Lord Bradley

Well... Shadow of Mordor it was, I believe... As the Main Character... That means I'm Talion, who's dead, but is possessed by a spirit, and literally cannot die cause he keeps respawning, lorewise. Welp, I'll be kicking some Uruk-Hai butts! As an NPC, I would be an Uruk. Only a matter of time before I find a sword running through my throat

... What's the difference? Counts as both answer and question, thank ye

Honestly... Yes. I won't go into details, since they are unneccesary, but either way, my answer is yes. You can only wear One colour of clothing for the rest of your life. What colour do you choose?

(By the by, just to clarify, What Drakk did to Frank was not Subjugation, but a simple "mind illusion" of sorts. If 'Frank' had taken a moment to actually think about who Drakk was, the 'illusion' would've faded. Now, if Drakk had subjugated the poor fella, he would be a puppet, completely and utterly. His mind would've vanished for the duration of the subjugation, and if Drakk told him to walk into a pool of magma, he would without a single thought. Of course, if Drakk had done this, he would've had to go through one of those headaches. You know which ones I'm talking about.) @@Dapper Charmer, @@crispy fries, @@Drago Ryder, A groan of pain sounded out as Drakk weakly pushed the rubble off of him. One moment, he was watching the stairs like a hawk, and the next, an explosion sounded out and caved most of the basement in. Fortunately, he hadn't been that injured, seeing as only a small pile of rubble collided with his head. Now... The same couldn't been said for Frank. He was crushed. Literally. A huge part of the roof had crushed his insides, splattering blood and organs everywhere. His eyes were closed, and even more blood was pouring of his mouth. Slowly walking over to the corpse, Drakk noticed that the rifle was miraculously undamaged. Well... At the very least, it was usable for the time being. Then, he heard the police yelling. Frightened at being a sitting duck, Drakk grabbed the rifle, and sneaked off to hide behind a pile of rubble, completely hiding him from sight from above, and infront of him. Now, he was just gonna wait here, hope that nobody would come behind here and see him, and figure that he ran away or something. Drakk's eyes widened as he realized that he left behind a certain backpack with a certain head.

@@Dapper Charmer, Drakk panted as he ran more than the amount that was recommended for one in his position, but he had to get away from the scene, lest those pesky 'Psychic cops' or whatever they were found him. He had heard some sirens after a minute of running, but he was long gone by now. Slowing down to catch his breath, he layed back against a wall in the alleyway he was positioned in, panting like he had just ran the hundred-mile marathon. Shaking his head, he checked out his surroundings. Not much around, except a dumpster and a back-door into some building. He sighed with a slight bit of happiness. Even if the pills only slowed his degrading health, he still felt young again. Though, he also felt like he was aging a year for every hour. He shrugged, pushing himself off the wall and walking towards the door. "You're being watched" Drake uttered, stopping Drakk right in his tracks. He didn't look behind him, just pulled out his newly-acquired handgun and casually walked over to the door, opening it, stepping inside, and closing it behind him. "Hey, who are yo-" A voice said behind him, to which he turned to and projected but a single thought. I am your friend, and your lifelong companion. Protect me like a brother. Immediately, the tan man wearing a black shirt and some sweat-pants, relaxed in Drakk's presence and walked up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, man, how you've been? I honestly can't remember the last time I've seen you!" The man proclaimed in a gruff voice, directed at the man in the trench-coat. Drakk nodded at the stranger. "I am fine, friend, but I am being stalked. Can you help me defend myself?" He told the tan guy, faking desperation and trust in his voice, while wearing a grim frown. It seemed to fool the stranger, in anycase, who nodded to Drakk and walked over to a room without a door, gesturing for his 'friend' to follow. Soon enough, Drakk was handed a revolver,-to which he declined, thanks to the handgun-, while the stranger took some sort of rifle. The room they were in was in the basement, with no other way in or out besides the stairs they used to come down. They had taken different positions, Drakk behind a pillar in the middle of the basement, while the Stranger hid behind a flipped table to his 'friends' left. "Don't worry, man. I will protect you from all harm or my name isn't Frank!" 'Frank' told him, his rifle aimed at the stairs. In Drakk's eyes, he was behind a pillar, peeking from behind it to right ahead, which harbored the stairs which led to both the exit and the entry. He had his gun trained on the position, ready to shoot whoever dared to stalk him... "Ya know, I've got a feeling that this 'Frank' wont last very long" Drakk muttered in his backpack, to which Drakk snorted at.

