Pax [REQ]

Out of Character chatter and the section rules/announcements.
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Deus Mortis
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Re: Pax [REQ]

Post by Deus Mortis » Sun Mar 22, 2020 4:26 pm

Thank you Illirica, Reyn, Mat, and Mav for the following suggestions, respectively:
"good at shooting. the thing he wanted to shoot gets shot. where he wanted to shoot it."

"gun yes."

"He had a gun. Bang. He hit it."

"Talk about his kill death ratio."

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Re: Pax [REQ]

Post by Fill » Sat May 30, 2020 4:09 am

"Fuck you. I'm too tired for this shit."
Personal Information
Name: Dewi Maguire
Codename: Double Down
Alias: Pax's Last Paragon
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 28 y/o
Eye Color: Emerald
Hair Color: Auburn
Height: 6'1" (1.9m.)
Weight: 188lbs. (85.3 kg)
Citizenship: American
Residence: Apartment Complex
Relatives: None
Base of Operations: None
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Affiliation: None
Identity: Secret
Orientation: Heterosexual
Marital Status: Single
Occupation: Vigilante; Police Detective
World's Greatest Asskicker and Nametaker
Pax. The City of Beasts. I'd say I'm a devil among them, but that'd be a super-cliche line that's probably been used by half a dozen dumbfucks wearing Hot Topic furry costumes that look like armored condoms. You can't tell me that shit can stop a bullet when I can I see your one-inch dick about to bust through the fabric. Anyway, I'm just a guy who is just a collection of mismatched character defects and archetypes. I've got a terrible attitude and temper, check. Snarky jackassery, check. Skills and the biggest schlong in Pax, check. Fucked up sleep schedule, check. Fueling myself on nothing but coffee, protein bars, and canned foods, check. Complete and utter dumbassery, check. I mean, I have to be in order to be a cop and an occasional vigilante. Used to roam these streets. Made 'em my own, you feel me? No, not like that. Although, I appreciate the confidence, but, no, fuck off.

Where was I? Oh yeah. My vigilante career. Started when I was in my teens when I got my powers. I was selfish and beat the shit out of scumbags because it made me feel good. Dad was a cop. Got shot up in some fucking alley. The entire gang behind that are now eating through tubes. Hey, I'm not perfect and I certain am fuck not apologizing for what I did. They should be grateful to be alive at the least. Apologizing is for pussies. I'm not one to back down from anything, even if I'm wrong. Don't believe me? Ask the guy I sent to the ER because I shoved an entire broken beer bottle's worth of glass up his ass. Anyway, my mom died of an overdose. I thought she got clean, that I got her clean. We were making progress. Then, I get home, and she was dead long before I arrived. Let's just say there is not too much a drug problem around those streets where my mom lived at anymore. Don't ask for details. You won't get them.

Although, you can probably guess the general theme is people, no, Pax fucked up my life, and I fucked it right back into the corner like the little bitch it is. I'm not one for the whole determination or never giving up bullshit, but I've got the toughest, biggest cajones. You could bounce a bullet off of them, and get fucking gold bars rebounding right back or a pile of dogshit. Did I mention I had a mouth? Yeah, that goes greate with me not backing down from jackshit. I'll call it how I see, and you won't get nothing but the blunt honest truth, which you could say is a good quality if I didn't piss all over it with my snarky dick.

One thing I could say Pax didn't fuck up for me is my education among other things. I got solid degrees. I knew my way around a crime scene and a computer too. Not bad at straight up engineering either. Got a job. Worked forensics for a bit before working my way into becoming detective. I can proudly says as both an asshole and absolute dumbfuck, I am the cleanest fucking cop in the city besides the whole vigilante thing. But does it really count when I only put the suit on when someone tries to fuck around in my neighborhood? Hell, dropping them off in jail won't give them much incentive to stop, if they even land in the slammer. Oh, you're wondering why being a clean cop is stupid as hell in Pax? Wages are shit. Coworkers treat you like shit. You've got to check your apartment for fucking bombs and shit. Normal typical Tuesday shit like that. Also, means I got tons of cool stories, though. Bright side to everything or something, I guess.

Anyway, let's get down to the real business. Like my meta abilities or whatever. The best one I got is teleportation. I can bend space-time or some shit like that. It includes me and anything I happen to have on me and/or touching. Not bad right? I've also got electricity manipulation and generation. I can generate enough current to knock someone on their ass real good and screw with electronics in a general range. Let's me also sense the electromagnetic fields of other individuals and objects, so it lets me sense things. Real handy. My grip strength is around 200 kgf (2844.67 psi), which means if I grab a limb or something, snap! Broken like a twig. Makes me a fan-fuckin'-tastic grappler and martial artist. Speaking of which, I know how to fight like a damn madman. Studied that shit and practiced gymnastics. Great combo with everything else I got. Oh! And I almost forgot the last thing I can do. It's wicked as hell. If I look at a person's eyes, I can give them an illusion that lasts for a minute or so. I can only use it a few times before it's all used up and I get a massive shitty migraine.

