IndividualCharacter's Full Name: Jacquelyn Dyer Currently Unknown
Alias/ Nickname/ Code Name: “Jack" or "Chief”, though presently she only remembers the latter alias.
Gender: Female, though not outwardly apparent.
Age: 29 14
Date of Birth: 08/27/1990 2005?
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of Origin: Mount Vernon, Washington
Nationality: American
Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: European medley
AppearanceCharlie's Lovely MugHair Color and Style: Bald, chitinous carapace
Skin Tone: Iridescent, predominantly teal and green.
Eye Color: Lavender and catlike, pupil occupies the entire eye.
Height: 7’6” 6’ fully upright. She tends to slouch about or walk on all fours, though.
Build: Gangly, emaciated proportions.
Visible Mutation: She’s a mantis shrimp monster, so there’s that.
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: She always looks a little ragged (chips and scratches on her chitin), from routine scuffles.
Other Features: The prawn slouches around or ambles on all fours. She has this wide-eyed nervousness about her. She doesn’t speak and fidgets considerably.
Everyday Clothing Style: She presently has one outfit at her disposal, mostly rags—a worn hoodie, pair of cargo shorts, and a t-shirt, all too big for her form.
Uniform: N/A.
Sleepwear: Her clothes from the day.
Miscellaneous Clothing: She wears a bandana over her mouth.
CharacterPersonality: The prawn is only a husk of who she grew into, operating on impulse. She acts like an animal that's been mistreated, startling at the slightest provocation, bolting at the first sign of danger or fighting any threat that arises. If someone's able to coerce her into trusting them, she can be incredibly affectionate—but such trust is only placed in fellow mutants.
Given her mouth structure she can't really talk beyond monosyllabic, vaguely-wordlike grunts and a myriad of inhuman vocalizations. She is very withdrawn and prone to moodiness.
Some people might regard her as untrustworthy because of how she acts—she’s always on-edge, scurrying from place to place, eyes flitting everywhere, with very little escaping their notice. Her life on the streets has made her cagey. One will know she’s truly comfortable with someone if she manages to sit still or even rest around them.
Hobbies/ Interests: Sports (spectating and participating, although she typically plays alone), nighttime walks, swimming, urban exploration, reading
Job and Description: N/A
Fears/ Phobias/ Concerns: Needles, doctors, inclimate weather, loud noises, being grabbed, having to fend for herself/be on the streets forever, being helpless/unable to fight, vigilantes
Special Talents: N/A
MoralityNeutral: She’s neither good nor bad—she’s just practical. Logical. Maybe a little cold. The only time her heart guides her decisions is when another mutant or a friend is involved. Charlie does what she has to in order to survive
MutationsMutation Description: Charlie could best be described as an anthropomorphic mantis shrimp. The coloration of her chitinous exoskeleton suggests that she fought a losing battle against a rainbow. Teal adorns most of her body, with rich emerald spots dappling her upper back, shoulders, back of her neck and crown her head. Her face is a pale blue, and transitions into a darker blue across her abdomen, pelvis, and legs. Splotches of green color her elbows and shoulders, but the rest of her arms are a mottled red-orange.
Coloration aside, she’s still quite the spectacle. Sharp chitinous spikes protrude from her carapace at the elbows and along of her lower arms, along her calves, shoulders, and along the ramus of her jaw. She walks on digitigrade feet with four, tentacle-like toes. Her disproportionately-long arms boast a trio of tentacle-like fingers, which are armored along the outside portions. She also possesses a secondary pair of arms beneath what would best be described as the ribs, which are miniscule compared to the primary pair (about the size of a small child’s arms).
Two pairs of antennae protrude from the crown of her head, and where a “mouth” would typically be, there sits a pair of mandibles (for chewing/shredding) and six maxillipeds (guide food back to the mandibles). The third pair of maxilipeds, the largest/outermost pair, cover and protect the remaining mouth parts. Her head is slightly bigger than the average humans, but proportionate to her body. Her jawline (despite the modified mouth structure) is still vaguely humanoid. (Author Note: I thoroughly based her design on the prawns from District 9, the main difference being the size of her hands and feet, and structure of the mouth.)
Strengths: - Her chitinous shell provides added durability in the areas that it covers. Charlie can withstand blunt force trauma with small items (i.e. a crowbar) and low caliber gunshots
- Minor regenerative capabilities, for her antennae and limbs
- Heightened senses of smell, sight, and hearing: Charlie can see clearly in low-light and no light situations, and has catlike hearing.
- Much like her Animalia counterpart, Charlie packs a nasty punch. For that matter, her strength and speed are at superhuman levels.
- Charlie has a myriad of human and inhuman vocalizations at her disposal, which entail (but aren’t limited too) laughter, sighs, growls, purrs, chirps, trills, and so-on. She also has a very expressive face, which aids in communicating with others. (The extent of her speech impediment is also discussed in the Weaknesses and Limitations section.)
Weaknesses and Limitations: The most obvious weakness is that Charlie looks the way she does 24/7. It makes her easily identifiable, and causes a whole host of issues related to her form. (It also makes her love life virtually nonexistent, as she is not remotely female or even human in appearance.)
- Her mouth parts are not designed for speech. At this point, she’s limited to noises and monosyllabic “words” (which are more like grunts, really).
- Her increased senses of sight, hearing, and smell mean that she is more susceptible to attacks that assault the senses. Sudden loud noises, bright flashes of light, or really astringent scents will send her reeling (and, likely, running).
- Charlie’s senses of taste and smell are facilitated through her antennae. Thus, she doesn’t “taste” things the way others might. She tastes things chemically. As such, she favors organic foods, as the overly-processed stuff just tastes nasty.
- As aforementioned, Charlie has minor regenerative capabilities. This only applies to antennae and limbs. It takes about one week to regrow an antennae. To regrow half of an arm, it’d take 3 months. To regrow a whole arm or half of a leg, 6 months. To regrow an entire leg, 1 year. Charlie is not impervious to the side effects of blood loss or infection, however. Her chitin repairs itself (so if she gets a scratch, dent, or puncture) at a rate comparable to how human skin heals.
