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1001 interesting character ideas

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  • #16
    18) 16 years old and an Adept of Spirit, Siduri was born to an Awakened mother in the Axis Mundi realm of the High Umbra. She has spent her entire life in the spirit worlds. With her mother Kishar she has climbed the World Tree, descended to the Babylonian underworld of Irkalla, and debated masters of rhetoric in the Philosopher Kingdoms. Now she is an adult and no longer required to stay with her mother in exile. After traveling through many of the worlds dreamt of by humanity, her next journey will be the most challenging adventure yet: Subur, otherwise known as Earth. It is not yet known if her mother's old Hermetic Chantry will welcome her. If she will find her way in such an alien place as this one that most of her fellow humans know as home.


    • #17
      19) A Syndicate rep who is not entirely dedicated to the party line in terms of his methods and activities. Maybe it's his Primordial Eidolon, or perhaps he's just seen the superstitionists and Reality Deviants in action one too many times. Regardless, he can't fully put his faith in Enlightened Science to explain the world...or to protect it. He still does the hypereconomics and the art of desire, he's decided to hedge his bets, and shop around a bit. He's come to understand that mystics adorn themselves with the symbols of animals, in order to channel their power. The way he does it is more subtle, of course - he's more likely to wear a scorpion pin on his suit, lion-pattern socks, and alligator skin shoes, than actually run around with a wolf pelt on his head. If anyone asks, he cites the psychological effects of identifying with beasts than any type of sympathetic resonance. He certainly would never use such articles to spontaneously grow claws. Something eccentric, but nothing overtly unscientific.

      Of much greater concern - if anyone found out about it - is his delving into Spirit. Not necessarily Dimensional Science, but outright SPIRIT. The way he figures, extradimensional entities are just another rational (or irrational) actor that he can cut a deal with. Or else, a resource to exploit. He prefers to communicate and arrange "meetings" (summoning) with his "business associates" through the medium of computers and conference calls. And, like any business person, he treats the negotiations like a business deal. He prepares the finest food and drink, wards himself with a table sitting between him and the spirits, and seals the deal with a written contract. Naturally, these covert activities are massively unmutual, and likely to get him in hot water if his superiors ever find out.


      • #18
        Here's another one, this time with an even longer description. Enjoy.

        20) Kill-sin "Boy" Bright is a young man in conflict with himself.

        Born at a crossroads at dusk on All Hallows Eve, Kill-sin was the son of a New England Puritan pastor and his wife. The latter turned out to be a witch, and Kill-sin's father, Obedience Exalt-God Bright, would have condemned her to the community's judgement (and almost certainly an execution after), had his heart not overrode his sense of duty. Instead, he banished her from the town quietly, so as to satisfy his religious obligation and spare her life. Perhaps because of this lapse, Father Bright doubled down on his strict moralism in regards to his son, raising Kill-sin in a firm manner.

        Naturally, Kill-sin reacted to this treatment with rebellion. A crafty child with a streak of mischief in his heart, he made himself a toublemaker. Subsequent corporal punishment taught Kill-sin to be more careful, but didn't dampen his spirit. Eventually, he learned that his mother still lived, and traveled to the outskirts of the local village to visit her shack. His mother, Nevermore, quickly took a shine to the boy, and offered to teach him witchcraft, as was his birthright. Naturally, he jumped at the chance. His days were filled with feigning obedience and Biblical scholasticism to his father, while his nights were spent sneaking to his mother for knowledge in the old ways.

        This state of affairs could never last. Through a serious of events involved in Kill-sin's disobedience and carelessness, his parents ended up dying violent deaths at the hands of the local townspeople. And as he fished his father's blood-splattered Bible from their burning home, Kill-sin knew that everything was his fault. So he ran. He ran as far and as fast as he could, tears running down his face and an intolerable guilt in his heart. Only his mother's black cat - her familiar - followed. Only she could keep pace with the boy.

        As a point of fact, he ran so terribly fast and hard, when he finally collapsed to the ground out of breath, he looked up to find he'd run across the ages. Through a stress-triggered Awakening and a bout of wild magick, Kill-sin had traveled centuries into the future, stopping at the present day.

