Rathound - Revision history

BrightMorningSnow: Removed category template

2024-10-08T22:28:03Z

Removed category template

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DiscoGoblin: /* Background */

2024-08-02T08:26:06Z

Background

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:26, 2 August 2024
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	==Background==		==Background==

	Bang. A door swings violently open, dented by the impact of a steel-toed boot. Rathound steps into a boarded up gas station, cast in shades of monochrome by the ash storm raging outside. Mt. Rainier’s fury whips against the walls with the sound of a million chittering bugs, while the building’s former tenant- a half-mummified squatter- sleeps soundly on a putrid mattress, surrounded by empty inhalers. Once, the Loup Garou made his home in the beautiful old growth forests of France. Now, he’s grateful to have a soft bed as he kicks the desiccated body aside.		[Currently editing in a separate doc]

	That night Rathound dreams of carefree hunts in the halcyon days of his youth. He and his pack are daring revolutionaries, cut down mortal sheep by the dozens for daring to spread their filth into the earth. They brush off the warnings of older infected as the baying of tired old men. Then the boot comes down, swift and decisive. Hunters set the forest ablaze, driving the loup garou into a minefield and gunning them down as they try to escape. Some stay and fight, to be hacked apart by soldiers with wolfsbane coated swords. Those who flee east don't fare much better, dying like flies on their way into exile. Soon Rathound finds himself trudging- alone- through the blighted wastes of the SOX. It is there amidst the ruin of promised futures that he sees a human kneeling in the mud, tear tracks streaking through the grime on his face.

	What’s with the tears, Rathound asks. The man hardly seems to notice him, instead speaking into the air as if he's conversing with the wasteland itself. It’s because we're stuck between worlds, you and I, no longer able to live in the old and yet tragically unprepared for the new. I want us to finally break from those shackles which bind us to the will of the gods. He finally looks at the Loup Garou. Do you understand? Rathound nods, and he thinks: this old fool's cracked. He also thinks he has nothing to lose, so he offers to guide the human to his home while planning to kill him and take all his stuff. For the second time now he underestimates mortals, and for the second time he walks into a trap. The man- a powerful toxic mage- imprisons the garou in a long-dead reactor. They tell him that he will be gifted a body that suits the future he's brought on himself. Irradiated spirits dance in the rafters as white hot metal begins to split flesh. Years of maddening imprisonment fly by before Rathound awakes with a start.

	He comes to atop the clawed-apart ruins of the mattress, drenched in sweat, blood pounding in his ears. He can feel the implants chewing holes in his essence, and it's all he can do to not rip them out. He checks his surroundings- the storm has passed, moonbeams poking through the boarded up windows. He is not a prisoner; he is free, and they will never take him back. Here on the other side of the world he'll find the means to reverse what they've done. He'll build a new life for himself in the sprawl, and wreak vengeance on the ones who defiled him so. He throws on his jacket, hops on his dirtbike, and guns the throttle like a man possessed, cutting through the ash like a field of fresh snow on his way towards the glittering skyline.

	== Narrative Significant Qualities ==		== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

DiscoGoblin: /* Background */

2024-08-02T06:13:13Z

Background

← Older revision		Revision as of 06:13, 2 August 2024
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	Bang. A door swings violently open, dented by the impact of a steel-toed boot. Rathound steps into a boarded up gas station, cast in shades of monochrome by the ash storm raging outside. Mt. Rainier’s fury whips against the walls with the sound of a million chittering bugs, while the building’s former tenant- a half-mummified squatter- sleeps soundly on a putrid mattress, surrounded by empty inhalers. Once, the Loup Garou made his home in the beautiful old growth forests of France. Now, he’s grateful to have a soft bed as he kicks the desiccated body aside.		Bang. A door swings violently open, dented by the impact of a steel-toed boot. Rathound steps into a boarded up gas station, cast in shades of monochrome by the ash storm raging outside. Mt. Rainier’s fury whips against the walls with the sound of a million chittering bugs, while the building’s former tenant- a half-mummified squatter- sleeps soundly on a putrid mattress, surrounded by empty inhalers. Once, the Loup Garou made his home in the beautiful old growth forests of France. Now, he’s grateful to have a soft bed as he kicks the desiccated body aside.