- Although she is resistant to blunt force trauma and low caliber bullets, she is not impervious. Repeatedly striking the same area will wear it down. Likewise, if she is fired at with a higher caliber bullet (.45 as opposed to a .22), it will prove lethal.
- Charlie’s strength and speed sit at superhuman levels. She can run, in short bursts, at about 30 m.p.h. It takes a lot of energy for her to run that fast, however, and so at most she can maintain that speed for 10 seconds. It takes a while for her to slow down, given how massive she is. Strength-wise, she can lift about 300 lbs. with one of her primary arms, with ease. When Charlie punches, the combined effect of the force with which she punches, her weight, and the exoskeleton that covers the entirety of her hand, Charlie punches like a pro boxer with brass knuckles. Her secondary hands, just beneath the ribs, have about as lifting capabilities as a small, human child’s arms. Her primary hands are best suited for uses that require strength, whereas her secondary hands are better suited for exercises that require dexterity.
- Charlies’ soft spots are the palms of her hands, mouth (when opened), throat, eyes, the hollow of her elbows, the back of her knees, and under the arms. The bottoms of Charlie’s feet are slightly more sensitive than the armored portions of her body, but resilient enough that she can walk around barefoot. (She’ll craft makeshift foot-coverings if it is really hot or below freezing.) Her antennae, as well as her secondary arms, are also extremely sensitive. Charlie’s face, which is covered in chitinous scales, is more susceptible to damage simply because the chitin is not as thick.
- Every six months, she molts (much in the way cats or dogs shed to get their “winter coats” or “summer coats”). The process takes 3 days, it’s messy, and her shell is unusually soft for a day or two after that. Molting causes a spike in her hunger, irritability and other impulsive behaviors.
Power Growth, July 18th, 2017:Secondary Mutation Description: If Charlie throws a punch in a moment of distress (anger, fear), the mechanics of this motion will trigger a shockwave that radiates from her fist. Anything caught in that conical blast radius will be affected, the severity of the effect determined by how close the target is to her fully extended fist. Each blow emits a loud BANG.
A side-effect of this is, like many deep-sea creatures, Charlie bioluminesces (only apparent to the average human when it’s dark). The pores in her carapace exude a faint blue light. When Charlie is powering up to punch, her bioluminescent pores will brighten. This is not, however, a surefire indicator—she may brighten in other extreme emotions (beyond anger or fear, such as excitement, delight, arousal… etc.)
Strengths:- Increased durability in her arms—even the soft-tissue parts, under her arm and on the inside of her elbow—are more durable in order to support the concussive force off the punches.
- Punching into an enclosed space (i.e. a hallway) as opposed to an open space increases the pressure of the shockwave (think of a when you press your thumb over the opening of a hose, how the water goes from a dribble to a high-pressure spray… it’s the same concept).
- Get Behind Me! If Charlie doesn’t want to hit someone, standing behind her is an effective way to avoid getting caught in the blast. If you jump aside, you can also avoid getting hit by the blast.
- Everything’s Spinning: Each punch emits a resounding CRACK!, akin to a loud firecracker. It’s enough to send opponents (and, unfortunately, teammates) reeling from the shock—can lead to dizziness, ringing ears, and an inability to focus one’s vision. Effects tend to diminish within a minute.
Weaknesses and Limitations:- General Lack of Control: Charlie cannot pick-and-choose what will be affected by the blast, beyond aiming which direction she throws her punch. Friends, innocent bystanders, whatever. If you’re in the way, you’ll get hit, end of story.
- The effect of the strike is variable based on your proximity to Charlie’s fist, and is as follows (for the average human)—at less than 4ft. Charlie can deal heavy structural damage to buildings/metallic objects, cause structural collapse in wood-frame residential buildings, and deal significant injuries, with 10-25% chance of fatalities (~102 mph winds). At less than 8ft. Charlie may cause minor (but repairable) structural damage, might topple a concrete block wall, or cause minor injuries (~70mph winds). At 12 ft., there may be superficial damage to buildings, buckled sheet metal, minor injuries are possible (~38 mph winds). And finally, at 16ft., the force of the blow will shatter window glass, and debris may cause superficial injury.
- Deadliness: While the blow itself can cause bruising, ruptures, and broken bones in a human, it is not deadly independently. It all depends on how your character lands, and what they land on.
- Those affected by her shockwave punch must be within the blast zone. The blast radiates out at a 35* angle. At 4 ft., the arc length spans 2½ feet, while at 16 ft., the arc length spans 9¾ ft.
- The aforementioned blast radius is for an open area. If, for example, she were to punch in a narrow hall, the radius would adjust accordingly (again, think of the aforementioned “garden hose” analogy).
- Charlie can currently only punches at 100% power, and she is limited to one punch per each arm (two punches total) per day. This will later change through threading.
- Duration: The blast is instantaneous after Charlie extends her fist. She cannot prolong an explosive punch.
- Everything’s Spinning: Utilizing explosive punches makes Charlie dizzy. Imagine standing-up too fast, or physically exerting yourself after not drinking enough water. Charlie experiences a similar reeling-surroundings after dealing a concussive blast, and will take a few minutes to regain her footing afterwards (whether it be by leaning against a wall or walking with the aid of a friend).
- (More Physical Repercussions) Shadow-Boxing v. Actual Boxing: If Charlie throws an explosive punch, punching different consistencies can incur different results—if she punches something soft and squishy, such as a person, her joints will hurt thereafter. If she punches something rigid, like a building, her carapace may crack. As such, Charlie will (after learning more about her power), try to punch towards an object rather than landing a direct blow, to avoid cracking her shell. She will tend to be stiff afterwards anyways, regardless of whether or not she actually landed the blow.
Physical AbilitiesGeneral Physical Capabilities: Charlie is superhumanly strong, and in short bursts, fast. Her reflexes are fantastic (given her eyesight and speed) but her stamina, agility, and flexibility are horrible. It takes a lot of energy to move a creature as massive as Charlie—so, while she can run in short bursts, it doesn’t last very long, and it’s difficult for her to change directions. It also takes her a while to slow down. Her chitinous carapace limits her flexibility drastically.