        His trickster streak is still alive, but in many ways it is only one side of the coin. Though he hides it well, Kill-sin has been deeply scarred by his mistake, and carries the weight of his parent's deaths firmly on his shoulders. While he adores witchery and seeks new knowledge with fervor, he cannot shake or deny the knowledge that it was his impiety that brought ruin. As such, he has adopted just as much Faith work as he has Witchcraft, in an attempt to resolve the deep shame he feels. Where once he rebelled against his father, now he draws the trappings and practices of Puritanism around him like a blanket. It is this profound schism within himself that leaves him an emotional wreck. He calls himself Boy Bright, the Puritan Witch, in an ongoing attempt to resolve the cognitive dissonance that refuses to die quietly.

        It doesn't help that Kill-sin's Avatar appears as his father in his dreams. Even long dead, Obedience preaches hellfire and godly action, this time to a Congregation of one.

        Kill-sin "Boy" Bright is a young man in conflict with himself. He's in conflict with himself, and with the world around him. A world that is so interesting, and yet even he finds appalling in its immorality.

        It's all left him a little unhinged. By day, he is his father's son, channeling his Magick through simple dressing and simple living; that power of Old Time Religion. By night, he is his mother's son, bending the world through hexes and cunning knowledge; the power of the Old Ways. Only at crossroads or crossing times is he truly free, when the place and time matches how he feels inside. Neither Puritan nor Witch. Neither Trickster nor Penitent. Neither Godly nor Wicked.
        Last edited by Bluecho; 10-15-2016, 11:51 PM.


        • #19
          21) After completing a risky solo mission of executing an identified, seemingly isolated Adsinistratus, an NWO Operative stayed at the apartment of the Nephandus for the textbook 10 minutes - looking for anything of interest or concern. Before those ten minutes, he wasn't one to believe in ghosts - sure, EDEs existed, but they in all likelihood they simply masqueraded as spirits of humans. After those ten minutes of wailing, pleading, objects being thrown around him and ghastly silhouettes flashing, he wasn't so sure. At the 10 minute mark, he was going to leave, but as he were closing the door, he heard sobbing. Thinking - or merely rationalizing going back? - that this merits investigation, he went into the apartment, locked the door, took out a cigarette and managed to crack "Well, I guess we could talk for a few minutes, cause..I wanted to have a smoke anyway, and I can't do this in the corridor, right? So....if anyone is here...."
          A pair of ghastly, emaciated boy teenagers appeared and explained that they thank him for the funny effort, but nothing can save them from "the cold". Looking at the boys...recalling reading up about Mages binding spirits....he realized that the Union lied to him. Thinking how many apartments must be like this, he resolved to stay and help in this one situation.

          With an awkward "Well, I guess you could try lighting this up?" he offered a smoke to the boys, and they jumped at the chance. He went out, tossed the corpse of the Adsinistratus into an alley, and went back with some snacks and beers. Pulling from memory what he read about Reality Deviants, he realized that he needs a 'foci' to make the place 'his own' and keep any other ghostly intruders out..and opted for flowers, with kinds and colors chosen by the ghosts. (Luckily enough, there was a leaflet of a 24h flower delivery service - "Flowers for your Empress" - sticking out of the postbox.) He spent the evening impressing the teenagers with his job and romantic exploits. By the morning the boys were healthier looking and the maddened glee almost disappeared from their eyes. They asked if they can 'slumber' here instead of 'the cellar', and the NWO agreed.

          Shortly afterwards a Mage opened the seemingly locked door and stood at the entrance. Realizing in an instant that his gun appeared to be...lost (Or did he simply leave it somewhere because of the stress?), the NWO walked up to him. The Mage introduced himself as an elder member of the ancient Euthanatos Tradition, and said that he has been watching him and his actions speak of his potential. At the NWO's surprised look, the Mage smiled and said "What, who were you expecting? A Nephandus? Tell you what, I'll ring you later." before walking away.
          Last edited by Muad'Dib; 10-16-2016, 03:18 PM.


          • #20
            22) Average. Of course, humanity is so broad and differentiated, it's difficult to define what an "Average" person is. It's almost oxymoronic, really, to refer to an average human.

            And in truth, the Average Man could hardly be called as such, if he didn't do his damnedest to affect the image. This is a guy whose early life was...different. Or perhaps it was, from his point of view, entirely "normal" (presumably that means it was within the bounds of expected normality within his socio-economic station). The Average Man doesn't talk about his past much, as that would serve to present aspects of him that would make him unique. And he can't have that.

