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in recent days [days as in hours] it occurs to me that injecting myself into Barton with an old character was perhaps not the best of ideas. is it possible to inquire here into an RP that is stable in posting consistency; and hopefully with a degree of laxity on someone as uninformed as me?

if that is indeed the case; i would very much appreciate this thread's help and input, as it has proved to be very useful indeed.

[eons ago in that dog's year i petitioned for change in the Guild sub-forums; i was a fool to think something might actually happen. perhaps we can talk some time.]

i believe it is the same sound as kenshiro.

as in

tatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatata.

indeed by many standards i may consider myself tamer, as the interpretation of a monster or monstrosity is derived from the eyes of a 'normal person' context..

you may be right; although the nature of RP often acts as an extension of our literary selves; and to absence of the concrete allows our audience to play to their imaginations, tantalizing themselves with their own interpretation of our creations.

i understand this is not the case here, however, and will gladly rectify my character so that it best fits those questions.

although i cannot at the moment provide all answers [as i do not yet know all questions] concerning Ichabor Rostov; i can concretely say that from previous use that his hunched frame reaches eight feet in height, and six feet in width. the greatest of his girth comes from his arms, shaped in a gorilla-esque fashion.

the man is devoid of any 'powers', to describe him as being gorgon-like alludes to him being by every right a monster.

if you have any other questions prioritized, i will be sure to answer them in a punctual manner, as to best help me tidy up my profile.

you are correct in that sense. it is a flaw that stems from RP that focuses on the theatrical aspect of combat, and therefore lacks technical detail. however; if hard numbers are indeed the solution, then it is one that i may humbly provide if it grants me into this new atmosphere of Barton RPing.

then i will lament the loss of one of my little piggies.

yes. that implies a certain degree of ignorance on thread circumstance. if i should step out of line, feel free to inform me and i will retract my rebellious toe.

hello.

[Name] Ichabor Annestesja Rostov
[Gender:] Male
[Race:] Transitory stage of human evolution.
[Physical Appearance:]
The man known as Ichabor Rostov stands at a height just shy of being considered a colossus, with the meat of his build bulked considerably in his upper torso and arms, delivering the appearance of being gorilla-like in stature. This image is further built upon by the posture Ichabor gives as being perpetually slouched, knuckles close to being dragged in a primitive troglodyte fashion.

It is his hands that induce the most terror; sickening black tendrils aggravated by the condition of his over-grown tissue shape themselves into tortured claw-like appendages. Onyx bone severs the tissue and breaks forth from the marrow in serrated blades. They were not hands, no, and as monstrous as they look, there is a certain refinement to them, the way a surgeon’s tools may have a sinister yet necessary presence

All this; bound within sterile white confines of a laboratory coat. The sanguine stains that now indelibly mar its surface stretch the fabric to its limits, barely containing the man or monster within. This appears to be the first of several objects that belie the man’s sagacious history; be it the pair of neatly pressed pin-stripe slacks that adorn his undersized legs, or the muck-stained dress shoes that had once possessed a value beyond that of the normal man’s salary.

It might be in one’s best interest to avoid staring down the face of this gorgon-like man, though the eyes he once had, cavernous things, are obstructed by a thick set of glasses, it is that depraved smile that drives one insane. The way his lips part far wider than that of a normal human being, like the venom-laced slit of a snake, and the way the flesh on his mouth pulls back, revealing a set of gruesome teeth, pearled and white, without a single hint of decay upon them, with the exception of the little red stains that remain. He breaths heavily; releasing a barren scent devoid of any calming characteristic, a steely smell that sharply enters the nose like the heavy disinfectant of a surgical room.

[Physical, biological, and chemical properties: ]

The size and stature of Ichabor Rostov thwart the facilitation of speed; he moves as if one might imagine he would, a slow and methodical lumber. Indeed; in observation, he is slow to speed, but as with many large mammals, uses his own body as leverage to gain momentum, the anchors that are his arms vault the rest of his body forward in a pendulum-like swing, slow at first, but reaching a point where it is almost like the vigorous and violent charge of a gorilla. The sheer weight of Ichabor Rostov implies that if he should come into contact with someone during a tackle, the impact would be the equivalent of a full-sized sedan at 30 miles per hour, enough to devastate the condition of a human being.

The duality of this immense strength comes at a glaring fault, as Rostov lacks the same sort of agility of a gorilla in close quarters, as the lag-time to raise an arm leaves an opening for a swifter being to land a blow easily. As a result, the fundamental statutes of the evolutionary process bred Rostov to be an extremely defensive creature, drawing upon the mass of his body to obstruct any interference with his vital organs.

It is in that clause that one can divine the nature of Rostov’s biological construction. As a living tank, his low mobility and high susceptibility to faster opponents are balanced by the structural integrity and strength of his tissue. At first, Rostov’s skin was simply like an exterior set of cells, they were no stronger than the normal human being, but instead, grouped tighter in exponentially larger numbers, meaning puncture weapons could not establish a point of entry. Despite that, the cells were still vulnerable to the same human vices, and could easily be induced into cell death or necrosis. The adaptive nature of Rostov’s physical being however changed the nature of his body when Rostov was tested in the Psiram Weather and Atmosphere Conditioning Program, which forced Rostov’s premature stage of evolution into a series of environmental hazards. The results of the test had toughened Rostov’s skin, creating thick plate-like structures upon his back, arms, and upper torso. This in turn allows Rostov to act similarly to an armadillo, using the thick outer armoring to shield any weaker organs.

