Difference between revisions of "Artisan"
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| cell2 = #000000 | | cell2 = #000000 | ||
| name = Artisan | | name = Artisan | ||
| − | | player = | + | | player = N/A |
| image = ArtisanLife.jpeg | | image = ArtisanLife.jpeg | ||
| − | | caption = " | + | | caption = "Don't put me on a partisan, I am he, the one called Artisan." -The First Artisan |
| realname = Unknown | | realname = Unknown | ||
| alias = The Mime, Rhyme, Artisan | | alias = The Mime, Rhyme, Artisan | ||
| Line 26: | Line 26: | ||
| relatives = None | | relatives = None | ||
| age = Unknown | | age = Unknown | ||
| − | | height = 5' | + | | height = 5' 11" |
| weight = 145 Lbs. | | weight = 145 Lbs. | ||
| eyes = Black | | eyes = Black | ||
| Line 68: | Line 68: | ||
[[File:Cooltextartisan.png|center]] | [[File:Cooltextartisan.png|center]] | ||
| − | <center>This page consists of information concerning the original Artisan. For information concerning the Second Artisan, please consult | + | <center>This page consists of information concerning the original Artisan. For information concerning the Second Artisan, please consult this link: [[Artisan (Female)]]</center> |
''"I am scarred. My voice, my face, my entire life; Filled with the wickedest of strife. The twisted metal was made my bed, and everyone had gone; left me for dead. It was that gift given to me, that gift that saved me. Don't put me on a partisan, I am he, the one called Artisan."'' -The First Artisan | ''"I am scarred. My voice, my face, my entire life; Filled with the wickedest of strife. The twisted metal was made my bed, and everyone had gone; left me for dead. It was that gift given to me, that gift that saved me. Don't put me on a partisan, I am he, the one called Artisan."'' -The First Artisan | ||
| + | |||
| + | =<font color="white">Biography</font>= | ||
| + | <i>Forwarning: This section, Biography, is purely OOC information. Unless he himself has told you of his past, this information is not know to the public. Thank you.</I> | ||
| + | |||
| + | ==<font color="white">Early Life</font>== | ||
| + | Micheal MacGregor was always strange, even as a child. When other kids were out playing with their dogs and their friends, Micheal stayed inside, locked in his room. Some of the local kids began circulating rumors about what went on inside that room of his. Theories ranged from obsessive Video Game playing to acts Murder. But all the stories had the same effect and soon he was an outcast. No one wanted to be talk to, let alone be near, the Boy From the Room. | ||
| + | |||
| + | They might have been shocked to know what he was actually doing inside that room on the second floor of the MacGregor place. Micheal... was creating poetry. No one really knew that this strange kid had an artistic side, because no one ever took the time to know him. But that didn't bother little Micheal. He was happy enough for the solitude and the quiet that he needed to write and put the almost lyrical words inside his heart onto paper. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Time passes, as it always does. Micheal's home life wasn't great growing up. His father was the stereotypical drunk, and his appearance outside of Micheal's door always gave the young man pause. And in that pause he waited, waited for the sounds of footsteps walking away. He waited for the sound of his father leaving. But those sounds never came. Instead, the only sound he would hear nearly every week was the sound of his door being shoved open, of a belt sliding from its loops and flying through the air. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The budding artist eventually escaped the Hell he called home, running away at the age of fifteen. He traveled the country, working the odd job whenever he needed some cash. Believe it or not, he actually joined a circus. He was a clown and a juggler. Pretty good one too. He enjoyed making people laugh and smile. But... it wasn't enough. Disappearing once again, he made his way to Millennium City, where he took to the streets as a Performer. A Mime. A short time later, he had become almost a regular sight in Westside, performing for the people who walked by everyday. But not everyone enjoyed the Street Mimes antics. | ||
| + | |||
| + | ==<font color="white">The Purple Gang and Death</font>== | ||
| + | |||
| + | The Purple Gang had been watching this 'clown' for a while. Learning how much money he would make each day, and how at the end of the week, he'd deposit it all inside a savings account. And a few of them got the idea to extort the freak. A 'Protection Fee' for the right to continue preforming. A group of five formulated a plan to corner the Mime in one of the abandoned buildings and... 'explain' things to him. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The fateful night arrived, and as Micheal was walking home, he found himself suddenly being manhandled, dragged into a nearby building. Standing in the center of a room, he clutched his back of money and props to his chest. The goons around him smiled, their leader walking forward and beginning to explain how things were going to go around here from now on. Once the head goon had finished, he asked the Mime what he thought about that proposal. Micheal's response was to knock out the goon's front teeth with one of his juggling bowling pins. The other thugs went silent in shock, allowing Micheal to make a dash for the door. | ||
