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| DUKES, Fred; The Immovable Blob | |
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| Topic Started: Dec 6 2013, 04:30 AM (622 Views) | |
| Fancyman | Dec 6 2013, 04:30 AM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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[align=center]PLAYER INFORMATION[/align] NAME:Fancy man CONTACT: PM aught to work HOW YOU FOUND US:One of those rpg-sites OTHER CHARACTERS ON THE SITE: Nah RULES CODE:Blackbird! CREDIT WHERE IT'S DUE: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blob_(comics) http://marvel.com/universe/Blob http://www.comicvine.com/blob/4005-3182/ [align=center]CHARACTER INFORMATION[/align] [align=center] [/align]Eric Esch BASIC INFORMATION CANON OR ORIGINAL:Canon AFFILIATION:Brotherhood FULL NAME:Frederick J. Dukes CODENAME:The Blob NICKNAMES:Fred, "The Human Ton" CURRENT AGE:27 DATE OF BIRTH:/11/12 MARITAL STATUS:Single SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Hetero BASE OF OPERATIONS: Sanctuary, but he still has a trailer out in a little off the grid community TIME AT INSTITUTE: [if applicable] REGISTERED WITH SHIELD? Nope HOMETOWN: Lubbock Texas KNOWN RELATIVES: Daisy and Doyle Dukes, both deceased PHYSICAL APPEARANCE HEIGHT: stonking' 8 feet tall BUILD: Blob is stupendously obese and his limbs are several times thicker than those of normal humans, packed with both blubber and muscle. his head is ridiculously tiny when put in proportion to the rest of his body, and looks even more diminutive due to the fact that his neck is so covered in blubber its barely noticable. Even though his hands and feet look rather tiny in comparison to the general massiveness of his limbs, his clenched fist is roughly the size of a grown man's head and his feet having the breadth and width as the standard food-tray. EYES:Blue HAIR:Reddish brown, although he usually keeps it shaved. DISTINGUISHING MARKS: A four-digit body-weight CLOTHING STYLE:Dresses like a redneck, meaning he has a soft spot for denim, sleeveless shirts and Trucker-caps. If its a fancy occasion he might put on a cowboy-hat. His favorite piece of clothing is an over-sized, well-worn denim vest, which has been with him for quite a while. UNIFORM:Has a sort of 'uniform' cobbled together from pseudo-military garments he's sewn himself, topped off with a bank-robber-style mask POWERS GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Fred has quite the number of powers in his bag of tricks, and first and foremost amongst them is his ability to absorb damage. However, this invulnerability goes beyond that of normal "bricks", Of course he has the extra-durable bones and muscles that usually come with the whole bruiser-package, but his first and most potent line of defense is his blubber. That's right, Fred's not just weighed down by an over-abundance of lard, its actually mutant lard, capable of withstanding everything from Ballistic bullets, bothersome bee-stings and brutal battering-rams to Massive meteorites, malignant missiles and murderous midgets without taking any damage whatsoever. His skin is pretty much impenetrable and extremely elastic, giving him the ability to 'bounce off' the various projectiles hurled at our huge, hulking hero. He also has the capability of 'catching' larger things that strike him in his folds of blubber, and ejecting them by flexing his muscles. All in all, this puts Freddy-boy in the top tier of toughness. Also, due to the rapid rate his skin-cells grow and replace themselves, and general resilience of his skin he is also nigh-immune to to frostbite, flames, rashes, and stretch-marks. It is not yet known if there is an upper limit to the Blob's ability to absorb impact. While he could easily survive a head-on collision with a bus traveling at a hundred miles per hour, even a highly ferrous meteorite fifty feet in diameter on top of him at terminal velocity, its uncertain wether he'd survive a collission at an object travelling at near light speed. It is also uncertain whether his skin's resistance to heat would be able to withstand the 11,000,000-degree heat at ground zero of a multi-megaton atomic blast. Our hero also has the ability to become immovable by the use of a gravitational field. This field usually extends up to five feet bellow him, 'binding' him to the ground, as long as he is in contact with it. With concentration he is capable of extending the field far further than its usual range. Normally, this field cease to function if Fred's contact with the ground ceases for any reason. However with enough concentration he is capable of activating the field, even when out of contact with the ground, causing his personal gravity to increase, making him fall faster, harder and make a big 'splash' when he lands. Very useful for 'cannonballing' when by the pool as well as to make little craters He is also super-strong, capable of lifting around 75 tons, although, this is quite powerful in its own right, he himself considers it the least in his trio of great powers that came without even a little bit of responsibility. In fact, Fred hasn't had much practice with his super-strength as with his other powers, since