Fighting Style: She has experience from fighting on the streets, but is generally unrefined.
Fighting Style Pros/Cons: Her disregard for usual fighting rules/explosive punches gives her an edge on average civilians, but her lack of training makes her useless against anyone with formal training.
History Of Your CharacterCharlie had a rather boring, conservative upbringing—her father was a boisterous, opinionated cop, her mother was a nurse. She was the youngest of three children, and the only daughter. Much of her time was spent traipsing around the nearby creek with her brothers and their friends, pretending to be knights or dragons. She was also a voracious reader from very early on.
She led a careless childhood, befriending mutants and humans alike despite her father’s vehement anti-mutant opinions—Charlie’s best friend, Johanna, bore a striking resemblance to a dragon of yore. They were inseperable throughout elementary school, and as they approached junior high, Johanna confessed her feelings for Charlie. They dated, secretly, throughout their seventh grade year. They would hold hands and kiss, and read books by the creek…
One day, Charlie’s middle brother caught the two girls kiss by the creek. Despite Charlie’s pleas, he ran to her father and ratted her out. Once she returned home, a huge fight between Charlie and her father erupted. He screamed about how he would not have some lesbian living under his roof, especially one that was dating a mutant. He insisted that Charlie break-up with Johanna, or get out of his house. Charlie screamed back at him, heartbroken and betrayed. Without warning, Charlie blacked-out and began to seize.
Her mutation had begun to emerge. She was only thirteen.
For a month and a half, Charlie slipped in and out of consciousness, her waking moments filled with the spasming pain of transformation, which was often so intense that it would push her back into unconsciousness. She lost all sense of who she was, or where she was, in that dark room.
When she finally came-to, all that remained was a scared creature and disjointed memories. Frightened by her transformation, her parents had locked her in the basement. Her father, convinced that no daughter of his could be such a monstrous mutant, assumed that a mutant had invaded her body like some sci-fi movie, and was determined to “beat it out of her” to get his daughter back. There was no telling how long she was kept down there. Beatings were punctuated by meager meals. She lost track of the days that she measured through the window of the basement. One day, when the house was quiet, Charlotte used her shoulder to bust through the door, and she escaped into the outer world.
For a few days, the young mutant operated on a feral mindset—eat, drink, hide from humans, and survive—she took refuge along the creek where she’d spent so many days of her youth, until her memories returned. When she realized the full brunt of what had happened, the young mutant realized that her only choice was to leave.
The young mutant went to Seattle first, falling in with a band of traveling mutants. Having renounced her old name, the travelers rebranded her—Chief. Chief tagged along with them for months, following them down the West Coast to San Francisco. But, after a particularly uproarious concert, she lost track of them. Thus, she remained in the city, alone.
For a homeless teen, making ends meet was difficult, so Chief took to pickpocketing tourists. As a lone mutant who lived on the streets, Blue was regularly the target of attacks. She learned to carry her own, fighting ferociously to protect what was rightfully hers. She fought gangbangers who were not quite high enough in the ranks yet and wanted to prove something by beating her up. She fought anti-mutant extremists. Chief fought because she had no other choice, and she survived. Her reputation on the streets steadily grew.
One day, a big-wig from an all-mutant gang offered her security in exchange for her services, as a runner and a fighter. Chief agreed, intrigued by the offer of food, shelter, and safety. She became a runner for them. She carried messages, drugs, whatever, from the Big Boss to her distributors. Charlie was fast, and no one messed with her, so she quickly fell into the boss’s favor. She no longer needed to steal. Life was good. The young teen was blissfully unaware of so many of the darker parts of the gang…
The rest… what happened after that…?At 14, reality came crashing down when she saw a friend, another runner, die by a gunshot wound. They shot at her, too, but the bullet ricocheted off of her shoulder, only chipping the chitin. Mutant vigilantes interrupted the fight. The others fled, leaving a frightened Chief to cling protectively to her deceased friend, hissing at anyone who dared get too close…
Mouth died? Did I die? No, he couldn’t have died… who were those men in the suits? Cops… villains?Everything is skewed, like squinting at a camera that was knocked out of focus.
Am I dead? Alive? Why is it so dark?An entire life ahead of the prawn, wiped clean by unknown forces. A decade-and-a-half of growth, rewound—she was supposed to be 29 years old, the manager of a nightclub, residing in New York for almost 10 years now.
But when the clock was reset, all that was whipped away.
Jacquelyn Dyer. Who? Haven. What’s that? Xavier’s? Never heard of it.Charlie was fourteen again. And again she was awakening in darkness with only shards of her memory left in-tact. A man’s voice. A glint of a needle in the darkness. And an ominous promise.
“It’ll all be over soon, darling. Soon you’ll be human again.”
Strain against the fetters, a mewl of distress one strap snaps. A yell, a bright flash of light. I close my eyes.Charlie was standing in a street in a linen gown, taxi horns blaring.
Who am I…? Where am I…?No answers, only noise.
RoleplayWhat’s your OOC alias?: Sophy
Where did you learn about this site?: Former member, I don’t remember how originally.
Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Too many to count! But I’m just bringing Charlie back for now.
Sample RP: Something stirred in the shadows, ambling over the ground on all fours. In the tall shadows of late evening, it was difficult to discern what the creature was. Two luminous eyes stared out of the dark, and blue lights danced along its shell, outlining its shape as something inhuman and worthy of fear.
Its attention was locked onto a rack of clothes, stationed just outside of a business. A handwritten sign in a plastic stand declared the rack as “clearance”, marked at 50% off. The clothes were gothic in styling—black cargo shorts with too many straps and spikes and pockets, neon-on-black, popular-culture t-shirts and tank-tops alike, last season’s hoodies—anything that provided more insulation than the linen gown was sufficient.
The creature poked its head out of the mouth of the alleyway, casing its surroundings. No pedestrians. No cars. Perfect.
