weakest of girls, else she'd never have made it up the unexpectedly long ramp with her suitcase. It was supposed to be an act but by the time she made it to the crew, checking the last of the tickets and about to close the gate, Victoria was legitimately exhausted, though still dutifully jostling her purse one handed, as though hoping to unearth something important. She gasped and breathed as fast as she could about how she couldn't find her ticket. She must have left it on her dresser before she left the ship. Her room, though, A-20 was so far away and her suitcase so heavy. Needed souveniers for the family. "Could you carry it for me? Can you accept tips?" She spoke in english, like the american. The other passengers had already hurried along, anxious to avoid her eye. They knew they couldn't help her. She flipped out a few bills, as though counting change and handed it to the nearest of the two with a smile. The crewmen looked at one another and told her to keep it and please take her time. She looked faint. She did need to get her ticket, though. If she were stopped on board... "Thank you... So much. Au revoir." She walked onto the ship in slow motion, ready to collapse somewhere. She hadn't come unprepared though. No, there was a two piece in her case and a beach chair somewhere on deck for her to nap on. Sleep through the transformation from native to foreigner. |
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| Betsy Braddock | Jul 8 2013, 08:15 PM Post #2 |
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Telepathy (I'm not a bloody ninja)
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Hey Jack, thanks for applying to XMR. Honestly, this app is going to need some work to really fit into a world like ours so please bear with me and understand that I’m not trying to insult your hard work with my crit. If you need help, please contact myself or another member of staff and we’ll talk it out. 1. First off, Sicily is an island; you need to pick a town/city from Sicily for her real hometown. 2. Okay, while we don’t really have a problem with someone being human on the site, they still have to abide by certain standards of reasonability. Right now she has a lot going on and it makes her a bit of a Mary Sue. She’s a skilled crime boss and smuggler by the age of 24, who speaks a lot of languages (one of them being a technically historical language) and is highly skilled with a sword and happens to carry one around. We appreciate that she needs to stand up and be counted amongst mutants, but right now she has more skills and contacts than the average character who has one power. You’ll need to tone back or drop some of these things. For instance: she is JUST trying to start out in the world of crime, she can speak a max of two languages fluently and has a smattering of ‘hey how you doing?’ in one or two more and she’s a casual fencer...because really, the techno sword sounds incredibly gimmicky, as how would she get away with committing all these crimes AND carrying a hugely offensive weapon? Also, no to adamantium in any shape or form. It’s just a bit too much, all combined. Then in the weaknesses, you state how young she is. But she’s been smuggling on a huge, high end scale for four years. You also, unintentionally I’m sure, dilute her actual weaknesses by starting off by saying ‘well she’s good at this but actually not that good’. So far, she’s too cool for school and it defeats the point of her being a human. 3. Personality. Mostly this isn’t terrible, but you really need to bear in mind this is not a Mafia site. Sure, she might have dined with hitmen and the likes, so how does she feel about dangerous mutants? What about people like Sabretooth or Exodus who could rip her into shreds without breaking a sweat? Also, she won’t have what she wants all the time, because that is not how RPs work. There are workable aspects here, but overall you need to round her out more so she’s not trying to be High Society Hit-Girl. I’m not trying to slam you, but you need to consider the fact that no one is going to know who she is, nor will anyone care a great deal unless you start small and earn your stripes, much like all of us have over the years. 4. History - How did she have an iPhone? The first gen iPhone was released in 2007.
I’m not entirely sure why she shouts Backpack. Seeing as Dora the Explorer wasn’t broadcast then. In any case, this would be a severely traumatic event, but then you breeze on to her going to parties. It just feels like an event without real consequence. How old was she when she was dating and selling drugs randomly? Where did she get drugs? Who did she sell to? Her father staged an arrest? I mean, she kind of deserves it but these sections are really choppy so it seems to suddenly dart into it. Anyway, what sort of father would want their daughter carrying on that way? She does deserve a smack, quite frankly.
Why did she go all the way to Paris and manage to get across borders in a stolen car? Paris is not a port city. Also, on XMR Miami is controlled by Wilson Fisk, aka the Kingpin. He’d eat her for lunch with some grated parmesan. Cute young girl or not, she’d not be able to just stroll on board with suitcases of clothes and art, but only two hundred euro in cash. That would be far too suspicious. and would get her noticed.
I don’t have a problem with this section so much as it’s written strangely when you start breaking the fourth wall. Just try and avoid doing this too much because it distorts the flow of the app and is a little distracting, especially as you keep going with this. Playing ignorant would only get her so far as well. Why would people be doing business with her if she came across as an airhead little girl? If she was avoiding taking her own drugs as well, then her buyers would think there was something wrong with the drugs, not her. Why did she eventually move to NYC? It seems to random amongst her ruling of the criminal underworld. All in all this app feels more like a character that’s been pulled from another fandom or rp site; she doesn’t have much synergy with the world of mutants and heroes. Apoc - War converts were not zombies. You don’t seem to understand the situation either; War’s attack was relatively brief, then came the hurricane in NYC. How did she have a helicopter just on hand and where did she go even?
