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Alright y'all, this is a superhero roleplay. Ya know the drill. Read, sign up. Also, I have set this to music. Either follow the links or just listen to the first four songs of this playlist. So, without further ado, I present to you-
(Heroes Header by RAVENLTB9 me on DeviantArt)
The year is 2033.
Bad things are happening.
The city of Chicago is undergoing a tough time, to say the least. A rough patch of crime, corruption, murder, death and villainy. And in such a world, people tend to the darker side of things without much prodding. Loving fathers with second-rate jobs turn to bribery and blackmail to keep their family fed. Unemployed, caring widows turn to prostitution. Emotionally broken teenagers turn to drugs, sex and crime. Brilliant entrepreneurs turn into corrupt, power-hungry millionaires and government officials stay essentially the same - corrupt. The whole world is suffering the same fate, but to some, Chicago stands as the glaring beacon of darkness and corruption, a sick, horrid city of lies and deceit. But overshadowing even the darkest shadows tower the villains of the world. The most evil, conniving, sniveling little rats of the world, often the most powerful human beings in all existence, the ones with the most money, the most pull, the most greed, the most troubled pasts, but above all, they are the most willing to perform evil to have their way.
And in such a world, with such evil and sadness and suffering and despair - what hope does it have?
What beacon of light can brighten the darkness of such a world?
Surely it must have hope, for a world without hope cannot continue to live. A world with out hope will inevitably tear itself to pieces.
So what is that one, single, shining hope that the suffering people of the world cling to?
(Funeral by DerRiedl on DeviantArt)
It was April, and it was doing what it did best - raining. For how did that old adage go?
April showers bring May flowers.
So one shivering day in April, the eighth, bone-chilling rain showered down on the many people cowering in fear in the city of Chicago. And in that city a funeral was being held. Dozens of the deceased's friends were gathered around the gravestone, all dressed in black. The rain made a gentle sound, a melancholy pitter-pat, and it disguised the sounds of sniffs and tears. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and clouds blocked the sun, capturing the city in a bleak gray fog that hung in the air, bringing the streets into shadow, a shadow that made way for more shadows.
“You know what this world’s problem is, Lexi?” a man said, holding back tears that were swelling in his angry blue eyes.
“I know, Danny. You’ve said it a million times before,” the girl laughed almost sadly, a sniffle following the laugh. “But if you need to, you can say it one more damn time,” she half-cried, half-laughed.
“Morality. There isn’t any," Daniel choked. A drop of rain dripped off of his nose and slid into his mouth, the salty taste indistinguishable from that of a similarly saline tear. "There’s no right or wrong anymore.” His fists clenched, his knuckles blossoming flowers of white across his hand. “Somewhere along the line, everybody got stupid.” He choked on his words again and looked into the sky. “So freaking stupid,” he scoffed, and Lexi let out an exasperated, halfhearted chuckle that lasted a nanosecond. They shivered in the rain, and Lexi hugged herself tightly around Daniel’s side. “This stupid, stupid world lost sight of morality. Everything’s a gray area. I intend to change that.”
“I know you do, you wonderful idiot,” Lexi said lovingly. The two shed tears at the death of their comrade. As cliche as the notion sounded, the sky itself seemed to weep with them.
“We’re gonna take down those monsters. We’re gonna do the right thing,” Daniel swore, staring off into the horizon, as yet another red mushroom cloud lifted up from the sight of the third explosion that week.
“Darn right we are,” Lexi said angrily as a faint scream reached their ears.
(Prison cells by Wanimation on DeviantArt)
Your head hurts like nothing else and your whole body throbs with numbness.
Where am I?
You wake up in a cell. It is small, steel, and has a small bed and a single window made of glass on the far wall, beside the door. And the bed - you are not on. Clearly whoever put you in here didn't have the common courtesy to put you on that bed, however uncomfortable it may be. You instead are lying on the cold, steel floor. Out that window, you can see what almost appears to be a viewing room, of sorts, on the other side of. A single, solitary wooden chair sits on the other side. If there's anything else there, you can't see it. But then suddenly there is something else there. A man walks in through a door you can't see, and sits down on the chair. He has a bleak, boring beige suit with a black tie and he wears an equally beige stetson hat with a golden hat band and below all of that, a pair of comfy-looking black loafers.