It bolted across the street on all fours, bee-lining for the rack. In the dusky light, its carapace glinted, revealing the creature to be vaguely bug-like yet vaguely humanoid, though no trait predominated over another. The creature rose on its hind legs to rip a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and a hoodie off of the rack without checking the sizes, and then it quickly ambled into the alley on its hind legs, taking refuge behind a dumpster. The theft had been so quick, nobody had noticed or pursued the creature. The prawn sat on its haunches as it tore off its linen robe, disposing of the gown in the open dumpster. The creature then crouched nude beside the dumpster, paying no mind to the chill, as it prepped the clothes. Paper tags were torn free, security tags was deftly smashed in a clenched fist.
The creature rose onto its hind legs, wriggling into the pants, first, before donning the t-shirt and hoodie.
The outfit hung loosely on its frame for, though it stood approximately six feet tall, its form was emaciated and gaunt. The shirt boasted a design for a cartoon it didn’t recognize
That’s how it had been, these past few days—the prawn was in a city it didn’t know, with streets filled with cars it had never seen, and the technology was… otherworldly. It didn’t have time to try and understand why things were the way they were—there was a man with a needle looking for her. She had to keep putting distance between her and that man.
IndividualCharacter's Full Name: Joanna Olivia Beasley Jacquelyn Dyer
Alias/ Nickname/ Code Name: She prefers “Jack”, not that it matters. Everyone call her “Chief”. She’s not actually in-charge of anything, she just doesn’t take any s***.
Gender: A subject that is often debated—contrary to what her regulars believe, she’s female.
Age: 27
Date of Birth: 08/27/1990
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of Origin: Mount Vernon, Washington
Nationality: American
Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: European medley
AppearanceJack's Lovely Mug (Appearance and Height Ref.)Hair Color and Style: Bald, chitinous carapace
Skin Tone: Iridescent, predominantly teal and green.
Eye Color: Sclera not visible, iris is lavender. Pupil is a slit that expands and contracts, much like a lizard’s.
Height: 7’6”, if she happens to stand-up straight. (Usually hunches at around 6’3”-6’6”)
Build: Inhuman, well built, dense.
Visible Mutation: Well, she’s a mantis shrimp monster. So there’s that. (More details in the Mutation Section).
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: She always looks a little ragged (chips and scratches on her chitin), but most of those heal within a reasonable amount of time. There isn’t much beyond that.
Other Features: The only situation where one will see Jack walking tall is when she’s on-the-job. Otherwise, she slouches around, trying to detract attention from herself. Despite her size, she’s pretty light on her feet. Usually she walks bipedally, except to run, she’ll shift to quadrupedal for that. Her face is typically set in a scowl.
Everyday Clothing Style: Masculine, urban, active. She doesn’t fit women’s clothes and like the free range of motion she gets from men’s. She favors cargo shorts, black tank tops, and hoodies in public. With friends, she’ll go shirtless. (Without secondary sex characteristics, it’s no big deal. Plus, her little secondary arms get all cramped from being under clothes all the time.) Jack can’t wear shoes.
Uniform: For business purposes, she wears men’s suits: typically a shirt with the sleeves bunched at the elbows, a neck tie, a semi-fitted vest, and slacks.
Sleepwear: Nude. Once again, as she lacks the usual secondary sex characteristics that a human might possess, it’s not that big of a deal. She’ll put on boxers if someone sleeps over, for their own delicate sensibilities.
Miscellaneous Clothing: Regardless of the mode of dress or undress, Jack covers her mouth in public. Be it with a scarf, a surgical mask, anything—because her mouth is gross, yo. She also carries a messenger bag, which contains a sketchbook (mostly filled with woodwork sketches), her wallet, her keys, and her smart phone. There’s an old Polaroid in one pocket of two young women—an apparent human and a draconic looking one. She also has her whittling supplies in there, which entail a collection of small blocks of wood, and a really nice whittling knife.
CharacterPersonality: Jack runs with a tough crowd, and her personality reflects this. She is a gruff woman who speaks very sparsely. Although she is very easygoing, the combined effect of her appearance and her bluntness leads many to be intimidated by her. She relies on physical cues—expression, gesture, touches—to communicate her mood, and has no reservations against using violence, if it’s the most effective means to reaching the desired end.
That doesn’t mean that Jack is a brawler, however—quite the contrary. Most nights, she keeps to herself, sitting at the back of
Chrysalis and reading trashy paperbacks, waiting to get radioed to another part of the club. She’s the “muscle” that escorts you out when you get too blithering drunk to function. If anyone were to sit down with her and start chatting her up, they’d realize she’s very chill, even good-humored, once they get past the stoic outer layer.
Jack still doesn’t talk, though. She has a myriad of human and inhuman vocalizations, but she doesn’t speak. So, she maintains the aloof demeanor. The one scenario that will inevitably get Jack to initiate interaction is, without fail, if you are a child, friend, or fellow mutant who is under attack. Jack has a huge protective instinct, and will charge to the defense of “her own” without any regard for her own well-being. She even shows a certain degree of care and affection towards the regulars at
Chrysalis, although it’s kind of a tough-love and at-arm’s-length type of affection.
Jack lived on the streets for years, and thus knows a thing or two about them. Some might even say that she is “street-smart”, or the very least shrewd. While she is smart, she is also modest, and has little patience for academics, narcissists, or bigots. While she is quite endearing towards both women and men, she has no patience for feminine things. She also holds a droll attitude towards mutant extremists (vigilantes or villains), but will tolerate them as long as they don’t cause trouble in her nightclub.
Hobbies/ Interests: Reading, sports (spectating and participating, although she typically plays alone), nighttime walks, swimming, building things (woodwork predominantly), urban exploration, listening to jazz
Job and Description: Bouncer at Chrysalis, a nightclub and lounge that is very popular amongst the mutant population. Training to be a bodyguard. UPDATE: Manager at Inferno, Security at Xaviers Temporarily on-holdFears/ Phobias/ Concerns: Jack is afraid of being really, truly alone, but she is also afraid of intimacy. Which leads to a very amusing self-fulfilling prophecy kind of thing. She is likewise afraid of being found by her family/old friends again, despite living on the streets for years and even changing her name. While on the streets, she was slightly more feral, so Jack is also afraid of reverting to that.