it didn't really appear until after he was in his twenties, and when it did, it was pretty wimpy as far as super-strength goes, but over the years it has grown from kicking down doors and bending frying-pans to hurling trucks and walking through brick-walls And finally, whilst it may not really count as a 'power' per se, blob is far larger than any human ought to be without feeling any ill effects from it. In fact, unlike most people, Fred has not actually stopped growing even though he is well into his twenties, although it has slowed down considerably over the last half-decade. at least height-wise. However, despite his size and obscene amounts of blubber, he is fairly light on his feet, moving with a speed and grace that should be beyond a man of his ridiculously generous proportions WEAKNESS: Fred's main weakness is his unusual size. Its dang-near impossible for him to find clothes, and most doors tend to be an obstacle for him. Also, he is easily recognizable. The blubbery 'natural armor' is not as thick around his face, and although his skin and 'natural' durability still protects it, sufficient force could give him a concussion or even knock him out He may be tougher than a tank made from coffin nails, but he doesn't have any advantages whatsoever when it comes to defending himself against telepaths and their ilk PERSONALITY Fred Dukes has had a tough life, and he likes to tell people how it has made him an even tougher man, and even though this might be true, it is only part of the truth. His harsh life has also landed him with self-esteem and confidence-issues relating to his appearance and social skills. with a sigh and a heavy heart he has resigned himself to the fact that the closest thing to a romantic partner will be filled by righty, lefty and the occasional lady of negotiable affection. Just like many a bitter and lonely man he who has failed to attract the attention of the fairer sex he is a misogynist, although, this doesn't stop him from making lewd and often rather disgusting remarks to any and all women that catches his fancy and occasionally even those who fail to catch it. However, due to a mixture between poor social skills and confidence in his toughness and strength, Fred usually comes across as conceited, crass and crude, usually stomping around throwing his weight around like like a hick in a rowdy bar. But for all his bravado, he is well-aware that he is far from the biggest fish in the pond, and capable of getting his act together when the goings start to get tough. Even though Fred is a rather jaded and cynical individual, he is definitely not the brooding sort. Quite the opposite actually. Fred loves to dazzle (Bully) others with his 'wit' and 'humorous' observations from time to time, and has a great love of fun, drinking, partying and generally goofing around, just for kicks. He has a certain lack of inhibition which gives him a tendency to stomp straight into whatever is going on at the moment without a second though. He seems to lack any filters for what is okay conversation which makes him come across as crass, boorish and generally obnoxious at times Due to being born a redneck, many of Fred's favorite pastimes are quite redneck-like. First and foremost, he loves cars, especially big ones. he loves to drive fast and recklessly, as well as watching Nascar, like any good hick, but his number one car-related activity is to tinker with old cars, repairing them, fixing them up, or breaking them down for scraps. another of his hobbies is hunting, which he has been doing on-and-off-again since he was old enough to spell his own name. One of his talents that usually comes as a surprise, given his appearance is his musical ability. Whilst not being a lyrical wonder-child or anything, he plays a mean guitar when the mood strikes him. Although, one of the most disturbing facts about Fred is that he is able to turn any area he spends enough time in into a beer-can-covered, food-stained mess in less than a three hours. This is because of his general lack of discomfort with unhygienic living-areas combined with a certain apathetic slothfulness. Fred loves to lie on the couch emptying beer-cans and scoffing down burgers, looking/shouting at whoever/whatever is on TV/in his room at the moment, which brings us into another facet of our heroes wondrous personality. He always eats. rare are the times when not at least one of Fred's hands is holding some sort of foodstuff or beverage. It is uncertain whether this is some sort of side-effect of his powers, or simply normal overeating, but he likes to claim the former rather than the latter HISTORY: PRE-APOCALYPSE Fredericks J. Dukes was born to Doyle and Daisy Dukes, a pair of fairly average people living on a Texas farm near the city of Lubbock. When he entered the world for the time, our hero was pretty much indistinguishable from most newly born types, a bloody, bawling baby, howling in terror of the new world he had just entered. The first five years of Frederick's life was rather uneventful, and even though he grew far faster than most boys, this was considered as not being very unusual, as both of his parents were on the taller side of average. However, a