	That night Rathound dreams of carefree hunts in the halcyon days of his youth~~; him~~ and his pack, ~~arrogant and bold, cutting~~ down mortal sheep by the dozens. ~~The other~~ infected~~- cowards that they are- bitch and moan about preserving their~~ old ~~order, but Rathound is reveling in newfound godhood and knows that he is the future~~. Then the boot comes down, swift and decisive. Hunters set the forest ablaze, driving the loup garou into a minefield and gunning them down as they try to escape. Some stay and fight, to be hacked apart by soldiers with wolfsbane coated swords. Those who flee east don't fare much better, dying like flies on their way into exile. Soon Rathound finds himself trudging- alone- through the blighted wastes of the SOX. It is there amidst the ruin of promised futures that he sees a human kneeling in the mud, tear tracks streaking through the grime on his face.		That night Rathound dreams of carefree hunts in the halcyon days of his youth. He and his pack are daring revolutionaries, cut down mortal sheep by the dozens for daring to spread their filth into the earth. They brush off the warnings of older infected as the baying of tired old men. Then the boot comes down, swift and decisive. Hunters set the forest ablaze, driving the loup garou into a minefield and gunning them down as they try to escape. Some stay and fight, to be hacked apart by soldiers with wolfsbane coated swords. Those who flee east don't fare much better, dying like flies on their way into exile. Soon Rathound finds himself trudging- alone- through the blighted wastes of the SOX. It is there amidst the ruin of promised futures that he sees a human kneeling in the mud, tear tracks streaking through the grime on his face.

	What’s with the tears, Rathound asks. The man hardly seems to notice him, instead speaking into the air as if he's conversing with the wasteland itself. It’s because we're stuck between worlds, you and I, no longer able to live in the old and yet tragically unprepared for the new. I want us to finally break from those shackles which bind us to the will of the gods. He finally looks at the Loup Garou. Do you understand? Rathound nods, and he thinks: this old fool's cracked. He also thinks he has nothing to lose, so he offers to guide the human to his home while planning to kill him and take all his stuff. For the second time now he underestimates mortals, and for the second time he walks into a trap. The man- a powerful toxic mage- imprisons the garou in a long-dead reactor. They tell him that he will be gifted a body that suits the future he's brought on himself. Irradiated spirits dance in the rafters as white hot metal begins to split flesh. Years of maddening imprisonment fly by before Rathound awakes with a start.		What’s with the tears, Rathound asks. The man hardly seems to notice him, instead speaking into the air as if he's conversing with the wasteland itself. It’s because we're stuck between worlds, you and I, no longer able to live in the old and yet tragically unprepared for the new. I want us to finally break from those shackles which bind us to the will of the gods. He finally looks at the Loup Garou. Do you understand? Rathound nods, and he thinks: this old fool's cracked. He also thinks he has nothing to lose, so he offers to guide the human to his home while planning to kill him and take all his stuff. For the second time now he underestimates mortals, and for the second time he walks into a trap. The man- a powerful toxic mage- imprisons the garou in a long-dead reactor. They tell him that he will be gifted a body that suits the future he's brought on himself. Irradiated spirits dance in the rafters as white hot metal begins to split flesh. Years of maddening imprisonment fly by before Rathound awakes with a start.