"Hello there," he says. His face looks middle-aged, maybe younger, and his movements are fluid and spry, but his voice is one of age. Old age. "I am Doctor Beige. Mister Beige, if you don't fancy saying 'Doctor' for whatever reason." He speaks with a tone of casual conversation, but everything in your body rings with a tone of specifically not casual. "Of course I am getting ahead of myself, and, golly, where are my manners?" he seems to laugh at this, although you can't quite tell - everything about this man is unsettling - his beige eyes, his dark skin that seems young but somehow wrinkled with time, a suit of beige and a hat of beige, with random bits of gold - a golden pocketwatch, a golden wristwatch, a golden clip on his black tie, a golden clip on his black loafers, and a golden earpiece of some sort - and with all of this, plus his strange voice that sounded almost like two people of drastically different ages speaking at once, you had trouble telling when he laughed if it was, in fact, a laugh at all.
"Where am I?" you manage to stammer, still incredibly weirded out by all of this.
"Yes, yes, I was getting to that. You are in Beige Towers, or one of them, one of the six, or, if you're rude, Smog Towers, as everybody calls this place. In my defense, it takes a lot of energy to power six towers full of prison cells, equipment and technology," he chuckled. "This is Level 44 of 88. You are in Room 91 of the 100 on this Level, and you are prisoner 30302. Ah, yes, I suppose a lot of the energy from the coal plants go to feeding those prisoners too. Artificial food. It's disgusting, really, but it keeps you alive."
"What the hell?" you stammer. That couldn't be possible. Smog Towers, the headquarters of one of the most rich and expansive companies in the world and headed by the second richest man in the world, this same Doctor Beige - was actually a prison block?
"Yes, yes, believe me, I know what you're thinking. That's no true, that's impossible, and all that Luke Skywalker crap, but yes, it is true, and it is possible. I am the Doctor Beige, CEO of the Beige Cybernetics, and you are in the Beige Towers, in Chicago, Illinois, America, Earth, Sol, Milky Way, Universe. And, news flash, you're not getting out."
"But . . . why?" you ask, horrified.
"Why what? Why hold this many prisoners, or why be evil? Well, the latter is simple. It's fun and easy and quite frankly the popular trend right now, and following trends is good for business." Doctor Beige took a sip out of a steaming mug he held in his right hand. "As for the former, well, I don't intend to fully divulge my secret, evil master plan to you, but I suppose a few little snippets can't hurt. Essentially, I have 30302 prisoners. I run a Cybernetics company. Look up." He took another sip while gesturing to the ceiling. A little tremblingly, you look up.
You gulp. It's a full-fledged . . . something. It's robotic, has dozens of medical instruments and syringes and dozens more things you've never seen before, and it is placed directly over your bed.
"In case you're too dull to figure it out - I'm going to experiment on you."
(Thackery cover 1 by AdamBurn on DeviantArt)
You remember vaguely of telling someone you were weird.
That you had superpowers.
You feel a little sore - you remember almost something like getting mugged, but it's just vague flashes of dark figures, incomprehensible, indistinct in the emptiness of your mind. you are in a cage - a steel box, very small, solid, no windows, just a flickering fluorescent light in the ceiling, blinding your unadjusted, waking eyes and a massive, also steel, door with no visible knob or keypad or any such thing. There is a rectangular indent in around the center of the door - you gather that it is most likely a hatch that a person on the opposite side of the door could pull open to peer inside. It is incredibly quiet.
And then you hear a horrifying scream echo through the building - horrid, throaty, phlegm-full, desperate. And then you hear muffled voices outside your door. You can just barely make them out.
"Looks like . . . " and then came an unintelligible word, and then "finished another. Yep, there . . . " and then the conversation became too hard to understand. You gulp. Finished another? Screams? What was going on here? Where were you? Who were these people? Why were you here?
"Open," came a surprisingly loud, clear and powerful voice, yet still from outside your door. You heard some more muffled voices, some metal squeaking, and then your door swung open with a deafening screech.
In walked a massive man with broad shoulders, a gruff face with rough facial hair, pearly eyes, shaggy brown hair, and incredibly red lips. He had a data-pad on his wrist and an earpiece in his ear, and what appeared to be a magnum in a holster around his waist, and a knife in a sheath on his shoulder. He wore what appeared to be body armor - like a person in the military. But you hadn't done anything wrong! Certainly not wrong enough for the military to care!