few weeks before the young man's fifth birthday, his mother was caught in a tragic, tractor-related accident and passed away a few days later. Strangely, this event did not have much as much of an effect on Fred as most people would have expected, and while he was inconsolable for a few days after her death, he quickly packed it in and moved on with his life, partly because he was too young to remember much of her and partly because she hadn't spent as much time with young Fred as you'd expect. Unlike his son, Doyle never really recovered from Daisy's death and while he initially seemed to take it rather well, he slowly descended into depression and alcoholism over the years. Though he initially took great care to shield Fred from his downwards spiral, he eventually couldn't keep up the appearance of functionality any longer. However, the father and son enjoyed a good relationship for a few years before that time, and young Fred eagerly joined his father in his various activities, although, the two of them still enjoyed the hunting-trips the most. However, at school Fred's life took a turn for the worse. due to growing up on a farm without other kids around his age, he initially didn't relate all that well to the other children, and soon a dark side emerged and Fred began to end up in fights and bully some of his classmates. Occasionally the teachers would discuss his behavior with his father. The elder Dukes wasted no time in showing where the younger one had gotten his temper from, loudly dismissing the allegations and questioning the sexuality of the teachers in question. This instilled Fred with a firm belief that rules didn't really apply to him as well as the opinion that while a debate or discussion can be won with words, the easiest and most straight-forward way to win it would be with a punch to the teeth or a knee to the groin. In his early teens this mindset made our hero and his cronies take up petty vandalism in order to impress older kids and each other. Even though Fred reveled in the mindless destruction, he quickly realized that it was not exactly a risk-free enterprise. The first time he was picked up by the police he was terrified, but the fear he felt then was nothing compared to when he got home. His father, who had until now defended his antics, suddenly changed his stance on the issue, and that was when the beatings began. In an instant the strong bond between Father and son was replaced by an unhealthy sort of love-hate relationship, and even though Fred feared the punishment he received he did not cease the vandalism, as the kick of it was probably the best thing he had going in his life. However, as he turned fourteen he realized that the kick wasn't from the vandalism itself, but rather from the excitement and the camaraderie around it, but as one of older friends ended up in Juvenile hall, he decided to find another venue to get his kicks. He quickly found a substitute in the form of boxing. even at fifteen Fred was an extremely big kid, standing six and a half feet tall and weighing a fair bit over threehundred pounds, but even though this was unusual, it wasn't unexpected, due to the size of his father, however, it did not take Fred long in the ring to realize his size and strength was not even close to being the most unusual thing about him. Whilst Fred's teachers had few flattering things to say about his intellect, he quickly realized that he was fundamentally different from the other boxers. Even the most devastating punches from the strongest fighters didn't even inconvenience him, and thus quite a few people wanted him to go pro when he was old enough. Even though Fred thought he had found his calling in life, it was simply not to be. His trainer noticed that Fred's resilience went beyond merely being tough as nails and no matter how many hits he took, the blubbery behemoth did not bruise nor bleed. To avoid causing an outrage, he made a deal with the youngster to keep away from the gym and boxing in general, and he wouldn't 'out' his mutancy. This was the first time that Fred had even thought about himself being a mutant, but he quickly realized that this might be right on the money. In the privacy of his home he started experimenting with his own durability, starting out with pins and needles, by way of knives and fire to finally trying to jab a pitchfork into his foot with as much strength he could muster. And still, he felt no pain. After the Boxing-fiasco Fred just drifted into a life of petty crime, preffering to stay with friends rather than with his own father with whom he had broken off all contact. He occasionally had to sleep outdoors before he made the decision of teaming up with a gang of his old buddies to support themselves by starting a rudimentary car-theft ring. They would steal cars, strip them down and sell the parts to less than honest mechanics and used car-dealers. this went pretty smooth for about a year or so, and he and his partners managed to do pretty well for themselves. For the first time in his life, Fred had enough money to afford to be wasteful. even though he was reluctant to spend money at first, he quickly got a taste for it, and wasted most of it