            The Average Man's Magick - a word he never uses - is built on him affecting the guise of a normal, everyday guy. The face in the crowd. A Gutter Mage by practice and Orphan by inclination, the Average Man dresses for his environment, whether that is cubicle farm business casual, a t-shirt and jeans on the streets, or the full punk look down at the metal bar. He's got an entire wardrobe full of costumes for any occasion, and several changes of clothes in his used sedan. His "magical" tools are everyday items as well, and change with the locale. He prefers Entropy and Mind, as it allows him to effect change on a subtle level, and divert attention from himself. But he's branching out into Matter, so that he can change his clothes on the fly, or "happen to find" the right key while thumbing through his heavily laden keychain. Add in his extensive research on popular trends, sports, politics, weather, and other "filler" conversation material, and he's set to fit in wherever he happens to be.

            What does he use his "talents" for? Making his life easier, mostly. He's not unaware of the Ascension War, but he prefers to let the weirdos fight it out amongst themselves. But what he doesn't admit - especially to himself - is that he's way too weird on his own to really be a part of the "normal" world. The Average Man is a constructed facade. Nor does he have strong feelings about anything, or have much interest in the hobbies of normal people, save as they inform his interactions with others. In many ways, he's an outsider, studying popular trends the way a scientist would. A detached understanding born more of its relevance to the common people than out of their intrinsic value.

            Because the Average Man has harbored a secret fear. An anxiety born from his Awakening (which naturally he doesn't share the details of). It's that fear of being different, of not fitting in. He wants to fit back in with humanity more than anything. And if circumstances threaten to alter the normal, unassuming life he desires, that's not okay. He'll defend his normal life, even if he must jump into the magical world he's otherwise avoided until now. Because once the threats are over, he'll be able to wash himself of that nonsense, and pick up where he left off.

            Or, at least that's what he thinks. The Average Man, after all, greatly underestimates the shadow wars being fought for the world's hearts and minds.
            Last edited by Bluecho; 10-21-2016, 10:00 PM.


            • #21
              23) You're a former member of the NWO Watchers who abandoned the Technocracy after being asked to frame a Mage for a murder he didn't commit. Even though you have been a probationary member of a Chantry for one month, you refuse to abandon your Technocratic roots - still considering Inspired Science to be more reliable and safer, especially for the Masses. While your knowledge of Correspondence: Data gives you common ground with the two Virtual Adepts, your comprehension of Mind and Entropy are entirely through lenses of psychology and sociology. Despite repeated proposals from the Adepts, you'd rather hack into NWO databases for learning materials and raw data needed to enact social Procedures; rather than take lessons in using a laptop to program a traffic jam. Hearing about Paradox backlashes from your new friends has only served to reinforce this attitude. (You still don't know what to think about the notion that Correspondence: Data - and perhaps even your expertise in influencing others - are also varieties of the same True Magick that the Traditions use.)

              Some of the Etherite science piques your interest though, after you realized that some of it could very well be accepted by the Consensus if perfected and made reliable. Plus, it would would definitely be your choice, over pure mysticism or VA reality coding, in regards to increasing your combat capabilities
              Last edited by Muad'Dib; 10-21-2016, 01:45 PM.


              • #22
                24) A group of vigilantes takes over the street. a group of Virtual Adepts who use their 80's gadgets as focus to bring justice to the static reality. Sorry, ever since i saw that music video i used the Killjoys as my local cabal who fights crime.

                Forum's Official's Joker and Trickster. Pardon my bad english, aint my first language (I Speak Spanish).
                ST: DtF, HtR, WtO, MtA
                Signature Chars: Crowley (hakalu), Joe The Nuwisha (WtA)
                Changelings: be afraid of the Technocracian High Five of Doom


                • #23
                  25) An Orphan who was previously a manufactured pop star, that was literally manufactured. Created in a FACADE lab, this genetically engineered teen idol was developed as part of a joint NWO/Syndicate experiment. Would it be possible to create a pop idol that was built from the bottom up to appeal to as wide a mass market as possible, and insert them into the music business seamlessly? Because let's be clear, our idol was vat grown, aged up to a marketable level, and thrown out on stage. Their origins were entirely faked; birth records, school records, and even friends and family were falsified. All to test how effectively the Technocracy could integrate a completely manufactured person into not just the world, but the high exposure world of popular culture. And maybe the Union would use them as a mouthpiece for their agenda, or something.