She’s very cautious around men, particularly those involved with law enforcement. One might argue that she’s afraid of them, but Jack would never fess-up to that.
Jack is also hyper-aware of how she carries herself around others, particularly kids. She is concerned with accidentally frightening them, although she refuses to admit it, and so she will crouch down to their level, and act very gently towards them. (Usually without avail, but she still
tries.) Jack insists that she hates children, but this is subject to debate.
Special Talents: Jack is a rather adept woodworker—carving, building, whatever.
MoralityNeutral: She’s neither good nor bad—she’s just practical. Logical. Maybe a little cold. The only time her heart guides her decisions is when another mutant or a friend is involved. But even then, her emotional reactions are written off as “just making sense”. Jack does what she has to, to achieve her goals, and her rationale very rarely follows the lines of what is lawful. She’s not criminal, but she isn’t good either. Therefore, neutral.
MutationsMutation Description: Jack could best be described as an anthropomorphic mantis shrimp. The coloration of her chitinous exoskeleton suggests that she fought a losing battle against a rainbow. Teal adorns most of her body, with rich emerald spots dappling her upper back, shoulders, back of her neck and crown her head. Her face is a pale blue, and transitions into a darker blue across her abdomen, pelvis, and legs. Splotches of green color her elbows and shoulders, but the rest of her arms are a mottled red-orange.
Coloration aside, she’s still quite the spectacle. Sharp chitinous spikes protrude from her carapace at the elbows and along of her lower arms, along her calves, shoulders, and along the ramus of her jaw. She walks on digitigrade feet with four, tentacle-like toes. Her disproportionately-long arms boast a trio of tentacle-like fingers, which are armored along the outside portions. She also possesses a secondary pair of arms beneath what would best be described as the ribs, which are miniscule compared to the primary pair (about the size of a small child’s arms). Little red filaments sprout out of her calves.
Two pairs of antennae protrude from the crown of her head, and where a “mouth” would typically be, there sits a pair of mandibles (for chewing/shredding) and six maxillipeds (guide food back to the mandibles). The third pair of maxilipeds, the largest/outermost pair, cover and protect the remaining mouth parts. Her head is slightly bigger than the average humans, but proportionate to her body. Her jawline (despite the modified mouth structure) is still vaguely humanoid. (Author Note: I thoroughly based her design on the prawns from District 9, the main difference being the size of her hands and feet, and structure of the mouth.)
Strengths: - Her chitinous shell provides added durability in the areas that it covers. Jack can withstand blunt force trauma with small items (i.e. a crowbar) and low caliber gunshots
- Minor regenerative capabilities, for her antennae and limbs
- Heightened senses of smell, sight, and hearing: Jack can see clearly in low-light and no light situations, and has catlike hearing.
- Much like her Animalia counterpart, Jack packs a nasty punch. For that matter, her strength and speed are at superhuman levels.
- Jack has a myriad of human and inhuman vocalizations at her disposal, which entail (but aren’t limited too) laughter, sighs, growls, purrs, chirps, trills, and so-on. She also has a very expressive face, which aids in communicating with others. (The extent of her speech impediment is also discussed in the Weaknesses and Limitations section.)
Weaknesses and Limitations: The most obvious weakness is that Jack looks the way she does 24/7. It makes her easily identifiable, and causes a whole host of issues related to her form. (It also makes her love life virtually nonexistent, as she is not remotely female or even human in appearance.)
- Her mouth parts are not designed for speech. For the most part, she can fudge it, but since she has neither lips nor teeth, certain consonants prove difficult for her. If one’s patient and decent at understanding heavily impeded speech, they might be able to interpret. Jack, however, is really self-conscious about how she sounds. Ergo her stoicism. If absolutely necessary, she’s got a text-to-speech app on her phone with fairly realistic (albeit monotone) voices.
- Her increased senses of sight, hearing, and smell mean that she is more susceptible to attacks that assault the senses. Sudden loud noises, bright flashes of light, or really astringent scents will send her reeling (and, likely, running).
- Jack’s senses of taste and smell are facilitated through her antennae. Thus, she doesn’t “taste” things the way others might. She tastes things chemically. As such, she favors organic foods, as the overly-processed stuff just tastes nasty.
- As aforementioned, Jack has minor regenerative capabilities. This only applies to antennae and limbs. It takes about one week to regrow an antennae. To regrow half of an arm, it’d take 3 months. To regrow a whole arm or half of a leg, 6 months. To regrow an entire leg, 1 year. Jack is not impervious to the side effects of blood loss or infection, however. Her chitin repairs itself (so if she gets a scratch, dent, or puncture) at a rate comparable to how human skin heals.
- Although she is resistant to blunt force trauma and low caliber bullets, she is not impervious. Repeatedly striking the same area will wear it down. Likewise, if she is fired at with a higher caliber bullet (.45 as opposed to a .22), it will prove lethal.
- Jack’s strength and speed sit at superhuman levels. She can run, in short bursts, at about 30 m.p.h. It takes a lot of energy for her to run that fast, however, and so at most she can maintain that speed for 10 seconds. It takes a while for her to slow down, given how massive she is. Strength-wise, she can lift about 300 lbs. with one of her primary arms, with ease. When Jack punches, the combined effect of the force with which she punches, her weight, and the exoskeleton that covers the entirety of her hand, Jack punches like a pro boxer with brass knuckles. Her secondary hands, just beneath the ribs, have about as lifting capabilities as a small, human child’s arms. Her primary hands are best suited for uses that require strength, whereas her secondary hands are better suited for exercises that require dexterity.
- Jacks’ soft spots are the palms of her hands, mouth (when opened), throat, eyes, the hollow of her elbows, the back of her knees, and under the arms. The bottoms of Jack’s feet are slightly more sensitive than the armored portions of her body, but resilient enough that she can walk around barefoot. (She’ll craft makeshift foot-coverings if it is really hot or below freezing.) Her antennae, as well as her secondary arms, are also extremely sensitive. Jack’s face, which is covered in chitinous scales, is more susceptible to damage simply because the chitin is not as thick.