on food, women as well as renting a moderately fancy apartment. In short, he was living the low-life's version of the high-life! However,all good things must come to an end, and one of his friends was picked up by the police and interrogated about one of the car-thefts. This ordeal caused most of the gang to go underground or skip town altogether. Fred himself teamed up with two of his former companions, one of which had an uncle in the carnival-business who had agreed to let 'em join up to work hard for money quite a few pay-grades below minimum wage. However, joining a carnival sure beat a prison-sentence, and thus Freddie and his two cronies joined the carnie-life. Working at the carnival was tough and degrading. The hours were long, and the living-condition less than satisfactory, but nevertheless, Fred got a taste for it. Traveling from place to place, finally seeing the world outside of Lubbock. Due to his strength and size, he ended up assembling and maintaining rides rather than the infinitely more degrading 'cleaning up puke'-details that his friends were stuck with. and due to his size (at the tender age of 16 Fred was standing around seven feet tall and weighing in at over 550 pounds) he managed to get himself a performing-job, which came with a slightly improved wage. It was during this time that Fred finally realized that in addition to his invulnerability, he was also blessed with immovability. He found it out when he was experimenting with his act, before settling on a 'cannonball to the gut' routine. A very respectable gimmick that soon him one of the star-performers of the carnival. half a year later, he and his two friends heard the good news, that the police had decided to drop the case against them, and whilst the other two wasted no time in returning to their old lives, Fred opted to stay with the carnival. After all, he didn't really have anything waiting for him back in Lubbock, except for a broken home, a harsh life full of crime, uncertainty and an eventual prison-sentence. Here he had gotten the respect and sense of belonging he had craved during his early years, as well as the stability and security he had missed in his later years. The years of the carnival became a pleasant routine, and as the people he had once considered nothing but co-workers became friends and comrades, as the traveling went from a chore, to his lifestyle of choice Fred Dukes felt truly happy, for the first time in many years. Although after a while he began to worry about his new-found happiness as he kept growing and growing, and after reaching the impressive height of seven and a half feet, he decided to come clean to the ringmaster about his mutancy. after all, it wasn't as if he could keep it a secret for much longer. Surprisingly, the ring-master just shrugged and explained that the carnival had adopted an 'don't ask, don't tell'-policy when it came to mutants. DURING APOCALYPSE (April 7th through April 12th, 2009) Once again, the good times were simply too good to last. Fred and his crazy cavalcade of career-carnies was currently setting up camp outside of the city of New York as a strange cadre of sinister, superpowered figures appeared as if out of nowhere and started a violent assault on the city. Death and destruction was everywhere as the peculiar, superpowered hooligans attacked, and since the emergence of his powers, this was the first time Fred was afraid of actually getting hurt. Even in the first three minutes of the onslaught the caravan lost half of its members and would likely have lost even more if not for our stalwart hero, who not only found his courage, but fought to protect his fellow man Fred, did his best to keep the invaders busy along with some of the braver carnies, as the others retreated to a nearby warehouse and barricaded themselves. Blob and his brave brothers in battle did their best to cover the retreat of their cowardly comrades as well as to funnel as many locals to safety as they could, but soon, even as their number dwindled even they decided to cut their losses and retreat, focusing on defending the people they had gathered instead of finding more POST-APOCALYPSE The war stopped almost as suddenly as it had started. our hero felt relieved and somewhat surprised to still be alive. He quickly realized that the Carnival-life he had so enjoyed in the past was over. The ring-leader, the animals and roughly half of the carnies had died in the attack, and all of the trailers and the disassembled rides had been destroyed. Nor did the people he had saved show much gratitude for the boastful but brave blubbery behemoth. In fact, the opposite was true. Fortunately, Fred managed to notice the hostility towards mutants before the police-department or federal government had time to regroup, and he did what he always did in rough situation; He took off. He quickly stole a car and drove south, managing to pick up an abandoned trailer on the way, eventually settling down into a small, off-the-grid community in the Nevada desert, where he once again took up the only way of life he had known apart from carnival-life: Crime. Fred barely scraped by, mainly buying stolen cars and stripping them down for