DiscoGoblin at 05:55, 2 August 2024

2024-08-02T05:55:27Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 05:55, 2 August 2024
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	\|title = {{PAGENAME}} <!-- Do not change this!!! It is supposed to say PAGENAME, the wiki will automatically replace this. -->		\|title = {{PAGENAME}} <!-- Do not change this!!! It is supposed to say PAGENAME, the wiki will automatically replace this. -->
	\|image= [[File:Rathound.jpg\|300px]] <!-- You can change the filename to whatever you like, and upload a picture of your character to be displayed on the wiki. -->		\|image= [[File:Rathound.jpg\|300px]] <!-- You can change the filename to whatever you like, and upload a picture of your character to be displayed on the wiki. -->
	\|header1= Loup Garou ~~Biosam~~		\|header1= Loup Garou Frankenstein
	\|header2= Wasteland Werewolf		\|header2= Wasteland Werewolf
	\|header3= Slightly Radioactive		\|header3= Slightly Radioactive

DiscoGoblin: /* Background */

2024-08-02T02:22:29Z

Background

← Older revision		Revision as of 02:22, 2 August 2024
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	Bang. A door swings violently open, dented by the impact of a steel-toed boot. Rathound steps into a boarded up gas station, cast in shades of monochrome by the ash storm raging outside. Mt. Rainier’s fury whips against the walls with the sound of a million chittering bugs, while the building’s former tenant- a half-mummified squatter- sleeps soundly on a putrid mattress, surrounded by empty inhalers. Once, the Loup Garou made his home in the beautiful old growth forests of France. Now, he’s grateful to have a soft bed as he kicks the desiccated body aside.		Bang. A door swings violently open, dented by the impact of a steel-toed boot. Rathound steps into a boarded up gas station, cast in shades of monochrome by the ash storm raging outside. Mt. Rainier’s fury whips against the walls with the sound of a million chittering bugs, while the building’s former tenant- a half-mummified squatter- sleeps soundly on a putrid mattress, surrounded by empty inhalers. Once, the Loup Garou made his home in the beautiful old growth forests of France. Now, he’s grateful to have a soft bed as he kicks the desiccated body aside.

	That night Rathound dreams of carefree hunts in the halcyon days of his youth~~. It is~~ him and his pack ~~against humanity~~, ~~the last true defenders of the earth;~~ arrogant and ~~cruel in equal measure as they cut through legions of the~~ mortal sheep. The other infected- cowards that they are- bitch and moan about ~~the~~ old order, but Rathound is reveling in newfound godhood and knows that he is the future. Then the boot comes down, decisive. ~~Teams of mortal hunters~~ set the forest ablaze, driving the loup garou into a minefield and gunning them down as they try to escape. Some stay and fight, to be hacked apart by soldiers with wolfsbane coated swords. Those who flee east don't fare much better, dying like flies on their way into exile. Soon Rathound finds himself trudging- alone- through the blighted wastes of the SOX. It is there amidst the ruin of promised futures that he sees a human kneeling in the mud, tear tracks streaking through the grime on his face.		That night Rathound dreams of carefree hunts in the halcyon days of his youth; him and his pack, arrogant and bold, cutting down mortal sheep by the dozens. The other infected- cowards that they are- bitch and moan about preserving their old order, but Rathound is reveling in newfound godhood and knows that he is the future. Then the boot comes down, swift and decisive. Hunters set the forest ablaze, driving the loup garou into a minefield and gunning them down as they try to escape. Some stay and fight, to be hacked apart by soldiers with wolfsbane coated swords. Those who flee east don't fare much better, dying like flies on their way into exile. Soon Rathound finds himself trudging- alone- through the blighted wastes of the SOX. It is there amidst the ruin of promised futures that he sees a human kneeling in the mud, tear tracks streaking through the grime on his face.