- Every six months, she molts (much in the way cats or dogs shed to get their “winter coats” or “summer coats”). The process takes 3 days, it’s messy, and her shell is unusually soft for a day or two after that. Molting causes a spike in her hunger, irritability and other impulsive behaviors.
Power Growth, July 18th, 2017:Secondary Mutation Description: If Jack throws a punch in a moment of distress (anger, fear), the mechanics of this motion will trigger a shockwave that radiates from her fist. Anything caught in that conical blast radius will be affected, the severity of the effect determined by how close the target is to her fully extended fist. Each blow emits a loud BANG.
A side-effect of this is, like many deep-sea creatures, Jack bioluminesces (only apparent to the average human when it’s dark). The pores in her carapace exude a faint blue light. When Jack is powering up to punch, her bioluminescent pores will brighten. This is not, however, a surefire indicator—she may brighten in other extreme emotions (beyond anger or fear, such as excitement, delight, arousal… etc.)
Strengths:- Increased durability in her arms—even the soft-tissue parts, under her arm and on the inside of her elbow—are more durable in order to support the concussive force off the punches.
- Punching into an enclosed space (i.e. a hallway) as opposed to an open space increases the pressure of the shockwave (think of a when you press your thumb over the opening of a hose, how the water goes from a dribble to a high-pressure spray… it’s the same concept).
- Get Behind Me! If Jack doesn’t want to hit someone, standing behind her is an effective way to avoid getting caught in the blast. If you jump aside, you can also avoid getting hit by the blast.
- Everything’s Spinning: Each punch emits a resounding CRACK!, akin to a loud firecracker. It’s enough to send opponents (and, unfortunately, teammates) reeling from the shock—can lead to dizziness, ringing ears, and an inability to focus one’s vision. Effects tend to diminish within a minute.
Weaknesses and Limitations:- General Lack of Control: Jack cannot pick-and-choose what will be affected by the blast, beyond aiming which direction she throws her punch. Friends, innocent bystanders, whatever. If you’re in the way, you’ll get hit, end of story.
- The effect of the strike is variable based on your proximity to Jack’s fist, and is as follows (for the average human)—at less than 4ft. Jack can deal heavy structural damage to buildings/metallic objects, cause structural collapse in wood-frame residential buildings, and deal significant injuries, with 10-25% chance of fatalities (~102 mph winds). At less than 8ft. Jack may cause minor (but repairable) structural damage, might topple a concrete block wall, or cause minor injuries (~70mph winds). At 12 ft., there may be superficial damage to buildings, buckled sheet metal, minor injuries are possible (~38 mph winds). And finally, at 16ft., the force of the blow will shatter window glass, and debris may cause superficial injury.
- Deadliness: While the blow itself can cause bruising, ruptures, and broken bones in a human, it is not deadly independently. It all depends on how your character lands, and what they land on.
- Those affected by her shockwave punch must be within the blast zone. The blast radiates out at a 35* angle. At 4 ft., the arc length spans 2½ feet, while at 16 ft., the arc length spans 9¾ ft.
- The aforementioned blast radius is for an open area. If, for example, she were to punch in a narrow hall, the radius would adjust accordingly (again, think of the aforementioned “garden hose” analogy).
- Jack can currently only punches at 100% power, and she is limited to one punch per each arm (two punches total) per day. This will later change through threading.
- Duration: The blast is instantaneous after Jack extends her fist. She cannot prolong an explosive punch.
- Everything’s Spinning: Utilizing explosive punches makes Jack dizzy. Imagine standing-up too fast, or physically exerting yourself after not drinking enough water. Jack experiences a similar reeling-surroundings after dealing a concussive blast, and will take a few minutes to regain her footing afterwards (whether it be by leaning against a wall or walking with the aid of a friend).
- (More Physical Repercussions) Shadow-Boxing v. Actual Boxing: If Jack throws an explosive punch, punching different consistencies can incur different results—if she punches something soft and squishy, such as a person, her joints will hurt thereafter. If she punches something rigid, like a building, her carapace may crack. As such, Jack will (after learning more about her power), try to punch towards an object rather than landing a direct blow, to avoid cracking her shell. She will tend to be stiff afterwards anyways, regardless of whether or not she actually landed the blow.
Physical AbilitiesGeneral Physical Capabilities: Jack is superhumanly strong, and in short bursts, fast. Her reflexes are fantastic (given her eyesight and speed) but her stamina, agility, and flexibility are horrible. It takes a lot of energy to move a creature as massive as Jack—so, while she can run in short bursts, it doesn’t last very long, and it’s difficult for her to change directions. It also takes her a while to slow down. Her chitinous carapace limits her flexibility drastically.
Fighting Style: She has basic martial arts training, but as she is studying to become a bodyguard, her hand-to-hand skills are becoming more refined. While Jack throws a good punch, she tries to avoid it as much as possible, unless she actually wants to do some damage. She fights with the aim of diffusing situations and disarming her opponents.
Fighting Style Pros/Cons: She knows enough to carry her own, against civilians, but not enough to be effectual against trained combatants. She punches well, but refuses to use them against people that she doesn’t actually want to do harm to. She relies a little too heavily on intimidation, which doesn’t work against opponents that are bigger or more dangerous than you.
History Of Your CharacterJoanna had a rather boring, conservative upbringing—her father was a boisterous, opinionated cop, her mother was a nurse. She was the youngest of three children, and the only daughter. Much of her time was spent traipsing around the nearby creek with her brothers and their friends, pretending to be knights or dragons. She was also a voracious reader from very early on.
One of Joanna’s best friends, growing up, was a mutant girl named Chelsea. They met in first grade, when Chelsea moved into town and started at Joanna’s school. They were inseparable, despite the protests of Joanna’s anti-mutant father. Throughout elementary school, they were incredibly close—and at the end of sixth grade, Chelsea confessed her crush on Joanna. They started “dating” shortly thereafter. (Which was almost exactly like being friends, except they held hands and hugged a little longer.) Their relationship endured the summer and into seventh grade, during which they had their first kiss. They decided to keep the relationship a secret, because at this point, Joanna had a fairly solid grasp of her father’s anti-mutant attitudes. They would hangout by the creek after school, talking and kissing and reading books.