"Who are you?" you stammer. This is worrying you. This is terrifying. You shake with fear.
"That is not important. What's important is that you have a superpower. And I want it." He speaks with a booming, threatening voice and a strange accent. He clenches his fists. Want my power?
"Wait, wait, what?" you can't believe what you're hearing. You can almost remember that you figured out a while back you had superpowers, but everything is so hazy, and you can hardly remember anything, barely even your name, and now this man walks in and shuts the door behind him and says he wants your superpower? How do you take a superpower?
"You heard right. I want your superpower," the, who you now realize is Scandinavian, man says. And then he licked his lips. And then the fierce, dark red color upon them was gone, and his lips returned to their dull pink, the color a normal person's lips would hold. "If I am correct," he smacked his lips, "you have a superpower I very much desire." He said that last part with frightful . . . was it delight?
"What?" you gulp and back yourself into the cold corner, tripping backwards onto your small, uncomfortable bed.
"Can you do anything beside question me?" he grunted, taking a few steps after you into the room. "No matter." He bent his neck back on forth to one side, a loud pop being heard each time. "Are we going to do this the easy way?" and then he cracked his knuckles, the data-pad on his wrist catching the light.
"Or the hard way?"
(Chicago L: Randolph Stop by spudart on DeviantArt)
You walk down the street in the chilly, April air.
It was getting late.
It was evening on April 8th. A cold mist had come down over the city, and a storm was moving in from the hills. Puddles had already set on the streets and the sidewalks - how, you did not know. All you knew was that you had to get home. You were in the dangerous part of Chicago, now. The downtown, the alleys, gang territory, practically. And it was late, and it was dark, and the magenta and gold lights from the advertisements and street lamps would not keep you safe from the shadows. The shadows were everywhere.
A prostitute "seductively" waves at you from a far away street corner. No matter what you might normally do, you ignored it. You had to get home. You were power-walking now, hiding your wallet, trying to be inconspicuous. You didn't normally have to go through this part of Chicago, and when you had, before, you had either been in a taxi or it had been much, much earlier - or both. But for whatever reason, this time, you were alone, walking through the abandoned downtown industrial streets of late-night Chicago.
And it was getting later.
But you wouldn't get mugged that night. That night, any gangs or wrongdoers or muggers or criminals or murderers or serial killers or druggies of any sort wouldn't harm you. They may have thought about it, but they didn't. Because that night, something far worse happened. Something awful. That night, you got your superpowers. But you would have much preferred an easier way.
An explosion ripped through the streets. Manholes exploded from the pressure, water and steam blowing up through the holes and showering down. The streets were torn up, a blastwave rippling through the tar like the hump traveling along a cracked whip. Buildings were leveled and bricks rained down on the alleys. Fire flooded the sidewalk and a cloud of shrapnel, smoke, blood and fire blossomed from the epicenter of the explosion, a single point at the center of a small intersection. And you were caught in this blast. You were lucky, oh so lucky, to be spared the worst, but you knew that someone had been up there. In the back of your head you remember silhouettes standing, walking right where that explosion had suddenly begun. You had heard a horrifying scream, too.
Pain clung and scratched at your body. Part of your clothes had been either scorched or torn off. Your skin was burned red, your hair singed from the blast. Shrapnel had embedded itself in you, and you felt a warm liquid dripping over your body.
Your back ached, but you manage to bend up slightly and look back at the sight of the explosion. There, in the midst of the flames, standing in a crater, water spewing up around it, a street light collapsing onto it, stood a silver man, the fire shining and reflecting off of his surface and casting a sinister red glow onto him. It was crouched, but then it stood and looked around. Looking . . . for what? Survivors? You groan in pain. The silver man then spots you.
And then he starts stepping towards you.
But then something snaps in you. You stand up, suddenly in a little less pain. You feel . . . almost . . . powerful? You can't explain it. But suddenly, miraculously, you feel incredibly brave.
You feel alive.
. . . to, er, well-
Heroes is, as the name suggests, a superhero roleplay. It will be fairly action-heavy, and you can do some fun-stuff in it. It will be character-driven, and I want you, the players, to, at all times, try to affect the outcome of the roleplay and manipulate plot and such. This is a work-in-progress universe and I'm willing to let a lot of stuff slide. In fact, have some music, on the house, fitting with the universe.