                  After a whirlwind five years of tours, recordings, posh Hollywood parties, publicity appearances, paparazzi, and a multi-million dollar merchandising campaign, our idol reached their "twenty first" year, and promptly fell apart. Not literally (thankfully), but emotionally. Turns out force-feeding their brain with all the knowledge they'd need did not actually equip their creation with the ability to deal with the real world. Let alone the drugs, sex, and drama of stardom. The idol had an nervous breakdown on a talk show, and their handlers ushered them away for treatment. After a stint in rehab, they returned to the outside with the adoring public having moved on to some other manufactured pop sensation, the music industry uninterested in a washed up idol with barely any talent (did we mention they could hardly sing, and had no instrumental training?), and the Technocratic Union having long since filed their data and written off the project as a waste of time. Which it was. The Union so didn't care about their creation that, due to a clerical error, they never sent anyone to pick the idol up from rehab.

                  One must understand that our idol didn't actually realize up until now they were created in a lab. Their memories were fabricated as well to ensure they never spilled the truth. Not having anyone who really cared about them, they hitch-hiked back "home". When they found that their supposed childhood home was a model house, purchased in the off chance the idol's handlers needed to stage a "homecoming" or whatever, our idol's programmed memories broke down, and the hidden ones cropped up. Memories of floating in a tank, being strapped to a sleep teaching machine, being tested by FACADE doctors. Such a surge of horrible visions - and the unmistakable truth that their life was a complete lie - caused the distraught idol to Awaken, right there in the model home. The building burned down that day, the idol wandering off in a shell-shocked haze.

                  Nowadays, the former idol wanders from town to town, leveraging their social skills, good looks, and modest musical talent to get buy. They are learning how to actually perform music - its history and craft are quite fascinating to them, once the glamour of showbusiness is peeled away. They use Art of Desire, Gutter Magick, and a bit of Crazy Wisdom to get by. They want to better themselves, and become more than just a prop. They also harbor more than a little antipathy towards the Technocratic Union, and the soul less Syndicate and NWO agents who toyed with their life, such that it was. For this reason - and more than a little Hollywood PTSD - they work to avoid being recognized as the washed up has-been they are. If they are going to live their own life, and get back at the Union, what the Technocracy forgot needs to stay forgotten.


                  • #24
                    26) A student of ancient Middle Eastern studies digs up tablets dating to the age of the fertile crescent city states. He found the tablets in a stretch of desert, following up a rumor on a house buried in the sand, where no signs of civilization (ancient or otherwise) ought to exist. A translation from Babylonian reveals the tablets pertain to an ancient god, whose name and description match no known deity. Etched onto the tablets were poems and charms, as well as instructions for a ritual used to commune with the god.

                    No professors or university officials believe in the validity of the tablets, downplaying the possibility that it was a long-lost deity, forgotten by history. Left with a lot of research no one took seriously, the student contemplated the ritual. His dreams were filled by visions of a city state lost to time, and of flowers, the sun, and great beasts. He grew obsessed with this enigmatic figure. Eventually, seeking catharsis for all the efforts invested in the project, ritually purified himself and performed the ritual on the site he found the tablets. At the culmination of the rite, the student was struck with a vision from that long forgotten god.

                    The deity was surprised anyone remembered him, and was impressed by the man's admirable efforts at ritual fidelity. He thanked the mortal for giving the time of day to a dead god, and imparted ancient Occult wisdom and visions of the future to him. The man awoke from his vision Enlightened, his senses expanded and his grasp increased. He could act the Seer, and felt the ebb and flow of the forces of sun, wind, and rain. However, he also began to see the world around him for what it really was: a place filled with monsters, and terrible gods, and people like him, but with great power and influence. He realized that he could not walk in this world as a Mage alone. He needed training, resources...and a Patron. A divine Patron.

