Post by Detaryu on Feb 3, 2022 5:15:14 GMT
Glitch
Prototype Cyborg Chimera - Genderless (They/Them) - Age 14
Level 2 || 0%
Racial Points Earned/Spent || 6/6
Class Points Earned/Spent || 2/0
Pages || 1,400
[Bonuses to rolls]
N/A
[EQUIPMENT]
[PTabbedContent=Bio]
[PTab=Racials/Universals]
RACE: Prototype Cyborg Chimera
A creature made of both flesh and metal, from a world of both magic and technology, Prototype Cyborgs are designed to be learning computers as well as improvements to pre-existing biological entities. As a prototype, there's not a set model you really run on, both for hardware or software, so you're pretty adaptable to whatever parts and programs you manage to pick up along the way. Your mental software is ever evolving, and your physical hardware can be upgraded and swapped out as you go, though you can still smell, taste, touch, hear, and bleed.
STARTING RACIAL SLOT 1 - Cyborg’s Antivirus - Normal computer antivirus defenses don’t cut it for you, you’ve got something resembling an organic brain left in there. This handy dandy software lets you use Intelligence instead of Perspicacity for any mental/psyche saving throws.
STARTING RACIAL SLOT 2 - Scrapyard Survivor [Enhanced Durability] - You’ve been battered, broken, discarded, and picked clean for salvage.. Yet you still found the strength to put yourself back together. You’re no ordinary Cyborg, and it takes a lot to keep you down. You feel no pain, even at the detriment of being unable to know when you’re pushing yourself too far, but your body will eventually refuse. (You cannot override being in critical condition, for example - at least not as you are, but you can continue to function otherwise as long as you aren’t mechanically compromised.)
PURCHASED RACIAL SLOT 1 - EMPTY
-------
UNIVERSALS
Loose Cannon - Your primary weapon has had it's safety features broken, but you can make the most of that. You may spend a main action charging your cannon, adding the successes to it's blast on the next turn, but if ANYTHING manages to damage you before you shoot, the charge will backfire and blow up in your face. Perhaps with some repairs and better control over your power, you can lower the risk of backfire, or be able to cancel the charge.
Pro-Binary - Non-binary? What are you talking about? Binary is your preferred language. As long as nothing is intercepting your signal, you’re able to communicate with any binary compatible machinery, enabling you to attempt to silently input commands (given you can figure them out) from a short distance and easily speak to other AI from close range. (If something contests you, this signal is based on INT) Your wireless signals are still pretty weak (about 15 feet in radius), but you might be able to repair or upgrade them later.
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[PTab=Information]
Homeworld - The Cradle
Glitch is a verbally silent, observant and calculating being, unable to empathize but able to understand.
Their actual origins are a little... fuzzy, and they certainly don't seem to want to talk much, but they're very willing to listen, very interested in learning.
They seem to be very interested in puzzles, things that stimulate their mind.
If not prompted, they tend to just sort of... stand there, blank stare, waiting.
They stand about 5'4" tall, scrawny, with a dark visor in their face to display pixelated expressions, cracked over the right side and the display coming through glitched. Their metal legs are not in full casings, their arms are better plated, and there's casing protected cords running from the back of their neck down their right arm as well as down the spine, ending in a long metal tail that hides a port that can plug into electrical or magical power sources to allow them to recharge.
As they run low on power, they get glitchier and more physically jerky and twitchy, sparking and struggling to remain coordinated.
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[PTab=History]
Glitch began as a medical experiment, a project to create an artificial intelligence that could take on the intelligence of organic beings, be more than a computer, adapt to a body made of lab grown components. A project meant to provide insight on creating new limbs for amputees, provide new eyes to the mechanically blind, repair even small and fragile organic pieces - to provide insight on what makes a creature 'alive' and bridge the forming gap between the organic sapient life and the rising artificial intelligence in a progressing society.
They showed great promise and potential through all initial tests and assessments, quick to learn and responsive to any and all basic prompts, learning language quickly, learning to mimic emotions and when they were appropriate to display, much like a child would.
But it remained just.. mimicry. Learning to copy and repeat, not how to do so unprompted. Their progress plateaued as quickly as it skyrocketed, to the immense disappointment of the facility they were produced by, and to the detriment of their sponsorship.
Though Glitch could not properly empathize, they could recognize that their caretakers and creators were upset, and sought to improve their results to make their 'family' proud. With little resistance from the computer based security system of their facility, that was by no means designed to deal with a rapidly growing learning computer, they escaped in a childlike hope to learn that which their caretakers were unable to teach them.