(Specifically the part about good being bad and black being white, and, of course anything goes)
In this roleplay, there will be many opportunities to affect the outcome of things and change the world around you. I will try my hardest to make everything you do have some impact on the world, or some repercussion or consequence. If you have any suggestions, by all means, give me them.
The world in this roleplay is, as the prelude stated, taking place in Chicago in 2033, and the world is in pretty darn rough shape. But fortunately, they have famous superheroes to keep them relatively safe. And those superheroes - are you. That's right, you will play the superheroes. Duh. Superpowers are rare, but a common-knowledge. When the roleplay starts, you will play as a new superhero. You just figured out you have powers - or maybe you didn't. I don't know. I can't control that part. But what I can control is that you will start in one of the three scenarios I laid out for you as "choices."
. . . starts you off in one of the six skyscrapers in the supercomplex of Beige Towers, known popularly as Smog Towers. You have been kidnapped by Doctor Beige, and you are one of 30302 prisoners that he is going to experiment on. When the roleplay starts, you may choose to fight the experimentation, maybe try to escape? Or, you may perhaps allow yourself to be experimented on?
. . . starts you off in a secret compound, a facility where some mysterious, large, Scandinavian man keeps all of his prisoners, who, from what you gather, may all have superpowers, considering he is visiting you with the intention to steal your superpowers. Will you try and fight back against this powerful man, or perhaps let him steal your superpowers? (don't do that. that's dumb)
. . . starts you off as an ordinary person walking down the street in late-night Chicago when suddenly an explosion blasts you off your fight. When you look at the scene of the explosion, you see a metal man, but suddenly you have superpowers. Will you fight the metal man, or run away? (like the coward you are)
After this roleplay starts and the starting choices are resolved, you will all meet up together with the big superhero team. Then you will go save the world and stuff. Sounds like fun, right? Keep in mind that I will probably not kill you, but I will punish you if you make a stupid decision or do something evil. We are heroes, remember? So no evil characters. Also note that if you choose to, say, have magnetic powers, the first two scenarios are altered in such a way that the rooms will be made of plastic, rather than steel so you can't just, like, crush the supervillains just like that. What would be the fun in that?
So, to recap:
In this roleplay, you play a frakking superhero. Isn't that awesome?
In this roleplay, we will do awesome stuff. I'm not gonna reveal a whole lot, but there will be fights and stuff, and there are three main supervillains. coughTHREECHOICEScough
In this roleplay, you're a part of a superhero team. It has many members, and it fights crime and those aforementioned three main supervillains.
In the world of this roleplay, these superheroes are famous, and superpowers, while rare, are common knowledge. Marvel and DC and all other things superheroes are just comicbooks and/or movies, like in this universe. So basically, it's this universe, but in 2033, and suddenly superpowers are real.
As an extra bit of knowledge: the superheroes have befriended a millionaire named Dominick Tross. He's no genius, and he is more of a couch potato. He has no skills with the ladies, and he is anything but cool, but he is the CEO of a massive multibillion dollar tech company called Cross Industries, so he's somewhat useful. The superheroes get there equipment from him, along with rides in his jets and a cool new substance Tross named unfortunately "Superdex." Like spandex, only super. It can enhance superpowers slightly. Expensive, but very comfy and close to bulletproof.
Also note that you have HP that I will calculate by taking your age, dividing it by two, adding your strength multiplied by two, and then subtracting one point for every point you have below five in willpower. So, 16 divided by two = 8 + 10 x 2 = 28 - 4 = 24. This character would be sixteen, have 10 strength and have 1 willpower. I'm stealing Burger's stats for this example.
There's not really much else to tell. If you have any questions just ask.
And here is a-la sign-up:
- Secret Identity -
Name: This bit should be fairly self-explanatory. Feel free to be a little silly and cliche (comic-book style) with your name, though.
Age: You can really be any age you want, although probably don't be below sixteen or above seventy.
Gender: Male, female, basically.
Nationality: Do you hail from America? Or are you form across the pond?
Appearance: A picture speaks a thousand words, but if you're feeling confident enough that you can give me a good enough image of your character using just words, feel free, but pictures are always nice.
Personality: Are you funny? Narcissistic? Nice? Mean? Rude? A jerk? Sarcastic?