| + | |||
| + | He didn't get far before he was gunned down. His bullet riddled body was found by two local boys looking for somewhere to tag. A brief obituary ran in the next days paper, listing the name of the Mime as Unknown. A followup article described the crime in detail, stating that no witnesses or evidence could be found to indicate who could have done this heinous crime. | ||
| + | |||
| + | ==<font color="white">The Birth of Artisan</font>== | ||
| + | |||
| + | It wasn't until a year later that the hero who called himself Artisan was seen. This green jacket wearing rhyme speaker entered the world of heroing rather quickly, but made a name for himself within Westside in a very short period of time. He was frequently seen dealing justice out to members of the Purple Gang, sometimes ignoring a few of their numbers to go after single targets. The ones he chased down and dragged into the shadows were never heard or seen from again. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Some called him a wrathful spirit. A type of judgement for those that had participated in the murder of that once beloved street mime. No one could ever prove it, but the locals all knew the Purple Gang ad done the deed, however no evidence could ever be found that it was them. But that didn't stop Artisan. Many a Purple Gang member came to fear the soft whistling tune that announced the approach of the White-Masked vigilante... | ||
| + | |||
| + | Until he stopped appearing. For two years, no one heard or saw a sign of Artisan. A majority had thought he'd finished his task, and now... now he was resting, his vengeance finally completed. | ||
| + | |||
| + | ==<font color="white">Then There was Another...</font>== | ||
| + | |||
| + | Three years after his disappearance, sightings started to come in once again. People reported that a hero wearing black and green was taking down members of the Purple Gang and the Maniacs alike. Some thought this was the return of Artisan, but others were not convinced. Witnesses, who had seen the individual in question, reported that the figure was smaller, more feminine in size... Whether or not Artisan had returned, now there was someone or something else patrolling the streets. | ||
=<font color="white">Appearance</font>= | =<font color="white">Appearance</font>= | ||
| Line 88: | Line 120: | ||
*Type Four Immortality: Artisan can live forever, but can be killed by standard means and returns to life afterwards after a short period of time. | *Type Four Immortality: Artisan can live forever, but can be killed by standard means and returns to life afterwards after a short period of time. | ||
| + | |||
| + | *Teleportation: Artisan was believed to posses the power of teleportation, giving several accounts of him appearing from the shadows. Whether or not he actually possessed this power is unknown. | ||
=<font color="white">Equipment</font>= | =<font color="white">Equipment</font>= | ||
| + | *Artisan Outfit: It was thought that his costume, consisting mainly of a Black Bowler Hat, White Mask, and Green Jacket had some sort of ballistic weave that protected him from bullets or other thrown projectiles. | ||
| + | |||
| + | *Electric Batons: Used in almost every conflict he was in, Artisan wielded a pair of batons with electrified tips. | ||
=<font color="white">Impressions</font>= | =<font color="white">Impressions</font>= | ||
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<br style="clear:both"> | <br style="clear:both"> | ||
</div></div></div></div> | </div></div></div></div> | ||
Latest revision as of 08:02, 9 February 2017
| Artisan | ||||||||||
| Player: N/A | ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| "Don't put me on a partisan, I am he, the one called Artisan." -The First Artisan | ||||||||||
| Biographical Data | ||||||||||
| Real Name: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Known Aliases: | The Mime, Rhyme, Artisan | |||||||||
| Gender: | Male | |||||||||
| Species: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Ethnicity: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Place of Birth: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Base of Operations: | None | |||||||||
| Relatives: | None | |||||||||
| Characteristics | ||||||||||
| Age: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Height: | 5' 11" | |||||||||
| Weight: | 145 Lbs. | |||||||||