7/10, I do suppose. Excuse me, but... Text? I don't use any text.

Heck yea! Havin' my big sis' ()up there would be wonderous, aswell as probably productive! I'd, uh... Probably be quite inadequate at moderating. I'm not reaaly the greatest "guard", honestly

No objections here! They seem like a pretty cool person, so I wouldn't mind them on the golden throne ^-^

8/10 Nice new look! From Tigers, to Ents, to Wastelanders riding Tigers, to Kelthuzad's turned-to-stone cousin!

17

Banned since I want to stop the Unbannening from happening... *Shudder*

Gnome Eradicator.

The ability to breathe in water would be wasted on me, since I'm deadly scared of the creatures lurking there(Especially if I find Randimaxis lurking around in there), so it's safe to say that Flight is the better option How do you feel when a friend/family member 'O yours "Bails" on you?

AuraEquineXClutterstep

*Click*...*Creeeeeeaak* Drakk flinched at the sound of the rotten door giving of a wheeze of agony as he pushed it open. Waiting for a few moments to determine if anyone had heard on it, he stuffed the lockpick and knife he used to unlock the rotten door into one of his trenchcoat's pouches, since he didn't want to just kick it down and have the entire building alerted to his presence. Or maybe he just didn't have the strength to. Crouching down, he slowly moved into the home of the one he had spied on for the last hour through a giant hole in the opposite warehouse. Said owner had just left the building, giving Drakk his cue to enter and start his hunt. Looking around the surprisingly well-kept grey room, he noticed a door to his left, stairs right infront of him, and some sort of bar to his right. "Sweet. Been awhile since I've had anything alcoholic" He thought to himself happily as he moved towards the bar, hopping the empty counter to be situated right in the middle, a variety of different wines on the shelves infront of him. Taking two bottles of which caught his fancy, he stuffed them in a fairly huge pouch on the right of the trenchcoat, having only the necks sticking out. Done with that, he moved to the door left of the entrance, opened it without any difficulty, and peeked his head through. Immediately, he forced his head backwards as he caught sight of someone with a gun. One of those old six-barrelled handguns, he thinks. They were invented somewhere around fifty years ago, though never became that popular to begin with, due to the ammo-inefficency, coupled with the fact that a shotgun would just be straight-up better to use. He sighed. "What now?" He asked himself mentally as he thought of a way to get the... Guard? Out of the way. Controlling them would be inconvienent, he had no use for subjugating them at the moment, and he couldn't exactly get them to move anywhere considering that it was only one room... "Guess that leaves killin' em." He concluded as he once again poked his head out of the door, just enough to see the guard, but not enough that the guard could spot him, seeing as he was preoccupied with some sort of medallion. "Could fetch a nice price." He mused as he focused on the guard, and projected a single thought. You aren't worth anything. End it. Stop the suffering. Almost immediately, the guard's expression turned grim, and sorrowful. With a glance at the gun in his hand, he shakingly brought it up to his temple. He closed his eyes, and- *Bang*, it sounded as 6 bullets flew off into the grey matter inside his head and shredded it. Blood exploded onto the wall opposite of the gun's barrels, as the corpse fell onto the ground with a soft *thud*. Drakk slapped his forehead as he realized that the gun would've made sound, definitely alerting his presence to everyone in the nearby vicinity. "Not much time, now." He said out loud as he rushed into the room, not caring for how it looked, but what it carried. Spotting some jewelry on a table, mostly rings and some necklaces, he grabbed them and stuffed them into one of his pouches. Once that was done, he hurried to the body and looked it over, searching for valuables. Taking the gun and putting it into a pocket, so it was more easily reachable, he also reached for the medallion he saw earlier. He realized it was actually a locket, he opened it to see what was inside. A picture of the guard he just murdered, carrying a woman in his arms. The guy had a suit on, while the woman had a white wedding gown... "... Guranteed to fetch a nice price. This thing has Titanium inside of it!" He thought happily to himself, putting the locket into one of his pouches, aswell as grabbing some ring on the corpses ring-inger, afterwards going to another door. Opening this one, it seemed to be a bathroom. Going up to the mirror, he flipped it around, revealing one of those cabinet things. Inside, he found a toothbrush, some pins, a hairbrush, and... "Jackpot!" He muttered with wide eyés as he saw the pill bottle, specifically the medicine he had been told helps hold back the defects. Granted, this meant that another 'Psychic' resided in this building, but he could go on with the faint hope that he wouldn't meet them. Opening the bottle, he flipped it around to spit it's wonderful contents into his left hand... And 4 pills fell out. 4. That meant 2-3 days, of respite, but not nearly enough of what he had wanted. Shrugging, he popped a pill into his mouth, swallowing it, and put the rest back into the bottle, which he stuffed into one of his pouches. "And now, time to leave!" He thought, just before he started running as well as he could in his condition, right out of the building, into the streets, and got himself lost in some alleyways. Unbeknownst to him, a woman had watched his escape on some stairs next to a bar, and was now wallowing in sorrow and despair next to a corpse that is-... Was, her husband...