Biography: Doesn't have to be too long. A few paragraphs is nice. Quality over quantity.
- Superhero Identity -
Name: Feel free to get really creative with the name here. This is your Superhero name. Make it something cool. You don't want a person you're saving going, "oh hey look, it's Pantsman here to save the day!"
Appearance: A picture is always nice, but it's definitely more acceptable to use words here if you must. Or you could always draw you're own.
Reputation: Are you known for saving the day? Being ruthless? Being merciful? Where do you stand on the moral compass? This will affect how the public sees you.
Primary Power: This is your most powerful superpower, the one you use most often and the most effective in battle and the one you are most comfortable with. It should be more powerful than the others.
Secondary Power: This is your second power. It should be less powerful and perhaps even more situational, but still related to your main power. You don't want your main power to be ice and your second to be fire. Well. You may want that, but I won't allow it.
Tertiary Power: This is your third and final power, and it is definitely optional. It should be very situational and not very powerful, but still related to your other powers.
Weakness: This is your weakness, the one thing that really gets you in battle. It by no means has to be the opposite of your power (i.e. Power: Fire, Weakness: Ice/Water) and you can totally get creative. Maybe it's something that effected your hero earlier in his life?
Gadgets: Completely optional, but do you have any cool gadgets or weapons that you designed yourself, perhaps? Or that Dominick Tross gave you? (Dominick Tross is essentially the Tony Stark of our Avengers)
Choice: This is the one of the three choices you chose. Put either 1, 2, or 3. It affects the start of the game.
- Stats - these are your stats. They may affect your rolls. You have 40 points to allot. Your highest possible is 10, your lowest possible is 1. Also feel free to give a quick explanation as to why your stat is that way. In fact, that is preferred.
Strength: Lifting boulders, pulling cars off of innocents, stopping trains. Classic superhero stuff.
Dexterity: Dodging bullets, landing difficult punches - speedster stuff.
Intelligence: Making good decisions, creating super-mutative serums, that sort of mastermind evil scientist villainous stuff.
Willpower: Your mental ability to take a beating. Classic heroic "I can make it!" and "I can't give in!" stuff.
Perception: Spotting the stuff no one else does, putting two and two together. The observant thing.
Charisma: Ladies. I joke. This one has more to do with just how good your personality is. How easy it is for you to talk your way out of stuff, or lie, or charm people.
Luck: Have you won the lottery? Or have you been mugged thrice every week for the last five months of your life? This may determine the outcome of a few rolls.
Additional Notes/Other: Anything that doesn't fit under the given categories that you want to add. If it's a blatant missing thing, I'll add a category for it.
- Secret Identity -
Name: Daniel Knight
Personality: A bit of a jerk, but nonetheless Daniel is a
stubborn, honor-bound, duteous leader of the hero team presiding over Chicago. Daniel will do the right thing, even if it means making the hard choice, sometimes even if it's a merciless one.
When Daniel was a kid he didn't have much in common with the other kids. He was more of a bully than a social butterfly. But he did make friends. One in particular was Alexis Sky, a cute girl with good tastes and a sense of humor. And she changed Daniel.
And years down the road, they're both superheroes and fighting to save Chicago. Oh, and they're dating.
When Daniel was a teenager, after moving around and changing schools many times, and being lectured for bullying and even going to prison once, he started dating Alexis. They broke up in his twenties, but when he was in his late twenties, they got back together, but then he and her were in a freak accident. A massive explosion that killed dozens of people. They alone survived. And they had superpowers.
They went on to form the Chicago superhero team, to fight crime and the newly appeared supervillains. At one point, Daniel had a close encounter with one of them, and his mind was melded with him. The two are now partially telepathic to each other, but as a downside any extreme pain one feels goes to the other, and Daniel was severely injured and seriously mentally traumatized.
- Superhero Identity -
A thick black trenchcoat over a red and black superdex suit, with a flame symbol emblazoned onto the chest of the bulletproof vest he wore over that. He also wears various other pieces of armor all over such as kneepads, gloves, elbow pads, pauldrons, vambraces, and boots.
Reputation: Doom is known for being the leader of the hero team presiding over Chicago. He is seen by the public as powerful and selfless.