One day, Joanna’s middle brother caught the two girls sitting down by the creek, and saw them kiss. Despite Joanna’s pleas, he ran to her father and told-on Joanna. While Joanna walked her girlfriend home, she received an angry call, demanding she return at once. Chelsea pleaded to come with, to support her, but Joanna declined. It would be better if Chelsea waited in the safety of her own house, for this thing to blow over.
Joanna walked home slowly, and when she returned, a huge fight between her and her father erupted. He screamed about how he would not have some lesbian living under his roof, especially one that was dating a mutant. He insisted that Joanna break-up with her childhood friend, or get out of his house, stating that dating Chelsea would be defying his authority. Tearfully, Joanna fought back, defending her friend and their relationship. Before the fight could proceed any farther, however, Joanna blacked-out and began to seize.
Her mutation had begun to emerge. She was only thirteen.
For a month and a half, Joanna slipped in and out of consciousness, her waking moments filled with the spasming pain of transformation, which was often so intense that it would push her back into blacking out. She lost all sense of who she was, or where she was, in that dark room.
When she finally awoke, all that remained was a scared creature. She awoke in darkness, all except for a single bar of light across the room. When the young mutant heard footsteps up above, she tried to move, but she was shackled to the wall by her wrists. She cried-out to the footsteps, thinking that perhaps they didn’t know she was there, or that they’d release her.
When the owner of the footsteps responded, however, they came bearing a baseball bat. The man descended down the creaky, wooden stairs into the basement, and beat her. He fractured the carapace in multiple places, demanding to know what the mutant had done with his daughter, Joanna, and where Joanna was. At first, the mutant cowered and begged, sobbing. But, when the assault did not relent, she lashed against her bonds, breaking the fetters around her wrists. She shoved the man with both hands, throwing him against the wall and knocking the wind out of him, the force of the blow knocking him out. It was then that the young mutant made a break for it.
For a few days, the young mutant operated on a feral mindset—eat, drink, hide from humans, and survive— until her memories returned. When she realized the full brunt of what had happened, the young mutant still felt a tad dissociative from her memories. Joanna had been locked in the basement by her parents, who would rather think that their daughter had been kidnapped, than come to terms with her mutation. Joanna even questioned her own humanity, for it felt so far away. Unsure of where to go, she turned to Chelsea for counsel, or perhaps shelter.
Although Chelsea initially reacted with fear, upon seeing the bloodied creature standing on her doorstep, Joanna was eventually able to explain what had happened. Much to the newly-transformed mutant’s surprise, however, Chelsea also spurned her. Tearfully, Chelsea proclaimed that Joanna had been her one shot at a normal life, and now that Joanna was a freak like her, she didn’t love her anymore. With nowhere to go, the young mutant retreated to the creek where she spent many of her childhood years. When day broke, she went to her old neighborhood, waiting for her parents to leave for work and her brothers to school. She broke into her old house, gathering a few of her most treasured possessions. After that, she left town, and never returned.
The young mutant went to Seattle first, falling in with a band of traveling mutants. Having renounced her old name, the travelers assigned her a new one—Big Blue. Blue tagged along with them for months, following them down the West Coast to San Francisco. But, after a particularly uproarious concert, she lost track of them. Thus, she remained in the city, alone.
For a homeless teen, making ends meet was difficult, so Blue took to pickpocketing tourists. As a lone mutant who lived on the streets, Blue was regularly the target of attacks. She learned to carry her own, fighting ferociously to protect what was rightfully hers. She fought gangbangers who were not quite high enough in the ranks yet and wanted to prove something by beating the blue freak that was always near the piers. She fought anti-mutant extremists. Blue fought because she had no other choice, and she survived. Her reputation on the streets steadily grew.
One day, a big-wig from an all-mutant gang offered her the ultimatum—she either worked for him, or got out of his town. Having made a decent niche for herself, and not desiring to leave, Blue agreed. She became a runner for them. She carried messages, drugs, whatever, from distributors to the Big Boss. She was fast, and no one messed with her, so she quickly fell into his favor. She still stole, but now it was for sport, as the gang provided for her, to a certain extent.
It wasn’t until Blue witnessed her friend, another runner, die by a gunshot wound. They shot at her, too, but the bullet ricocheted off of her shoulder, only chipping the chitin. The battle was broken-up when mutant vigilantes in dumb suits intervened, disarming those who were actively involved in the fight. They found Blue clinging protectively to her deceased friend, hissing at anyone who dared get too close. Eventually, one of the vigilantes was able to talk her down, and coerced her to go with them, to a mutant boarding school just outside of town. She could have three meals a day, her own bed, and it would probably be worlds better than living with a gang. Blue agreed.
Adjusting was difficult, for the young teen—it had been over a year since she had attended school, and her time on the streets had skewed her moral compass. She was constantly getting into fights with the other children, always on the defense, and she would not show-up for meals in the cafeteria. Instead, she would steal the food after hours, bashful about eating around others. They tried to put Jack in counseling, but she resisted for a long time, constantly on the defensive. For a while, she had poor grades, and she was held back due to the year that she had missed.
The only class she flourished in, and the only teacher she seemed to get along with, was with the woodshop instructor. The woodshop instructor was a patient and soft-spoken mutant man, who weathered all of Blue’s outbursts with a seemingly bottomless reserve of patience. He helped her with her studies, and in exchange introduced more and more difficult projects to challenge her.
After a short period of time at the Institute, some of the staff there helped her to get an emancipated minor status. Shortly thereafter, the woodshop instructor helped Blue legally change her name by providing her with the financial sponsorship to do so. It was then that Jacquelyn Dyer was born. In small steps, Jack improved. She caught-up in her remedial work, stopped stealing, and didn’t actively pick fights with other students. Soon, she was able to raise her grades to a C average, and even got the occasional B. (The only A’s she received was, as one would expect, woodshop, where she actually seemed to be quite the prodigy.)