I'm sorta tempted to use it on my fucking commissioner, absolute bitch, but she's been cleaning stuff up in Pax, so I might hold off on that. Still, she's breathing down my neck, even though she does that with everyone where I work, I feel like she particularly wants to fuck up my life. Maybe that's just my vigilante paranoia or paranoia in general considering how shitty my life is. She thinks she's the fucking best at this shit. Go suck my dick. Not like she probably isn't already for some crime lord around here. She's probably going to assassinated within a few months, tops. I'm gonna laugh once she gets the gut punch Pax'll gives everyone. Or, maybe I'll use it on that piss perfect district attorney who I know, I fucking know, there is something more to her. Or maybe not. I don't give two fucks about her anyway, considering the stress is making her an old hag. I can see the white in her hair, the wrinkles on her face, don't lie to me. All in all, I don't buy her squeaky clean bullshit.

You never should buy anything in Pax. No seriously, don't fucking dare. Prices are too damn high for everything. I swear to high heaven, they want my soul for the electricity and water.

Although, if there were a few people I tolerated, Joshua was one of them. Good ol' Josh. Put up with my bullshit well enough. Shame what happened to real. Real damn shame.

I'm so tired. Tired of Pax. Tired of the fighting. The hurt. The blood. The scars. Everything. I want to leave and never come back. I will leave and never come back. Fuck this place, fuck everything.

Anyway, I guess I should wrap it up. I'm uh Dewi Maguire, if ya' didn't know that already. Also known as Double Down. Just chose that for my name 'cause it's about blackjack. Fitting since I might as well be betting my life away with these damn escapades. I'm going to get myself some actually good sleep. Pop some Aspirin and have a beer.

Just so tired of this shit. Fuck this.

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Nero D'Avola
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Re: Pax [REQ]

Post by Nero D'Avola » Fri Jul 24, 2020 4:12 pm


SUBJECT: "Nero D'Avola"
NAME Unknown
ALIAS Nero D'Avola
DATE of BIRTH Unknown; subject appears roughly 30

HEIGHT / WEIGHT 5'8'' / 175 lbs
HAIR / EYES Black / Blue


this is a row of hidden text it does not do anything except create a spacer and this code came from MATT

Nero D'Avola is one of the most famous wines of Italy, named for Avola in the south of Sicily. For this mercenary to take it as his alias - "The Black Grape" - betrays both his Italian heritage and a debonair approach to his nightly activities. It'd be like an American naming themselves "Coca Cola" then proceeding to run around with a knife hunting deadly criminals. But who else would do such a thing than Nero D'Avola, who to this day has displayed no superhuman abilities, no documented use of advanced gadgets, and not even any protective gear?

As for what we can say about him, he is highly precise. We've found no DNA evidence or fingerprints anywhere that would allow us to confirm his identity, though we've retrieved a number of his custom knives. They are very plain, but have an ND inscribed where the blade meets the hilt, which authenticate them as his. There's no record of firearm usage or chemical attack - his type usually employ explosives and poisons, or even just smoke bombs, but to this day forensics have returned no evidence of ever deploying such tools.

D'Avola sometimes brings his targets in alive. Other times, not so much.


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Re: Pax [REQ]

Post by Saint » Sat Aug 08, 2020 1:26 am

The Patron Saint of Pax.

You can throw your rock, and hide your hand, working in the dark against your fellow man.
But as sure as God made black and white, what's done in the dark will be brought to the light.


The slums of the Treaty City are a concrete meat grinder. They chew up people, and spit them back out as something unrecognizable. Jacob Mallory was no exception. He grew up in the shittiest part of a shitty town, watching the people around him starve and die. It was an environment conducive to breeding a particular sort of nihilism. When crime lords have more of an influence on your life than the cops, it's hard not to see the world as one of artificial rules. There are no cosmic penalties for breaking them, only material ones.

So Mallory turned to crime. It was the only available path for someone like him- young, athletic, and intelligent. First it was just petty theft, keeping himself fed by stealing food from bodegas and corner stores. But he caught the eye of a local gang-boss, who gave him the proverbial offer you can't refuse. He put Jacob to work, first just as muscle, and then elsewhere. Mallory was never just a dumb thug. He had a sharp mind, and it the drug dealers and human traffickers were the first ones ever to notice. They put him in charge of keeping their books in order, and keeping the law off their backs in a world of increasingly ever-present surveillance.

Eventually, the Feds found them out. For all Mallory's computer wizardry, he couldn't compete with the teams of technicians who'd been put on the case. A SWAT team raided the gang's hideout, and while the leadership fled, they were more than happy to leave him to fry. Afterwards, in processing, they connected used facial-recognition software to connect Jacob to CCTV footage of a dozen previous crimes- including several murders

Looking for a win in a city overrun by its criminal element, the DA's office was more than happy to throw the book at Jacob. He was a legal adult by that point, though barely. And while his lawyer did her best to argue that he had been manipulated by those around him, Mallory's stolid refusal to ask for mercy made sure his sentence wasn't light.