Unfortunately, no one had told Glitch about motorized vehicles. In the dead of night, they fell victim to a speeding driver, thrown onto the asphalt in a mess of sparks and blood. The driver, terrified of facing the consequences of vehicular manslaughter of a child, threw their body into a nearby dumpster and fled the scene of the crime. Buried in refuse, their speaker broken and operating system crashed, the Cyborg Chimera was driven off to the scrapyard with all the other trash, dumped and forgotten.
Left to be picked clean for salvage by whatever broken fellow AI had been left to rot and rust in the place that no one comes to save you.
As their system kicked on the backup power supply and attempted a reboot, they found themselves missing limbs, broken and cracked, bloodied and bruised, but able to force their body to move. They tried calling out for help, but their broken voice could no longer speak, only emitting crackles, clicks and whirrs, droning hums. They could still see, but felt the visor welded to their skull cracked. They could still hear, but found their transmitter sorely limited in it's input and output range. So, with their cannon in hand (Why.. do they have this? Weren't they meant to be a learning AI? Or... no, they remember target practice... Perhaps a test of their coordination? Ability to direct their power?) and a stub of a hand long since removed, they used the power they had left to drag themselves through the trash, the mess and the scraps, and put themselves back together with what little they could find.
Stumbling, running on fumes.
Something about them felt wrong, though they could not place what. Like they were inhibiting their own comprehension or understanding of themselves, and their purposes, their directives and purposes.
But there was no time for such concepts, as they found another abandoned, rejected robotic brother. Glitch attempted to speak again, but still found their voice broken. They instead attempted to reach out via their transmitter, and to their relief, found it able to connect - and to their dismay, found the other unwilling to listen, seeking them only for further salvage, for more parts, to rebuild themselves.
Take or be taken apart.
.......
It's been a few months, now.
They have taken only the trophies they could make use of from their traitorous, uncaring brethren. Carried everything they're able that they can make use out of, kept moving, harder to catch if they never stay in one place.
Eventually, in the rubble, they even found a little obnoxiously beeping circle.. Oh! A toy? Wait... Something is strange about this toy.
Hello?
Oh!
Your don't know your name? It's okay, I can give you one.
You sort of look like a little insect, round with these little stray pieces on the side, bits of stringy plastic stuck to your seams..
Your name is Bug.
At least they're not alone, now. Bug likes to talk, and they like to listen.
But it's been such a while now that they've been out here... No one has come looking for them.
And they're running very, very low on stolen power.
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[/PTabbedContent={animation:slide; background-color:#0022D5; font-weight:}]
Prototype Cyborg Chimera - Genderless (They/Them) - Age 14
Level 2 || 0%
Racial Points Earned/Spent || 6/6
Class Points Earned/Spent || 2/0
Pages || 1,400
[STATS]
Stat Name | Starting | Racial | Race Cap | Equipment | Universals/Traits | Boons | Class | Total | Roll |
Robustness | 0 | 0 | 5 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1d10 |
Deftness | 0 | 0 | 25 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1d10 |
Vitality | 7 | 0 | 50 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 7 | 2d10+2 |
Intelligence | 7 | 1 | 75 | 1 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 9 | 2d10+4 |
Perspicacity | 0 | 0 | 25 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1d10 |
Appeal | 0 | 0 | 5 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1d10 |
Luck | 1 | 0 | 25 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1 | 1d100 |
N/A
[EQUIPMENT]
Slot | Item | Stat | Effects/Abilities |
Helmet | Metal Helmet | N/A | A worn metal helmet that covers down the back and sides of your head. It isn't the best, but it's still.. y'know, metal, it keeps your noggin safer. |
Shoulder Pads | Discarded Backpack | N/A | Just a backpack, salvaged from the junk of the scrapyard. Still holds together pretty sturdy, about the size of a highschool backpack. |
Torso | Dirty Jacket | N/A | A stained, hole-y jacket that looks like it used to be a pretty ebony with gold trim, once upon a better time. |
Gloves | |||
Ring 1L | |||
Ring 2L | |||
Ring 1R | |||
Ring 2R | |||
Belt | V-Pet clip | N/A | A clip to hold a little tamagotchi-esque v-pet at your side. |
Pants | Old Hydraulic Legs | +1 Intelligence | The bare bones of a pair of mechanical legs you salvaged from the scrapyard. They safely cap out at about 1,000 lbs of pressure each, any more and they're going to start falling apart. It should be said that just because these can withstand the pressure they output doesn't mean the rest of your body can, they take a lot of power, and they're pretty slow as presses - using them (not for movement actions, only the hydraulic cylinders) is based on Intelligence. |
Boots | |||
Accessory 1 | Tattered Scrap | N/A | A dirty, frayed, and torn scrap of cloth tied loosely around your neck. It looks like it used to be a dark green, but it's mostly charred and bloodstained by now. |
Accessory 2 | |||
Main Weapon | Cybernetic Cannon | N/A | The only part of you that you kept from being broken or stolen. This piece of hardware slots over your right arm, channeling electrical power and psionics to allow you to shoot a blast of energy based on Intelligence. |
Secondary Weapon | Scrap Sheet Metal | N/A | A chunk of banged up and dented metal that's had a bent bar welded onto it as a handle, allowing it to be used as a somewhat effective shield. |
[PTabbedContent=Bio]
[PTab=Racials/Universals]
RACE: Prototype Cyborg Chimera
A creature made of both flesh and metal, from a world of both magic and technology, Prototype Cyborgs are designed to be learning computers as well as improvements to pre-existing biological entities. As a prototype, there's not a set model you really run on, both for hardware or software, so you're pretty adaptable to whatever parts and programs you manage to pick up along the way. Your mental software is ever evolving, and your physical hardware can be upgraded and swapped out as you go, though you can still smell, taste, touch, hear, and bleed.