                    Now he is a High Ritual Magician and Priest, the lone worshiper of a long forgotten god. But he aims to change that. At the moment, he also seeks alliance with Mages whose methods and talents mirror his own. The Order of Hermes, Celestial Chorus, and Cult of Ecstasy all have their own merits and flaws, and so his decision is yet to come.


                    • #25
                      27) You dropped out of studying biophysics after going to a circus show with your girlfriend. After enjoying the show so very much, and seeing how your girlfriend was impressed by the performers, you decided that - whether you will be a clown or an acrobat - circus is where you want to be, right there on stage.

                      You Awakened a decade later, while leading a ten-clowns-juggling act that you subtly altered in real-time, to honor your now-wife...and to synchronize the show with a group of spirits flying - or floating - around the circus, who were frantically flying in the air above the audience - fleeing from gathering demonic hawks and harpies. As audience exploded in ovations and the ringmaster cried your name, you let your seven balls drop and roll one by one to form a perfect squared triangle - into which the flying spirits entered, protected from the demons.
                      That night, you communed with those spirits that dwell in your circus, and you were enlightened about the battles for reality - how magic and charm get stiffed by representatives reason and science, how mages enslave the incarnations of laugh and carefree, and how enigmatic creatures pull strings of the world from the shadows. Although you realized that through your excellence and love of performing you are now able to change reality, you grimly decided that having power is more important - especially for the sake of survival. Tangible, practical power. Around 3 AM, all alone - the spirits went to sleep to recuperate - you desperately lit a series of black candles while performing a knife juggling act for several hours...The flashing blades regularly sliced your hands in neat lines, and the floor under you was slick with blood. Shortly afterwards, the circus took a hellish aspect, and a razor toothed man in a colorful gentleman's suit greeted you. "You tried to call the devil from below, not knowing that you can always count on the devil within, who lives in your shadow and sleeps in all mirrors."

                      After tutelage and training with your Avatar, you have established yourself as a cautious and self-sufficient True Mage - you don't need the help of the so-called Traditions, as your performance art is more than enough inspiration to work Magick. (And those Mages you met showed only the barest interest in trying to help spirits.) Through use of mirrors you can gaze in distant places, and no tricks surprise you. Your toothed friend promised that eventually you will be able to act as a whole clown troupe. Juggling and other impressive acts provide a medium through which you can perceive and aid spirits - including calming down those that are hostile and/or afraid. Risky (to say it lightly) acts attract mysterious voices who provide you with maddening half-truths in dreams. Through adopting different stage personalities and masks, and using the power of songs, rhymes and simple gestures, you can read and influence the minds of humans.

                      You showed your wife some of what you can do with mirrors; but the spirits of the circus are too shy to meet her, and she dismisses your influence over people as merely "Good hunches and characterization."...As far as she is concerned, mirrors are apparently somehow magical and "That is all there is to it.".
                      Her skepticism worries you. With no aid from other humans - because if not your wife, then what other human could stand by you? - you are afraid you won't be able to protect the spirits you know and yourself from the demons, if they return.
                      Last edited by Muad'Dib; 12-01-2017, 08:44 AM.


                      • #26
                        28) A Chorister and member of the Alexandrian Society, he subscribes to C.S. Lewis's conception of the Paradisal Man. That being, the state of humanity prior to the Fall - in perfect command of their faculties, and with a fundamental Nature entirely and effortlessly devoted to God. But with the Fall, came the transfiguration of Man's Nature into that of the weak, self-centered being it is today, subordinate to beastial urges and able to turn to God only with great effort. With this change in Nature, a loss of command of one's body.

                        This Chorister fancies himself a Christian Alchemist. He proposes that Paradisal Man had in him the capacity to not only perfectly control his own body, but the world around him. That the Paradisal Man acted as a gardener in Eden, changing things as God ordered and as the Paradisal Man happened to need. With the Fall, these functions were closed off...yet, sometimes, God in his infinite wisdom sees fit to loosen these restrictions within certain individuals ("Mages"). As such, this Chorister pursues not merely a physical alchemy - he is a Chemistry professor by day - but also a spiritual alchemy (some propose there is no true Alchemy that is not spiritual at its core). Through contemplation, prayer, and a persistent attempt to lead a moral lifestyle, he hopes to refine his sickly Nature, and strengthen his soul. He seeks to know God, and through this have the Lord's holy flame purify his spirit. Transmuting his post-Fall Nature into something more akin to the Nature of Paradisal Man, and gaining the power (and, more importantly, the wisdom and obedience to the Lord) that exalted predecessor once enjoyed.