The implications of the Psiram WAter C. PRGM created a series of developmental issues; although Rostov proved to be near flame retardant due to the insulation-like properties of his outer skin , he was prone to physical debilitation in extreme cold, reducing his mobility and flexibility, and was still susceptible to human disease and viruses. As a cognizant and intelligent being, Rostov takes meticulous efforts to shield himself against these weaknesses, and as a result, may often be adorned in winter clothing in addition to his coat.

Curious; among the other glaring bastions of human technology, are Rostov’s hands, or lack thereof. The blackened claws that replaced them maintain little of the dexterity of human fingers, and the twisted gnarled stiffness of each one insist that they are of completely solid material, as opposed to having nerve-endings, blood vessels, or flesh. The claws themselves appear to be similar to the plated armor, capable of being subjected to extreme physical duress, and yet still malleable so that should enough pressure be applied, it would simply bend, not break. Due to the myriad number of thorn-like protrusions and scythe-like appendages, it is safe to say that Rostov’s hands can easily rend into the body of a normal human being. God hope that the man or woman before him be just swift enough to dodge, lest they be disemboweled.

[The Abridged History of Ichabor Annestesja Rostov; collectively known by the Psiram™ Agencies/Imperiora/Collective/PsiIntern information database AI as Project Volga, among a series of other names that imply a vaguely comical jab at the bureaucratic nature of RP character histories.]

As far as Psiram existed; back to its hazy origins as a government-related research and development branch, stretch the records of employment of one Ichabor Annestesja Rostov. His omniscient presence in Psiram's history goes as far back as to its first President. Despite this, he bore no connection or relation to the pre-existing Psiram staff, despite being instituted as one of the Board Administrators who monitored Psiram's development. Speculation insists that Rostov was a member of the government, injected into the hectic labs of Psiram to ensure that they were working in the best interests of the current administration.

Regardless of how he came to afford himself such a high-ranking title in Psiram's company, he had quickly proven himself to be an able and devoted researcher, instrumental in the coordination of Psiram's numerous biology divisions. Those who worked with him described him as a friendly, amiable man, with none of the characteristics of the monster that goes by his name now.

It is that transition, from the past Rostov to the current one, that is intertwined with the downfall of Psiram's namesake as a once progressive R&D branch to the demented and visceral name it had carved for itself after it had achieved sustainable funding.

As Psiram began to employ its staff to research hazardous pursuits that bordered and breached numerous ethical boundaries, Ichabor began to find himself isolated from the administrative network. He balked at the ethical implications of Psiram's work, appealing his opinion to the other administrators. As a response, Psiram offered him his own research division, to pursue as he pleased. Although he understood this was an effort to tone down his words, he quietly accepted, sure that while Psiram was pursuing more dangerous forms of research, he could still apply a beneficial approach to his work.

It was his blindness to his work that proved his folly, and he was oblivious to the wolves draped in sheep's skins that circled him. As he prepared on the first night of his reward to reap its benefits, he did not notice the staff Psiram had given him, and was unaware of them closing in until it was too late, and was stunned and dragged into the labyrinthine bowels of Psiram's secret research facilities.

Eager to execute their vendetta against Rostov's outspoken nature, the Psiram administrators quickly tossed him to the mercy of their most vile of researchers. Under tortuous conditions they worked relentlessly upon his frail body, dragging him to hell and back through the almost sadistic applications of their science. As Rostov's body began to change, he found himself being walled from his own intelligence, as the biological strain reduced his mind's ability coordinate itself into basic human functions. Although he retained the same knowledge he once had, the same brilliance that had brought him here, it was obstructed, locked away in the confines of his skull. The new body that had formed was the barrier between him and the real world.

Rostov's tormentors underestimated the repercussions of their research, thinking they had reduced him to primitive cognizance; they often left Rostov alone and unsecured in the lab in which they experimented upon him. Had they realized their mistakes, they would have known that it was inevitable that Rostov would plan his reprisal. Yet it still came as a shock the moment his lumbering body emerged from the hidden cusps of the laboratory and shut the door behind them, sealing their fates as Rostov's first victims, and the first hint of his preferred sustenance.

The clandestine nature of Psiram's secret facilities meant that it was long before the Administrators realized what had happened. By then, Rostov had donned the uniform he once owned and always coveted, and stalked the research laboratories as a b*****d predator of their work.

Psiram's lucrative nature always supersedes its sense of caution. Rather than capturing Rostov, they converted the research facility into a giant environmental test, experimenting and improving upon Rostov's advanced intelligence in conjunction with his superior physical prowess. The labs were ordered to run as normal, and faculty were made acutely informed of Rostov's presence. They were armed and ordered to work under those conditions, compensated by a high salary sum. The complexities of the test were documented in Psiram's information database; as Rostov's interactions were highly unpatterned and suggested that he still retained some degree of his humanity. In some researchers, he was able to barter his security. He would kill one researcher's competition, and in return, that researcher would protect him from other armed staff. In other circumstances, Rostov would randomly select certain researchers for food, and still others he appeared to favor, and never touched.

Although Psiram considered the results of their work on Rostov to be of high priority, the laboratories were shut down in order to avoid collateral damage from political turmoil that had plagued the nation. In adjusting inventory and relocating all the materials located in their covert research centers, there was no hint to the physical location of Ichabor Rostov, the man they had long cultivated into a monster, had escaped.

http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/barton-ooc/the-character-creation-thread-news-1-5-08/t.23004119_28831/#28832

[Miserable pile of secrets.]

E: What in God's name is a Hooky Team Captain?