parts as well as hunting the local wildlife illegally and gathering up roadkill for sustenance. It was at this time he took up playing the banjo to pass the copious amount of free-time he had. All in all, he would be lying if he said he enjoyed his new-found way of life, but the brush with mutant hate-mongering made him nervous to re-enter mainstream life. After all, unlike many mutants, he couldn't hide in plain sight since his appearance made him rather conspicuous. he had reached 8 feet by now, and his weight had ballooned to over a thousand pounds. PURIFIERS Even so, his self-imposed exile would not last for long either, as the anti-mutant sentiment he was aware of grew into something that was close to a nation-wide riot. Fortunately for Fred, his decision to stay out of the way kept him away from the proverbial fire, but he still felt the effects of the smoke, as some of the members of his little community turned against him trying to force him out, some even going so far as to try to threaten him with guns. However, at this time, Fred decided that he had had enough of that sort of thing, and decided to teach those that stood against him a lesson. The following scuffle was extremely one-sided, and resulted in Fred mopping the floor with the mob before they decide to hightail it out of there. However, despite the fact that the battle was won, Fred decided it was time to mosey on before there were consequences to his actions. But where else could he go? After a few hours of thinking, he finally reached a conclusion, even though he wasn't exactly enthusiastic about it. The best chance he'd have to live a somewhat decent life would probably be the so-called mutant-town in new york. He cringed at this prospect partly because there would other mutants there, and even though his mutancy was fairly obvious, he still hadn't really come to terms with the fact that he was a mutant himself. It was embarrassing. In mutant-town he quickly landed himself a job as a bouncer at a local dive, no doubt due to the fact that he could literally 'bounce' pretty much anything that came his way. he rented a rather depressive one-room apartment, and spent an unhealthy amount of time dwelling on the unfairness of life, the universe and his fellow man. The only thing that he liked about mutant-town was the sense of anonymity it gave him. Freaky as though he may be, he wasn't freaky enough to stick out of the crowd all that much. However, it did not take him long to fall in with a sort of bad crowd, and even though he didn't really hate humanity on principle, it did not take much persuasion to join up in their little anti-human, pro-mutant group called "Mutant Liberation Front". It was at this time that our hero would adopt the moniker of 'Blob' as an alias to avoid detection. However, despite the grand rhetoric of their leader, the activity of the group was limited to a bunch of fairly lame protests and one half-hearted riot, but due to the mutantness of the people involved, the local law-enforcement decided to strike down at them rather hard, arresting quite a few of the more noticeable members. Due to the rather freakish appearance and strange powers of some of his compatriots, the normally easily-remembered giant Blob managed to metaphorically 'slip through the cracks' initially, and thus he was present when a strange man offered the remnants of the 'mutant liberation front' sanctuary in a city called just that: Sanctuary. Eager to escape incarceration most of the group accepted, and thus, they were relocated to the lovely city of Sanctuary SKRULLS By the time the whole Skrull business had started, Blob as he now called himself had made a fairly decent life for him in sanctuary. for the first time since the carnival-years he was able to use his abilities for profit once more, and his particular brand of mutantness proved to be very useful in the construction-business. And so, Blob felt quite a bit happier with his life than he had done in years, but once again metaphorical stormclouds where growing over his head. He was completely ignorant of the whole invasion-thing until the people started disappearing. All in all,it did not have much of an effect on him directly, even though he worried about there being aliens around and whatnot. Heck apart from observing his new-found Friends as they applauded the Brotherhoods efforts during the ordeal. CURRENT HISTORY The recent attack on the Sanctuary affected Blob more than he'd like to admit. He had been living under that impression that the Sanctuary was impregnable and pretty much immune to the goings on up on the surface, but even down here you are not completely safe from whatever weird, nasty things that happened to the world. But despite this rather unpleasant realization he also could not help to notice that the Brotherhood once again rushed to the rescue. He couldn't help but to feel slightly jealous of the applause, approval, admiration and accolades that the Brotherhood received for doing their job. A job that seemed to be plenty more exciting than construction-work, especially since it would allow him to let some of his more destructive impulses loose. And thus, the big brute decided to try to