	What’s with the tears, Rathound asks. The man hardly seems to notice him, instead speaking into the air as if he's conversing with the wasteland itself. It’s because we're stuck between worlds, you and I, no longer able to live in the old and yet tragically unprepared for the new. I want us to finally break from those shackles which bind us to the will of the gods. He finally looks at the Loup Garou. Do you understand? Rathound nods, and he thinks: this old fool's cracked. He also thinks he has nothing to lose, so he offers to guide the human to his home while planning to kill him and take all his stuff. For the second time now he underestimates mortals, and for the second time he walks into a trap. The man- a powerful toxic mage- imprisons the garou in a long-dead reactor. They tell him that he will be gifted a body that suits the future he's brought on himself. Irradiated spirits dance in the rafters as white hot metal begins to split flesh. Years of maddening imprisonment fly by before Rathound awakes with a start.		What’s with the tears, Rathound asks. The man hardly seems to notice him, instead speaking into the air as if he's conversing with the wasteland itself. It’s because we're stuck between worlds, you and I, no longer able to live in the old and yet tragically unprepared for the new. I want us to finally break from those shackles which bind us to the will of the gods. He finally looks at the Loup Garou. Do you understand? Rathound nods, and he thinks: this old fool's cracked. He also thinks he has nothing to lose, so he offers to guide the human to his home while planning to kill him and take all his stuff. For the second time now he underestimates mortals, and for the second time he walks into a trap. The man- a powerful toxic mage- imprisons the garou in a long-dead reactor. They tell him that he will be gifted a body that suits the future he's brought on himself. Irradiated spirits dance in the rafters as white hot metal begins to split flesh. Years of maddening imprisonment fly by before Rathound awakes with a start.

DiscoGoblin: /* Negative */

2024-08-01T23:42:07Z

Negative

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:42, 1 August 2024
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	===Negative===		===Negative===

	* '''Pressure Cooker''' ''(Superhuman psychosis, PSC combat monster):'' ~~Even setting his appearance aside, regular~~ people find Rathound unsettling. His bone-deep sense of superiority, habitual use of combat stims, and ~~crippling body dysmorphia~~ all make for a violent emotional cocktail. ~~He is liable~~ to ~~go berserk when provoked and fight long past~~ the ~~point of reason~~.		* '''Pressure Cooker''' ''(Superhuman psychosis, PSC combat monster):'' Regular people find Rathound unsettling, and it's not just because of the looks. His bone-deep sense of superiority, habitual use of combat stims, and borderline cyberpsychosis all make for a violent emotional cocktail. Adding a loup garou's rage on top of that turns him into a true berserker, ready to throw down over the slightest provocation.

	* '''Off the Grid''' ''(Paranoia, uneducated, disheveled):'' Garou don't exactly do networking events, but even among his own kind Rathound stands out as a crazy loner. The man is practically feral, spending most of his time in wolf form. Up until recently he didn't know that the matrix had crashed a second time. He only interacts with human society when he absolutely needs to, because any one of them could be a hunter or an agent of his captor in disguise.		* '''Off the Grid''' ''(Paranoia, uneducated, disheveled):'' Garou don't exactly do networking events, but even among his own kind Rathound stands out as a crazy loner. The man is practically feral, spending most of his time in wolf form. Up until recently he didn't know that the matrix had crashed a second time. He only interacts with human society when he absolutely needs to, because any one of them could be a hunter or an agent of his captor in disguise.

DiscoGoblin: /* Positive */

2024-08-01T23:31:25Z

Positive

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	===Positive===		===Positive===

	* '''Infected, Loup Garou:''' The details of Rathound's mortal life are as blurry as they are unimportant~~. A~~ boring mortal whelp in a boring mortal town, stuck in the undignified grind of rural poverty. ~~As far as~~ he~~'s concerned~~, he~~'s always been Loup Garou. Demigods have no need to remember their shifts at the Aldi's checkout line~~.		* '''Infected, Loup Garou:''' The details of Rathound's mortal life are as blurry as they are unimportant: a boring mortal whelp in a boring mortal town, stuck in the undignified grind of rural poverty. Becoming loup garou was the greatest joy that he had ever known, which made it all the more painful when he was twisted beyond recognition.