He got twenty-five years. Jacob took the sentencing with the same grim apathy as he had everything else in his life. It was the same story as a million other children of the City of Beasts. He knew that he deserved the punishment, and he still didn't regret a thing. But in prison, Mallory underwent a change. He'd never had hope of redemption, but he found a different path. That of martyrdom. Of dying for a cause. He gained a purpose- to redeem his city, cleanse it of the filth that infested it. No matter the cost.

For years, Jacob was a model prisoner. When he asked for parole, it was granted. But the review board had underestimated him. Within a week of being freed, Mallory had managed to ditch his ankle monitor in a sewer, and access the prison database, erasing all record of his arrest and incarceration. His time in jail, and his abuse at the hands of the guards, had been proof enough that the justice system in Pax was just as corrupt as everything else.

In the eyes of the system, Jacob Mallory was a nonperson. He became something else, instead. Took up a new name: Saint. Not because he thought himself a paragon of moral virtue, but because he knew that the path he had chosen could only end in one place. Death.


A significant motivation for Jacob's deeds is guilt for the crimes led to his arrest. However, the persona of 'The Saint' and the man himself seem to be largely divorced. In his daily life as an anonymous citizen of Pax, Mallory expresses no emotion, moving through a daily routine with mechanical efficiency. By contrast, the Saint persona is visibly brimming with rage, often brutal and merciless.

Even within the persona of the Saint, Mallory seems to exhibit virtually no regard for his own personal health. He will routinely place himself in great danger for the sake of others, or to uphold his code. Indeed, Mallory's body is covered in scars that attest to the shocking amount of physical punishment he's been subjected to over the years he's spent as the Saint.

In stark contrast to his early years of amoral nihilism, the Saint now lives by a strict code, the tenets of which are unknown. However, he is extremely discerning with his allies, associating himself only with those who meet his exacting ethical standards. Those who do not are, at best, left alone. At worst, they become the next name on his list.


Counter to common conceptions about hackers, the Saint is far from a frail basement dweller. His physical condition is close to the peak of possible human achievement, both in terms of endurance and strength. Despite enduring years of violent physical punishment, Mallory's body is as fit as it's ever been. His robotic routine involves hours of physical exercise, using weight-training machines in his own sparse apartment.

A significant factor in the nearly-inhuman resiliency that the Saint exhibits is his determination. The man's complete refusal to give in allows him to emerge from even the worst disasters without collapsing. Even covered in shrapnel and with his jacket on fire, Mallory will continue fighting to accomplish his objective, only stopping to rest once he's satisfied that the job is done.


While Jacob Mallory is generally emotionless, the persona of the Saint is incredibly violent. He routinely brutalizes his enemies in the process of 'interrogating' them, while verifying their information through his hacking skills. The Saint is also unflinching in his adherence to his personal code, no matter how many lives it dictates he must take. While a 'grey-hat hacker,' Mallory's body count is comparable to that of some of America's more infamous serial killers.

The Saint's unrelenting brutality has made him a terrifying figure to those he targets, including members of Pax's organized crime network. Being caught by the police merely entails arrest. Being caught by the Saint means you won't be returning home with all of your fingers. If you're unlucky, it'll be in a body bag. However, presumably out of some sympathy due to his personal experiences, Mallory first offers his potential victims a chance to 'repent,' and willingly surrender themselves to the justice system. Those who do are released, but monitored. Those who refuse will face the Saint's justice instead.


Though well-known for his hacking proficiency, the Saint's 'meatspace' skills are incredibly impressive as well. He's demonstrably talented in the art of parkour, navigating the concrete jungle of Pax with a practiced ease that his pursuers in the police or private security cannot match. Furthermore, Mallory's facility with firearms is comparable to many trained professionals- he regularly visits a firing range in his civilian identity, spending hours at a time refining his aim and accuracy.

Perhaps the most important part of the Saint's skillset is multi-tasking. He's capable of using his phone to hack into enemies' tech while exchanging fire with them, creating distractions or exposing weaknesses. This may be due to a hypothesized bipolar disorder that separates the personae of Mallory and the Saint in his mind, allowing him to focus completely on two separate tasks.


The grey-hat community in Pax has a storied past, stretching all the way back to the days of phone phreaking. Mallory's tools are a bit more advanced, but the idea remains the same. Finding even the tiniest crack in the security of a system, and exploiting it to the fullest extent possible. Once the Saint is into your system, it's virtually impossible to get him out.

Typically, what limits most hackers is distance. There's only so much you can do to a system when you're accessing it remotely, even with administrator access. George has no such limits. His facility with technology is matched only by his physical prowess, and infiltrating a server farm to plant a virus in person is most certainly within his capabilities.

Unlike the hackers of the previous generation, Mallory can impact much more of the world around him. Autonomous cars, CCTV cameras, even the smartphones of anyone walking down the street. And, unlike older devices, they're all connected wirelessly. It's easier than ever to get into a system, and the Saint has a number of tools at his disposal to help. A complex program that runs on his phone can be deployed to brute-force the security of a nearby wireless device, cracking all but the most competent security within seconds. This affords the Saint a stunning amount of control, from remotely hijacking cars to loading trackers onto smartphones.

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