| Eyes: | Black | |||||||||
| Hair: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Complexion: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Physical Build: | Slim, Atheletic | |||||||||
| Physical Features: | Always wears a mask | |||||||||
| Status | ||||||||||
| Fame: |
Unknown | |||||||||
| Alignment: |
| |||||||||
| Identity: | Public | |||||||||
| Years Active: | 3 1/2 | |||||||||
| Citizenship: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Occupation: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Education: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Marital Status: | Unknown | |||||||||
| Known Powers and Abilities | ||||||||||
| Probability Manipulation | ||||||||||
| Equipment and Paraphernalia | ||||||||||
| 'Artisan' Costume | ||||||||||
| Physical Attributes | |||||||||
| Strength |
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Weapon |
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|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Durability |
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Armor |
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| Speed |
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Reflexes |
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| Resistance |
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Stamina |
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| Dexterity |
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Agility |
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| Combat |
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Regen |
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| Non-Physical Attributes | |||||||||
| Energy |
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Psionics |
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|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Telepathy |
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Willpower |
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| Sorcery |
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Tech. |
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| Intel. |
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Knowledge |
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| Charisma |
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Bravery |
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| MaekadaBoxSlim created by @Maekada | |||||||||
"I am scarred. My voice, my face, my entire life; Filled with the wickedest of strife. The twisted metal was made my bed, and everyone had gone; left me for dead. It was that gift given to me, that gift that saved me. Don't put me on a partisan, I am he, the one called Artisan." -The First Artisan
Contents
Biography
Forwarning: This section, Biography, is purely OOC information. Unless he himself has told you of his past, this information is not know to the public. Thank you.
Early Life
Micheal MacGregor was always strange, even as a child. When other kids were out playing with their dogs and their friends, Micheal stayed inside, locked in his room. Some of the local kids began circulating rumors about what went on inside that room of his. Theories ranged from obsessive Video Game playing to acts Murder. But all the stories had the same effect and soon he was an outcast. No one wanted to be talk to, let alone be near, the Boy From the Room.
They might have been shocked to know what he was actually doing inside that room on the second floor of the MacGregor place. Micheal... was creating poetry. No one really knew that this strange kid had an artistic side, because no one ever took the time to know him. But that didn't bother little Micheal. He was happy enough for the solitude and the quiet that he needed to write and put the almost lyrical words inside his heart onto paper.
Time passes, as it always does. Micheal's home life wasn't great growing up. His father was the stereotypical drunk, and his appearance outside of Micheal's door always gave the young man pause. And in that pause he waited, waited for the sounds of footsteps walking away. He waited for the sound of his father leaving. But those sounds never came. Instead, the only sound he would hear nearly every week was the sound of his door being shoved open, of a belt sliding from its loops and flying through the air.
The budding artist eventually escaped the Hell he called home, running away at the age of fifteen. He traveled the country, working the odd job whenever he needed some cash. Believe it or not, he actually joined a circus. He was a clown and a juggler. Pretty good one too. He enjoyed making people laugh and smile. But... it wasn't enough. Disappearing once again, he made his way to Millennium City, where he took to the streets as a Performer. A Mime. A short time later, he had become almost a regular sight in Westside, performing for the people who walked by everyday. But not everyone enjoyed the Street Mimes antics.