When she was nineteen, Jack graduated, and the staff at the Institute—who had practically become her family over the five previous years—informed her that, unless she joined their merry band of vigilantes, or became a teacher, she would be asked to move-out to make room for other incoming students.
Wanting neither of those, Jack moved-out, having accepted a job as a construction worker. She lived in a house with five other mutant and mutant-friendly housemates. For a while, life was good. She lived in a decent (wealthy) part of East Bay, and was doing well for herself.
But, one day, one of her old acquaintances from the gang she had run with found her, while she was at a job. He left a small, brown paper bag with one of the other construction workers, then left, saying that Jack had forgotten her lunch. When Jack opened it, there was a note written on the napkin, containing her address and a brief note—return to the gang, or they would come to her house and shoot it up. Having been taken-in by the mutant vigilantes, so many years ago, Jack had avoided the legal trouble involved with being affiliated with a gang. Feeling that she couldn’t approach the police with this conundrum, and wanting neither to return to the gang nor get her roommates involved, Jack decided it was in her best interest to leave. She had very few possessions of her own, packed the necessities. She gave her landlord thirty days’ notice, a check for the next month’s rent, told her friends that a family emergency had arisen and she needed to go, and bought a one-way ticket from San Francisco to New York City. At the airport, she called the gang member who had made contact with her, and left him with a brief message, “I go now. I moo’d out. You wi’ ne’r see ‘lue again.” (I go now, I moved out. You will never see ‘Blue’ again.)
She has since lived in the city. At first, landing a job was hard, because many of the stores she applied to were hesitant to employ such a gruesome mutant. Ultimately, she managed to land a job with a nightclub, after the proprietor witnessed her breaking-up a fight between four grown men. Jack lives in a small studio in a rough part of town, continues to work at
Chrysalis full-time, and likes to carve food in her spare time. (She peddles her carvings for a little extra cash, in areas with heavy tourist traffic.) She’s lived in New York City for five years and has enjoyed the relative freedom that has accompanied it.
UPDATE:
Since joining the boards, Jack accepted a position working security at Xavier's. She started dating Zinnia , and later accepted a managerial position at Inferno, the nightclub under Haven's jurisdiction.
08/03/2017:
Jack quit her job at Chrysalis, and was walking home when she encountered someone she mistook to be Jude ... this was actually her AV!self, Blue, propelled to the MRO side after SUPER agents chased her across the Rip. Blue was in sad shape, and Jack took it upon herself to mend her fellow prawn's injuries. Unbeknownst to Jack, however, the SUPER agents tailed Blue back to Jack's apartment, and a fight ensued. Blue was killed, and in a moment of terror, Jack's power growth emerged, killing one of the SUPER agents and decimating the front-facing wall of her apartment. Terrified and unsure of where to turn, Jack sought the protection and aid of her employer, Tempest .
She has since been in-hiding at Haven's Headquarters, believed to be dead by many of those that know her. She hasn't shown-up at Xavier's in months, hasn't been seen by her (presumed to be an ex) girlfriend, etc.RoleplayWhat’s your OOC alias?: Sophy
Where did you learn about this site?: Former member, I don’t remember how originally.
Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Gina Schuyler ,
Chase Taylor , and @humanwill
Sample RP: The prawn occupied two seats when she took the subway—she very rarely did. It was a cramped space, she had to hunch to fit in the capsule, and there were too many people for comfort. The night before had been full of nightmares, however—a collage of old memories (the worst of them) slapped together with the heavy-handed symbolism only attainable in dreams. Jack didn’t feel up to walking to
Chrysalis. By a strike of fortune, the exhausted prawn had snagged a pair of seats directly next to the door, and she sat with her legs sprawled and the messenger bag upon her lap.
Between the finger and thumb of one of her primary hands, she lightly grasped a small Polaroid, upon which there was two, smiling girls. Jack closed her eyes, breathing a sigh through the thin fabric of her surgical mask.
“Come on, Chelsea, just one picture!”
“Joey, no! Don’t make me, please? I hate getting pictures taken of me.”Jack had been Joanna, back then—an absolute imp—a child, unaware of what life would hold for her.
“Chels, come on~” she had pleaded, a smirk twisting her lips, “You’re beautiful. Like no other. Just one picture? For me? Please?”
Chelsea had pouted. She could resist Joanna’s grin.
“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease,” Joey reiterated, flopping over Chelsea’s lap in a dramatic mock-faint.
“Two,” the draconic girl conceded, giggling, “One for you, and one for me.”
“Yeah!” cheered Joey, sitting up quickly. She held the Polaroid camera out at arm’s length, pointing it at the two of them.
“Say fuzzy pickles!”
Joey snapped two pictures, each of which featured herself—grinning toothily, and perhaps a bit devilishly—and Chelsea, whose smile was timid and small.
“Which one do you want?” Chelsea had asked, as the two watched the photos developing on the grass, before their eyes. Joey folded her arms, humming as she watched the two squares.
As the transition finished, Joey pointed at one photo dramatically, proclaiming, “This one! ‘cuz you look like you have a halo in it!”It was true. The sunlight crested over Chelsea’s horned head and golden hair like a halo, filtering in through her leathery, green wings. Chelsea had laughed and pushed Joey’s arm lightly, giggles rippling out of her. It was the summer before seventh grade.
Jack wasn’t particularly given to nostalgia. Only when her nightmares dredged-up old memories and rearranged them, did Jack pull the Polaroid out and remind herself of what was real. Last night, she had dreamt of Chelsea again, dreamt that instead of fleeing to San Francisco on her own, that her old friend had come with her. They pickpocketed together, joined the gang together.
Instead of the other runner dying, Chelsea had passed-away instead.
Jack rubbed her thumb along the edge of the Polaroid. Thankfully, it was just a dream. She had left Chelsea in Mt. Vernon, twelve years ago. Just a dream. Jack slid the photo back into her bag. It was never just a dream.