Group? Well, This is the only fandom I'm part off, and outside of my group of friends, I'm not really in any sort of group. Eh... Don't have one. Too many amazing artists that I know of, some of which reside in these forums, to be able to pick a favourite. What do you think of fish?(Both the pet kind and the food kind)

Well Cooked This should be pretty accurate. If you had a pet, would you possibly have the heart to kill and eat it in a survival situation?

They... They look really, really of... I like it! 7.8/10

His head twitched as he laid down on the dirtied mattress, it's former colour tainted into a sickly yellow. Eyes staring out the nearby window, he watched the weary buildings standing tall, even with all the destruction and filth littering the streets and their walls. "I don't even know why we keep staying here, Drake" He said out loud, his eyes unmoving from the cracked window. "Why do we never leave this place? Move into one of the wealthier districts, find better quality medicine and food. I can feel my bones grow more tired and unwilling to move with every passing day, Drake... Why can't we just submit to that damned goverment? I'm tired of fending for ourselves, having to hunt every single building each day and night, looking for that godforsaken medicine that I'm not even sure works anymore." The man in the brown trench-coat ranted, this time moving his bloodshot, green eyes towards the disembodied head of a boy. The head síghed, looking towards his life-long friend and companion with dull, blue eyes. He keeps saying this every week, and Drake just has to remind him again. "You know why, Drakk. We do this since it's our ónly hope of survival. If we turn ourselves in, we lose our freedom. They are gonna control our lives, Drakk, like puppets!" Both of them completely ignored the fact that Drakk does that on a regular basis. "We can survive like this, we've done it for years. We stayed here cause it's the least likely place for them to find us. Plus, it's the closest location to the market, which grants us a steady supply of meds as long as we get jewelry and the like. All we need now for a good life is one of those 'regulator' thingies that those slavers use to balance our power, and then we're right as rain!" The head justified, it's dead, dry hair clinging on to the dry-as-bone skin. Drakk sighed. He knew Drake was right. As much as he didn't want to keep coughing up blood and get closer to death every day, essentially selling your soul to be used as a tool was much worse. Besides, once they found a better income of better meds and one of those 'regulators', everything would be much better off. He noticed a slight pain in his chest, groaned in both pain and annoyance, and slowly got off the dirty mattress. Searching through the room with run-down walls and broken planks in the roof and floor, he grabbed a backpack and settled them it around his shoulders. It weighed about as much as a dozen pillows, so it was obvious that he was running out of supplies. Checking through the room once more, he readied himself for the venture outside, preparing for the scavenging and stealing that was about to come. "Well, atleast my sanity is still stable!" He cheerfully thought to himself as he grabbed the disembodied head of a child and stuffed it into the backpack.