The Purple Gang and Death
The Purple Gang had been watching this 'clown' for a while. Learning how much money he would make each day, and how at the end of the week, he'd deposit it all inside a savings account. And a few of them got the idea to extort the freak. A 'Protection Fee' for the right to continue preforming. A group of five formulated a plan to corner the Mime in one of the abandoned buildings and... 'explain' things to him.
The fateful night arrived, and as Micheal was walking home, he found himself suddenly being manhandled, dragged into a nearby building. Standing in the center of a room, he clutched his back of money and props to his chest. The goons around him smiled, their leader walking forward and beginning to explain how things were going to go around here from now on. Once the head goon had finished, he asked the Mime what he thought about that proposal. Micheal's response was to knock out the goon's front teeth with one of his juggling bowling pins. The other thugs went silent in shock, allowing Micheal to make a dash for the door.
He didn't get far before he was gunned down. His bullet riddled body was found by two local boys looking for somewhere to tag. A brief obituary ran in the next days paper, listing the name of the Mime as Unknown. A followup article described the crime in detail, stating that no witnesses or evidence could be found to indicate who could have done this heinous crime.
The Birth of Artisan
It wasn't until a year later that the hero who called himself Artisan was seen. This green jacket wearing rhyme speaker entered the world of heroing rather quickly, but made a name for himself within Westside in a very short period of time. He was frequently seen dealing justice out to members of the Purple Gang, sometimes ignoring a few of their numbers to go after single targets. The ones he chased down and dragged into the shadows were never heard or seen from again.
Some called him a wrathful spirit. A type of judgement for those that had participated in the murder of that once beloved street mime. No one could ever prove it, but the locals all knew the Purple Gang ad done the deed, however no evidence could ever be found that it was them. But that didn't stop Artisan. Many a Purple Gang member came to fear the soft whistling tune that announced the approach of the White-Masked vigilante...
Until he stopped appearing. For two years, no one heard or saw a sign of Artisan. A majority had thought he'd finished his task, and now... now he was resting, his vengeance finally completed.
Then There was Another...
Three years after his disappearance, sightings started to come in once again. People reported that a hero wearing black and green was taking down members of the Purple Gang and the Maniacs alike. Some thought this was the return of Artisan, but others were not convinced. Witnesses, who had seen the individual in question, reported that the figure was smaller, more feminine in size... Whether or not Artisan had returned, now there was someone or something else patrolling the streets.
Appearance
- White Face Mask: Most significant feature, as an Artisan is always seen with it on.
- Green Jacket: Second most noticeable feature, it seems to be an ordinary jacket.
Personality
He speaks in rhymes, whenever he does talk. and some of them don't make too much sense. But he seems to be a nice guy. You know, for a mask-wearing, rhyme-speaking mime vigilante. He also seems to posses a type of chivalry that is out of date with the modern world.
Abilities and Powers
- Luck: Artisan is gifted with an automatic infinite supply of luckiness, he has no control over this power as things considered "lucky" just randomly happen to him. Ergo, nothing bad will happen or if it does then his power will always sort it out and keep the "lucky" side of the scale the heaviest.
- Type Four Immortality: Artisan can live forever, but can be killed by standard means and returns to life afterwards after a short period of time.
- Teleportation: Artisan was believed to posses the power of teleportation, giving several accounts of him appearing from the shadows. Whether or not he actually possessed this power is unknown.
Equipment
- Artisan Outfit: It was thought that his costume, consisting mainly of a Black Bowler Hat, White Mask, and Green Jacket had some sort of ballistic weave that protected him from bullets or other thrown projectiles.
- Electric Batons: Used in almost every conflict he was in, Artisan wielded a pair of batons with electrified tips.
Impressions
Feel Free to put what you think of Artisan here.
"I think he's kinda weird. He talks real funny sometimes, but he always seems to be a nice guy." - SEAM
"Artisan? I don't know any Artisa- Wait, the Mime? With the Mask? Yeah I know him, not much of a talker." - Wheezer
Other Facts
Gallery