Who is he? Where is home? Please take more care. You have so many throwaway lines in the history that it’s getting hard to keep up. Purifiers - So what about when the sentinels attacked NYC? Did she have any opinions on Mayor Risman’s speeches? The dome over Mutant Town? What about Havok being arrested and put on trial as War? Skrulls - How was she aware of them, just because she had contacts switch? The Skrull were perfect copycats and would not have done anything to arouse her suspicions until it would have been too late for her to do something anyway. Even if she was so skilled that she was able to work out something was up and find out about the Skrulls, why didn’t she do anything about it, like try to contact someone? Right now it seems like not much of a big deal. Your current history is lacking the current plot, like #killyourheroes and Namor proclaiming war on the surface, with his attack on the waters of NYC on New Years. Please try and get as caught up as you can; we’ll help you do that too so don’t worry too much. This is a HUGE feedback, I know, and I am very sorry about it. There are good ideas in this app and you are making a very brave character choice, but to pull it off and be successful in play, you need to really shape things up and make them make sense. We’ll help you, don’t worry. You can take things out or replace them, but overall simplify things, especially her being the Queen of Crime, because as it stands, HFC will probably kill her and SHIELD will probably arrest her. Please respond to this app when you’ve done working on it. Thanks :) |
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| Victoria Fiore | Jul 9 2013, 04:01 AM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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No offense meant. None taken. With hands in air, I back away from Miami. Just to be safe, I back away from South Florida entirely. Is Central Florida/Orlando far enough? I'm sure a ticket from Fort Lauderdale to California isn't so expensive. How far is the Kingpins reach? I lost track of her timeline; thought she was in Italy for the Apocalypse and figured she'd have to deal with Death's minions. Zombies have been removed. The closest horseman to her in Orlando was War and he didn't make it past DC, did he? I'm really not sure what you want me to tell you as far as where she got drugs and who she sold to. She bought from people who sold it and sold to people who'd buy it. D'you want me to make up names? Other than that, I think I've made all requested changes. |
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| Betsy Braddock | Jul 9 2013, 02:02 PM Post #4 |
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Telepathy (I'm not a bloody ninja)
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Thanks for making the changes so far, but you’ve either missed a few things/misunderstood my point so again, if you need help please get in touch and I can explain things more thoroughly over AIM or PM. Firstly to answer you, the Kingpin has a rather large reach but if you tone her down a little more and have her concentrate more on one specific area, she won’t be so much of a problem that he’d have her taken out. Your timeline is pretty messy; you had her in NYC before Apoc hit and unless I missed it, she hadn’t moved home at any point so it was incredibly unclear where she was. Anyway, Death only attacked Paris and London. No converts got as far as Italy. When I asked you to clarify who she sold to, I kind of meant a general demographic, not names and ages. I meant, did she sell to her friends, or dodgy junkies on the street? Young kids at school gates or older people in clubs? Make sense? You can’t treat the subject of dealing drugs so flippantly because it makes it look like you’re doing it to be an edgy rebel and not explore a very real and dangerous world that people can get sucked into. Back to the rest of the app: 1. Powers - It’s fair enough if she doesn’t like guns, but how is being skilled at fencing realistically going to help her? I appreciate we told you the techno sword made no real sense, but this is one of the things I mean when I say you’re going to struggle. If she was in a fight against someone like Pyro or Spiral, at least some sort of ranged weapon would help her. Just think about it. Also, a lot of Sicilians don’t actually speak Sicilian anymore, just so you know. It’s classed as a historical language. 2. Personality - A little better, but remember what I said: you can say she gets what she wants, but she won’t always because again, that’s not how RPs work. There’s lots buzzing around in here about how she had a sheltered life, but has dined with thieves. But again, what about the violence of mutants? You cover that in your new paragraph but you’ve not touched the previous ones so be careful when editing so it goes smoothly. 3. History - So she can just call up and tell border patrol what to do? Really? No. Again. She can’t have just skipped aboard a transatlantic cruise ship with cases full of valuable goods and minimal cash, a pretty smile, and everyone just let that happen. That’s not how it works, no matter if she’s as cute as a bug's butt or not. Why Rouen? Do many cruises depart from there to America? I am sorry if it seems petty that I’m riding you for this, but if she’s going to come from a different background and wind up in America by such a public method, it needs to actually make sense. Right now it makes none. Her criminal dealings...She seems all over the place. You’re really going to have to have her concentrate on ONE area. She can be a drug dealer, or she can deal in stolen art or she can deal in the animal trade (and potentially piss of Kraven), but not everything. If she’s worked her way up in just one area, maybe starting into a second recently (which could explain her moving later on) then yeah, she can be this master of her craft. You make reference to the fact she isn’t a pro at times, but I’m not seeing any proof of that. Also avoid playing her up as all cutesy, as it’s like the drug stuff earlier; it just makes it sound so flippant and not serious at all. If she’s going to be a big shot, she needs to be more credible. You have her moving to New York City pre-Apocalypse. Watch your timeline as it does roll around and makes it confusing. Apocalypse - Even if she was in Orlando, she’d have heard about the Horsemen on the news. She’d have been caught up in a natural disaster (they were worldwide and the East Coast took a huge pounding from a hurricane) and finally there was an EMP caused blackout that hit the world again. The world took a huge pounding. Purifiers - No she would not have supplied them with weapons. Purifiers got their weapons from Genosha or developed them themselves. Her wanting to hide mutants is a bit at odds with how you have her view them in her personality. Overall this section isn’t too bad. But, along with the rest of the app, you really need to proofread and check that everything flows. There are other bits and pieces that could do with firming up, but most of those you’ll have to learn about in game. I’m sorry this is long again, but this sort of character needs handling with the utmost care and respect, especially when it comes to drugs etc, and we never treat such characters casually. |
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| Captain America | Jul 17 2013, 03:06 PM Post #5 |
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You think this letter on my head stands for France?
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This Application has been quiet for a week. Are edits still being worked on? Please make them or contact a member of staff by Wednesday, July 24th or this Application risks being denied due to inactivity. |
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| Betsy Braddock | Jul 30 2013, 09:19 AM Post #6 |
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Telepathy (I'm not a bloody ninja)
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Moved to denied through inactivity. If you want to come back and try again, please get in touch with an admin. |
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8:21 AM Jul 11