STARTING RACIAL SLOT 1 - Cyborg’s Antivirus - Normal computer antivirus defenses don’t cut it for you, you’ve got something resembling an organic brain left in there. This handy dandy software lets you use Intelligence instead of Perspicacity for any mental/psyche saving throws.
STARTING RACIAL SLOT 2 - Scrapyard Survivor [Enhanced Durability] - You’ve been battered, broken, discarded, and picked clean for salvage.. Yet you still found the strength to put yourself back together. You’re no ordinary Cyborg, and it takes a lot to keep you down. You feel no pain, even at the detriment of being unable to know when you’re pushing yourself too far, but your body will eventually refuse. (You cannot override being in critical condition, for example - at least not as you are, but you can continue to function otherwise as long as you aren’t mechanically compromised.)
PURCHASED RACIAL SLOT 1 - EMPTY
-------
UNIVERSALS
Loose Cannon - Your primary weapon has had it's safety features broken, but you can make the most of that. You may spend a main action charging your cannon, adding the successes to it's blast on the next turn, but if ANYTHING manages to damage you before you shoot, the charge will backfire and blow up in your face. Perhaps with some repairs and better control over your power, you can lower the risk of backfire, or be able to cancel the charge.
Pro-Binary - Non-binary? What are you talking about? Binary is your preferred language. As long as nothing is intercepting your signal, you’re able to communicate with any binary compatible machinery, enabling you to attempt to silently input commands (given you can figure them out) from a short distance and easily speak to other AI from close range. (If something contests you, this signal is based on INT) Your wireless signals are still pretty weak (about 15 feet in radius), but you might be able to repair or upgrade them later.
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[PTab=Information]
Homeworld - The Cradle
Glitch is a verbally silent, observant and calculating being, unable to empathize but able to understand.
Their actual origins are a little... fuzzy, and they certainly don't seem to want to talk much, but they're very willing to listen, very interested in learning.
They seem to be very interested in puzzles, things that stimulate their mind.
If not prompted, they tend to just sort of... stand there, blank stare, waiting.
They stand about 5'4" tall, scrawny, with a dark visor in their face to display pixelated expressions, cracked over the right side and the display coming through glitched. Their metal legs are not in full casings, their arms are better plated, and there's casing protected cords running from the back of their neck down their right arm as well as down the spine, ending in a long metal tail that hides a port that can plug into electrical or magical power sources to allow them to recharge.
As they run low on power, they get glitchier and more physically jerky and twitchy, sparking and struggling to remain coordinated.
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[PTab=History]
Glitch began as a medical experiment, a project to create an artificial intelligence that could take on the intelligence of organic beings, be more than a computer, adapt to a body made of lab grown components. A project meant to provide insight on creating new limbs for amputees, provide new eyes to the mechanically blind, repair even small and fragile organic pieces - to provide insight on what makes a creature 'alive' and bridge the forming gap between the organic sapient life and the rising artificial intelligence in a progressing society.
They showed great promise and potential through all initial tests and assessments, quick to learn and responsive to any and all basic prompts, learning language quickly, learning to mimic emotions and when they were appropriate to display, much like a child would.
But it remained just.. mimicry. Learning to copy and repeat, not how to do so unprompted. Their progress plateaued as quickly as it skyrocketed, to the immense disappointment of the facility they were produced by, and to the detriment of their sponsorship.
Though Glitch could not properly empathize, they could recognize that their caretakers and creators were upset, and sought to improve their results to make their 'family' proud. With little resistance from the computer based security system of their facility, that was by no means designed to deal with a rapidly growing learning computer, they escaped in a childlike hope to learn that which their caretakers were unable to teach them.