Well then... I suppose that he will have to steal the little meds he can get his hooves on, or he can get others' hooves on, and then buy the low-medium quality he can get from a black market with the money/valuables he steals. Not that good of a position, but both Drakk and I don't like working for a government, especially if it essentially makes us slaves, so I want to avoid that in whatever way I can. Though... It may be that further down the line, He's forced to work for the government, if he doesn't want to lose what little sanity is left and crumble away... Ya know, I think I might take that route. Also, that list would be appreciated. I'm not really that great at coming up with physical health defects.

Alright, thanks for clarifying the setting. The Drake thing... You know, the dragon is dead. He's not alive anymore, and he's bitten the dust. It's simply Drakk's mind who latches onto the faint hope that he's up and kicking, even dragging around the dried up head to speak to at times. From his perspective, the Drake speaks back. From literally anyone else? He's speaking to the dead head of a dragon. Though... Did you mean that Dragons don't exist in this universe? If so, I'll just make it a kids head, then. The meds thing... Is it not possible to steal what he needs? Obviously, he won't get what he needs every single time, but it's better than dying. And obviously, he's going mad, if not already. As for the deteriorating health, can ye add a suggestion? I'm kind of running short of physical health problems.

@@Buck Testa, Well, this is certainly interesting. I would like to join in, if possible, though I would like to mention that I'm a slow writer. Name: Drakk Moonshine. Age: Middle-Adult. Psychic Tier: 2. Psychic Power: The ability to affect/influence, control and subjugate the minds of others, bending them to his will and being reduced to mere puppets under his command in the latter cases. The former essentially means that he can either blind the victim to his presence through making their mind ignore him in every way possible, influence their actions and thought process by implanting a figurative seed, or strenghten/weaken their will to continue and live on. Infuencing others' minds is no problem for him, as long as it's a simple action, like placing a single thought into their minds. Controlling and Subjugating, however, requires him to have a 100% focus on the victim in the former case, leaving his body vulnerable and out of his reach as long as he is controlling the victim. The latter only leaves him dazed for the moment and with a small headache that lasts for the duration of the subjugation. He can subjugate several creatures/sentient beings at once, though his headache doubles with each addition. If he is interrupted during the control of the victim, every single cell in his body will start yelling in agony. In other words, Pain. Lots of Pain. If he somehow fails to control/subjugate a creature/sentient being, he will be dazed while the former victim will be fully aware of his location. Health defects: Surprisingly, most of his health problems are mostly mental and moral, except a "simple" defect with his lungs, in which case sometimes even leaves him gasping for air and spitting up blood if he doesn't use the right medicine in time.. Some examples of his mental/moral struggles include, but not limited to: -Talking to his young draconic friend(Who perished years ago) while carrying the drake's dried-up head in a saddlebag. -His moral compass cannot differentiate between Good and Evil except when someone has wronged/helped him in the past or present. -Occasionally, he suffers a mental breakdown which could occur during any given moment, in which he either goes berserk, becomes paranoid enough to even not trust his closest friends with a toothpick, or curls up and has himself a cry that could go on for hours. These are not all of them. More will reveal themselves when I get ideas. Job: He refuses to work for anyone but himself, and those he trusts. So, he resorts to stealing and scavenging whatever he needs and desires, using his psychic Mind-Manipulation to his advantage. Of course, sometimes, he can't find everything he needs for his continued survival, but he makes due from the items he "procures" from the homes of random citizens, broken-down and ruined buildings, aswell as the corpses of those he commands to "End it". That good? More stuff that could potentially be useful(Maybe not, since this is in an alternate universe) are in the link located in my signature. Also, in what setting is this RP? Wasteland, Futuristic, Modern?

I don't think I have, actually. Well, in that case, It's a pleasure to make yer acquintance!

Somewhen in the past 50 seconds. Could you see yourself hunting artifacts in ancient temples with traps and lizardmen?

8.9/10 should be fine