                        • #27
                          [Whoops, a second Alchemist in as many posts. Oh well. Also, fans familiar with Promethean: The Created will find something familiar about this. I have been reading the books lately.]

                          29) Her maker never expected her to amount to much. Having mastered the flesh and the mind, it came time to test the matter of the soul, and she was the test subject. Not even a homunculus, as was the creator's forte, but rather a Frankenstein assembled from body parts. It would be less time consuming that way. She was never meant to be his magnum opus. More a proof of concept. Another set of hands to add to the managarie of constructs.

                          So it came as some surprise when she not only expressed interest in her creator's work - Alchemy - but that she took to it like a fish to water. The creator was busy, so if one of his experiments wanted to leaf through his library, he didn't care. And if she could do some of the more basic lab tasks (simple work any hedge alchemist could do), all the better. The creator could focus on his work.

                          How shocked then were both of them when the little Frankenstein's monster Awakened? The doctor was incensed; he'd by this time created his magnum opus - his most brilliant and aesthetically perfect homunculus - yet his minor project succeeded beyond what his greatest work had yet done. It was senseless. Fed up with it all, the creator cast his creation out the door. It was only later, when his magnum opus stubbornly refused to Awaken, that he wondered if he shouldn't have opened up the corpse-girl's brain to figure out what made her so special. That was a mistake that needed rectifying.

                          For her part, the patchwork alchemist was stymied. Her greatest sources of knowledge were cut from her, leaving her only with her own notes and the lab coat on her back. She wandered for a while, baffled by the mortal world around her. She'd been sheltered in her maker's lab, and knew little of how regular humans acted (she had, after all, had very warped examples to learn from). As she searched for new masters to learn from and alchemical texts to study, she took to observing humanity. She didn't know how to be human, and figured that the first step to becoming gold was to become lead. She needed to learn how to be human, before she could surpass humanity.

                          Her magick is a mix of classical European alchemy and Yoga. She learned that, by controlling her body, she could manipulate various properties within herself, such as temperature, metabolism, hormone balance, and the flow of bodily humors and excretions. Her body may be cobbled together from several different people, but it was nonetheless a crucible for transmuting elements. If she could control the conditions within it, she could effect greater control over how alchemical reagents she ingested or applied could react. Perhaps if she could bring her body into alignment, she could realign her malformed humanity. If she could perfect her corpus, her soul would follow.

                          If nothing else, the world outside is interesting and fun. Now, if only her creator would leave her to her Great Work...
                          Last edited by Bluecho; 11-22-2016, 02:23 AM.


                          • #28
                            30) Uncle Freddy is creepy, old freak of a Marauder who just wants to have children of his very own. Never caring for the sounds of a screaming baby or toddler, he has decided to adopt instead. And by adopt, immediately swoop up the first newly Awakened Mortal he can find and make him/her his apprentice and adopted child. The training will be dangerous, but what the child will learn will make up for it in Uncle Freddy's eyes. All he wants is for new Marauder to bring him in a new "child" in return for his training.
                            Last edited by Yaoi Huntress Earth; 01-25-2017, 02:53 PM.

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                            • #29
                              31) It's not that he didn't love his wife. Nor did he want to grow distant from her or their children. But, when he took to studying the occult in his adulthood, he couldn't put the books down. There would be time next week to spend time with the wife and kids...or next month. He was an old man when he was told that his wife had passed away, and his children had all moved on and had children of their own.

                              In a cruel irony, the Awakening he'd sought for decades in study, had come in a flash of grief.

                              Now he's an old man, with great magical power, and all he can think about is how he squandered his precious time. He doesn't want to make that same mistake again. He still has family, though they aren't happy with his neglect. He wants to win them back; he needs to. He's not as spry as he used to be, and he wasn't all that athletic to begin with. But he's got experience, magick, and a potent Will born of years of quiet, solitary training. This old man - this foolish, foolish old man - is still Magus Rex. He's still a Wizard, dammit.


                              • #30
                                32) An 12-year-old Son of Ether who has been a mage for six years and now has an open-minded adult apprentice. (That is at least three times his age.)

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