	* '''Tough as a Radroach''' ''(Tough as nails [physical], radiation sponge, dual natured defender):'' When you've already come back from the worst, little things like gunshots don't seem all that bad.		* '''Tough as a Radroach''' ''(Tough as nails [physical], radiation sponge, dual natured defender):'' When you've already come back from the worst, little things like gunshots don't seem all that bad.

DiscoGoblin: /* Positive */

2024-08-01T23:29:53Z

Positive

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:29, 1 August 2024
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	* '''Infected, Loup Garou:''' The details of Rathound's mortal life are as blurry as they are unimportant. A boring mortal whelp in a boring mortal town, stuck in the undignified grind of rural poverty. As far as he's concerned, he's always been Loup Garou. Demigods have no need to remember their shifts at the Aldi's checkout line.		* '''Infected, Loup Garou:''' The details of Rathound's mortal life are as blurry as they are unimportant. A boring mortal whelp in a boring mortal town, stuck in the undignified grind of rural poverty. As far as he's concerned, he's always been Loup Garou. Demigods have no need to remember their shifts at the Aldi's checkout line.

	* '''Tough as a Radroach''' ''(~~High pain tolerance~~, radiation sponge, dual natured defender):'' When you've already come back from the worst, little things like gunshots don't seem all that bad.		* '''Tough as a Radroach''' ''(Tough as nails [physical], radiation sponge, dual natured defender):'' When you've already come back from the worst, little things like gunshots don't seem all that bad.

	===Negative===		===Negative===

DiscoGoblin: /* Appearance */

2024-08-01T23:24:00Z

Appearance

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:24, 1 August 2024
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	==Appearance==		==Appearance==

	A deceptively lean amalgamation of scars, corded muscle, and patchy grey fur. His hands sport ~~black~~ claws the length of daggers, his mouth is a yellowed hacksaw of teeth. His watery eyes have translucent membranes which blink independently of his eyelids. Running down his ~~back~~ is a brutal apparatus designed to administer combat stims, covered in knife-etched runes that glow with a sickly green light while transforming.		A deceptively lean amalgamation of scars, corded muscle, and patchy grey fur. His hands sport claws the length of daggers, and his mouth is a yellowed hacksaw of teeth. His watery eyes have translucent membranes which blink independently of his eyelids. Running down his spine is a brutal apparatus designed to administer combat stims, covered in knife-etched runes that glow with a sickly green light while transforming. The wolf form is just as unnerving as the human: a skeletal, mangy, rabid-looking mutt. The auto-injector takes the form of a biodrone controller on the nape of his neck.

	The wolf form is just as unnerving as the human: a skeletal, mangy, rabid-looking mutt. The auto-injector takes the form of a biodrone controller on the nape of his neck.

	=== Clothing ===		=== Clothing ===

DiscoGoblin: /* Assensing Table */

2024-08-01T23:21:08Z

Assensing Table

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:21, 1 August 2024
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	{{AssensingTable\|		{{AssensingTable\|
	\|Result1= Awakened, infected, and in poor health both physically and mentally. His acid-green aura looks like a liquid just about to boil.		\|Result1= Awakened, infected, and in poor health both physically and mentally. His acid-green aura looks like a liquid just about to boil.
	\|Result2= Holes in the essence around the ~~left arm~~ look like they've been chewed by bugs. Whoever installed this cyberware did so without regard for comfort		\|Result2= Holes in the essence around the spine look like they've been chewed out by bugs. Whoever installed this cyberware did so without regard for comfort
	\|Result3= Strain 2 infected, with a healthy dose of radiation poisoning on top of that. Not actually toxic, notably, just ravaged by long-term exposure.		\|Result3= Strain 2 infected, with a healthy dose of radiation poisoning on top of that. Not actually toxic, notably, just ravaged by long-term exposure.
	\|Result4= His bioware almost seems alive, growing like a parasite inside his body. The strongest concentrations are in the heart and brain. Essence 3, magic 3.		\|Result4= His bioware almost seems alive, growing like a parasite inside his body. The strongest concentrations are in the heart and brain. Essence 3, magic 3.