join up to see if he had what it takes to be at the forefront at mutanity's fight for freedom. SAMPLE RP POST: With a beer-can in one hand, a piece of fried chicken in the other, and a bucket containing even more fried chicken neatly balanced on his prodigious stomach, Fred 'The Blob' Dukes Leaned back into the comfortable couch, putting his feet up on the fancy, newly bought table, whilst keeping his eyes glued to the TV-screen which was showing a re-run of his favorite show; "The Worlds Loudest Explosions" The springs inside the couch groaned noisily as it was hit with the full force of his four-digit body-weight. Despite barely spending a half an hour of his lunch-break in the rec-room the area around him was littered with burger-wrappers and the occasional french fry that had escaped his greedy clutches, and on which he currently rested his feet was filled with empty beer-cans. As one of his co-workers made a negative comment about his attitude towards communal spaces, Blob burped loudly in response, skillfully dismissing any arguments about his current behavior. After all, his boss had been daft enough to tell him to 'make yourself at home'. Sure this sort of thing would probably keep him from being employee of the months, but he that was a pointless goal for wimps who licked the soggy bottom of authority. He wasn't like that, he was a rebel! At that time, one of his co-workers had the audacity to nab the remote that he had placed on his belly along with the fried chicken and change the channel, thus robbing his eyes of the explosions they so loved to watch. Such a vicious attack on his personage could not go unpunished, so he decided to go for a swift and merciless vengeance. He already had a plan, and it was as simple as it was cunning, and now was the time to put it into action. Thus he lazily hurled an empty beer-can in her general direction "Change back to my show, ya worthless waste of proteins, or I'll throw a full one next time!" Blob said, the fried chicken in his mouth somewhat muffling the comment, but despite this most people was pretty clear on the meaning. "Bite my shiny metal ass!" The woman (who's mutation had given her metal skin) retorted, causing Fred to grunt loudly and get to his feet, towering above the rest of his co-workers who looked between the two posturing powerhouses with awe and fear. "I swear, lady, you's angried up mah fists to much that I dun' know whether to knock ya on the kisser or kiss ya on the knocker!" The big galoot announced loudly as advanced on the metallic woman in a threatening manner. However, before the seemingly inevitable conflict began, The Blob's ferocious frown turned into a gregarious grin. "How'd ya feel 'bout dinner tonight, sweetums?" he asked. "Wipe the chicken-grease off your face, and you got yourself a date!" the woman replied alluringly, but Blob merely scoffed as he once more dove butt-first into the couch "Don't try to change me, baby" |
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| Betsy Braddock | Dec 6 2013, 03:12 PM Post #2 |
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Telepathy (I'm not a bloody ninja)
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This is a pretty good app. You do need to watch your spelling/grammar/etc but as you're not a native English speaker, we're not going to come down too hard on you as long as you make a concentrated effort. In terms of history you've done a pretty good job. The Apocalypse section is a little confused but I am guessing you mean converts attacked. This is fine, but converts usually stayed in the area where they were made. In that case, I'd suggest simply changing the location of this happening. Overall, your grasp seems fairly solid and while there are a couple of things missing I am at this time going to put that down to where he was in terms of location and note that if you app another character in the future, I'll hope to see a more accurate coverage of plots, ie the Illuminati. Fix up Apocalypse and give this a good proof read and I'll be happy. |
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| Blob | Dec 8 2013, 02:19 AM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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Had a go at fixing the issues you talked about. Hope it's good 'nuff. |
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| Molly Hayes | Dec 8 2013, 02:30 AM Post #4 |
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Superstrength/ Invulnerability/ Not Called Bruiser
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That reads a lot better, thanks for making that fix. I'm good on this now, you you do need two stamps. [S T A M P] |
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| Alix | Dec 8 2013, 05:03 AM Post #5 |
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Telepathy, Telekinesis / Empathy
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Approved! great job. if you need any help getting going in game, please let us know! |
[align=center]![]() STRIKE ME DOWN SHOULD HAVE HELD IT ALL ALONE WASH THE QUESTION OFF MY HANDS I'M THE FATE IN NO ONES PLAN[/align] | |
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7:32 PM Jul 11