Primary Power: Manipulating and creating fire
Secondary Power: Super-strength
Tertiary Power: Transforming his skin into a tough, hot, magma-like, rocky substance
Weakness: Mental strain; Daniel once fought with a supervillain and suffered immense mental pain. Also, the obvious: water and ice.
Gadgets: An earpiece to communicate with his team, as well as high-tech shades that enhance his natural near-sighted vision which is, in itself, a reflection of his personality in the way he goes about accomplishing his goals.
Choice: 3; several years ago, Daniel was in a situation much like that in 3. These mysterious explosions keep occurring, and each time, a new superhero emerges.
- Stats -
Strength: 10 - Daniel works out, and, of course, has super-strength
Dexterity: 7 - Weeks in front of a punching bag have made Daniel more than capable of landing a punch
Intelligence: 5 - Daniel wasn't always the brightest, but he's no dimwit
Willpower: 4 - Daniel had that mental encounter with a supervillain a while back, and he hasn't been the same since
Perception: 4 - Daniel suffers from near-sightedness
Charisma: 6 - Daniel is darn good with the ladies, and, come on, he's kind of attractive
Luck: 4 - Daniel hasn't really ever had good luck
Additional Notes/Other: Daniel really likes to punch stuff
- Secret Identity -
- Superhero Identity -
- Stats -
[b]- Secret Identity -[/b] [b]Name:[/b] [b]Age:[/b] [b]Gender:[/b] [b]Nationality:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] [b]Personality:[/b] [b]Biography:[/b] [b]- Superhero Identity -[/b] [b]Name:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] [b]Reputation:[/b] [b]Primary Power:[/b] [b]Secondary Power:[/b] [b]Tertiary Power:[/b] [b]Weakness:[/b] [b]Gadgets:[/b] [b]Choice:[/b] [b]- Stats -[/b] [b]Strength:[/b] [b]Dexterity:[/b] [b]Intelligence:[/b] [b]Willpower:[/b] [b]Perception:[/b] [b]Charisma:[/b] [b]Luck:[/b] [b]Additional Notes/Other:[/b]
As of the start of the roleplay:
- Roster -
Burger Warrior as Polly Weitz, AKA Gigakeita! the giantess - 24 HP
ReaperMan290 as Nathaniel Novak, AKA Vigil! the insane one - 26 HP
Doctor Grant as Felicia Cutter, AKA Velocia! the human dinosaur - 31 HP
V. Metalic as Kira Dietrich, AKA Night Cobra! the . . . um, dextrous person with really good eyesight - 21 HP
GhostlyCheese as Ashton Ishida, AKA White Owl! the cocky nocturnal fellow - 16 HP
Hurricane as Marc Lisa, AKA Haze! the cybernetically-enhanced supersoldier who technically doesn't exist - 25 HP
DragonJedi as Nathan Castellan, AKA Static! the electric British dude - 23 HP
As of now:
Helltrooper Tally: 32/300 + evil grandmaster hell-lord of doom and stuff (Sep)
- Roster -
Burger Warrior as Polly Weitz, AKA Gigakeita! the teenage giantess with RAGERAGERAGE (her bf bit the dust) - 9/24 HP
ReaperMan290 as Nathaniel Novak, AKA Vigil! the insane, schizophrenic lightning demi-god (he got nerfed in the last patch) - 17/26 HP
Doctor Grant as Felicia Cutter, AKA Velocia! the were-dinosaur-vampire-dragon - 19/31 HP
V. Metalic as Kira Dietrich, AKA Night Cobra! the dexterous chick with really good eyesight and maybe more? - 18/21 HP
GhostlyCheese as Ashton Ishida, AKA White Owl! the Anime Asian with an early-life crisis and a love for comics - DECEASED: explosion outta nowhere (that's you all over).
Hurricane as Marc Lisa, AKA Haze! the enhanced supersoldier who technically doesn't exist and is Über-paranoid, usually pretty weak comparatively but he's getting buffed next patch - 24/25 HP
DragonJedi as Nathan Castellan, AKA Static! the electric British dude - DECEASED due to inactivity: gunned down by Beige's riot officers, powers rudely stolen by novak and then Beige (whattaday).
Neyo Wargear as Ansgar Forsberg, AKA Drawster! the discharged veteran (also artist) with a pet shark-dog AND HIS THREE DOZEN PUPS- 17/20 HP: KILL ROY. KILL ROY. KILL ROY. kill roy.
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