Unfortunately, no one had told Glitch about motorized vehicles. In the dead of night, they fell victim to a speeding driver, thrown onto the asphalt in a mess of sparks and blood. The driver, terrified of facing the consequences of vehicular manslaughter of a child, threw their body into a nearby dumpster and fled the scene of the crime. Buried in refuse, their speaker broken and operating system crashed, the Cyborg Chimera was driven off to the scrapyard with all the other trash, dumped and forgotten.
Left to be picked clean for salvage by whatever broken fellow AI had been left to rot and rust in the place that no one comes to save you.
As their system kicked on the backup power supply and attempted a reboot, they found themselves missing limbs, broken and cracked, bloodied and bruised, but able to force their body to move. They tried calling out for help, but their broken voice could no longer speak, only emitting crackles, clicks and whirrs, droning hums. They could still see, but felt the visor welded to their skull cracked. They could still hear, but found their transmitter sorely limited in it's input and output range. So, with their cannon in hand (Why.. do they have this? Weren't they meant to be a learning AI? Or... no, they remember target practice... Perhaps a test of their coordination? Ability to direct their power?) and a stub of a hand long since removed, they used the power they had left to drag themselves through the trash, the mess and the scraps, and put themselves back together with what little they could find.
Stumbling, running on fumes.
Something about them felt wrong, though they could not place what. Like they were inhibiting their own comprehension or understanding of themselves, and their purposes, their directives and purposes.
But there was no time for such concepts, as they found another abandoned, rejected robotic brother. Glitch attempted to speak again, but still found their voice broken. They instead attempted to reach out via their transmitter, and to their relief, found it able to connect - and to their dismay, found the other unwilling to listen, seeking them only for further salvage, for more parts, to rebuild themselves.
Take or be taken apart.
.......
It's been a few months, now.
They have taken only the trophies they could make use of from their traitorous, uncaring brethren. Carried everything they're able that they can make use out of, kept moving, harder to catch if they never stay in one place.
Eventually, in the rubble, they even found a little obnoxiously beeping circle.. Oh! A toy? Wait... Something is strange about this toy.
Hello?
Oh!
Your don't know your name? It's okay, I can give you one.
You sort of look like a little insect, round with these little stray pieces on the side, bits of stringy plastic stuck to your seams..
Your name is Bug.
At least they're not alone, now. Bug likes to talk, and they like to listen.
But it's been such a while now that they've been out here... No one has come looking for them.
And they're running very, very low on stolen power.
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[/PTabbedContent={animation:slide; background-color:#0022D5; font-weight:}]
[PTabbedContent=Inventory]
[PTab=Consumables]
Food/Drink
Physical Heals
Energy Heals
Status Removers
Revival Items
Buffs/Debuffs
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[PTab=Tools]
Utility
-Cheap Multi-Tool - A basic, mundane multi-tool, but it's kind of stiff and the knife isn't very sharp anymore. It isn't very fancy, but sometimes the basics are useful.
Consumable
Applications
Information/Books
Broken VHS tape - The label is long gone and it's honestly never going to play again. Why did you keep this??
Used Coloring Book - It once held hours of potential fun, offering lots of cute animal scenes for a child to take their favorite crayons for a spin on. Now it's just kind of a book of messy scribbles.
Fuel/Batteries
2 empty, rechargeable V-pet batteries
3 recharged V-pet batteries
Half a quart of used motor oil
Vehicles
Miscellaneous
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[PTab=Materials]
-5 lbs of Scrap Metal
-6inchx6inch sheet of steel
-Fistful of Colorful broken Plastic chips
-1 lb of scrap fabrics
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[PTab=Home and Bills]
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[PTab=Unequipped Equipment]
Weapons
Armor
Ammunition
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[PTab=Miscellaneous]
-Bug - SUPPORT - An AI much like yourself, crammed into a little plastic V-Pet as a last ditch effort to stay alive, so they say. They've been wiped pretty clean, and they can't talk to anyone that can't tap into their wireless signal, but they can beep real obnoxiously and make little pixelated faces on their screen.
They have a 0 in all stats other than Intelligence, which is a 6 (2d10+1) - they're an immobile piece of noisy plastic, they can't exactly do much. Maybe if they get a proper set of body hardware, they could be a mission partner.
PHONE STRAP CHARMS:
-Spinel's Injector - A completely mundane piece of plastic on a little string loop. Looks like Spinel's injector from Steven Universe! Much more up to date than the outdated models left on Earth's Kindergartens. (SU GONE WRONG)
-Snowy Campfire - A mundane plastic charm of a few logs with an orange and red fire on top of a pile of snow to remind you of the time you spent an evening helping warm up a cozy house during a snowstorm. (DND)
[/PTab={background-color:#000830;}]
[/PTabbedContent={animation:slide; background-color:#0022D5; font-weight:}]