medietas_ooc

Entry tags:

!test drive meme

TDM!

T E S T D R I V E M E M E
Welcome to Medietas! Are you interested in joining the game? Have an old muse you want to dust off, or voice test a brand new one in our game setting? Then you've come to the right place!

You all know what to do but if you don’t, just follow the instructions and HAVE FUN!

How To Play:

→ Comment with the character you’d like to test drive. Don’t forget to add their name and canon in the subject line.
→ Choose a scenario, or start your own!
→ Tag around!

Possible Scenarios:

1. New Arrival: You've just arrived on the island of Medietas, in the city of Aerilon via a floating boat, with people you may or may not know. Of course, you can't help wondering what the heck is going on here, or how you even got on the boat, but the vessel seems to be approaching a harbor with what appears to be.. are those floating islands? They sure are! And as if that isn't mind boggling enough, no one seems to have answers. But you are greeted by some lovely locals who offer you a map and a communications device and send you on your way. Perhaps the questions can wait for now. There's a new place to explore!

2. Go Exploring!: There's plenty of places to see, be it in your designated housing area, or on one of the adjoining community islands! Visit the market on Aerilon. Hike the mountains in Eurus. Sit on the beaches of Imber with a cocktail. Adventure in the forests of Mundus. Be careful though! Every area has it's dangers.

3. Party, party!: On the evening of your first night in the city, a party is being thrown on Aerilon in honor of your arrival. Eat, mingle, dance, meet the other new arrivals! The locals put on quite the celebration!

4. Wild Card! Customize your own scenario to fit your needs!

Threaded | Flat

He'd gone to sleep with Claire curled against his side, and Ben splayed out on his chest making the soft, breathy snoring sounds of a sleeping toddler. The combined body heat was uncomfortable, but Galen hadn't wanted to move either of them when they were resting so well, so he'd endured it, and eventually drifted off to sleep himself shortly after the air conditioner clicked on.

When he awoke, it was cold. And he was alone.

By the time the ship landed, he was shaking, barely containing the storm of emotions inside of him; everyone on board was lucky, so very, very lucky he'd worked so hard to discipline himself, fought so hard to control the dark impulses he'd been raised on. At the docks, he stumbled away from the crowd, more wounded animal than man, chest tight and aching. The brave, foolish soul that attempted to hand him his communicator and map found themselves unable to breathe as Galen lifted his hand and used the Force to crush their throat.

"Where," he began in a low, panting growl, "is my son?!"

Edited 2016-04-26 22:39 (UTC)

There are a great many people who come off the boats; a great many of them confused, angry, perhaps some in relief being able to escape some unknown horror that followed them.

And then there's this guy:

Numbly, Weyland stood holding the map and phone in one hand as if it were a dead rat by the tail, looking as if he'd gotten fired from a job without notice or been handed the worst assignment ever or had just walked into his own personal hell/nightmare.

Probably all three.

"Look at all this paperwork..." he moaned.

It had been an hour since Thor arrived, and he was... annoyed. Also, somewhat grumpy.

And possibly also lost.

This city was twisty, and the citizens were not help, as was true of their small phone, which was something like the Midgardian version he had gotten on Jane's advice. Why he needed another one, he did not know, but he had it. It seemed to be rather... small for his hands.

He sighed as he turned again, and walked toward another store. Perhaps here he could learn something useful, and even find directions to this home they had given to him, somewhere.

"This place is mad." His voice was low, and humming with energy, as he opened the door, and stepped in, then looked about. "Excuse me, but I seek directions and information. Could you assist me?"

Chris woke up in a strange boat....docked on a floating island. That was different. He was relatively certain he wasn't Up There, since he'd been Up There and it looked absolutely nothing like this. Plus they didn't usually kidnap people in floating boats. The whole going Up There thing wasn't exactly open entry.

"Alright, who kidnapped me?" Chris crossed his arms and waited for the maniacal evil cackling to begin. "Not cool." Rolling is eyes at the obvious idiocy of this plan, Chris tried to orb back to the Manor. And ended up right back besides the docks, reappearing in blueish white orbs.

"Maybe not such a crappy plan after all..."

This was not his quarters on the Megaship. Andros added security to his never-ending list of things to do on board, in addition to 'find out how someone by-passed Megaship security and drugged him and find out where the hell he was.' Which he wasn't sure. He'd never been to or heard of any planets with floating islands, or floating boats.

Looking down at himself, the ranger did a quick check to make sure nothing was missing. Battlizer, morpher, locket, communicator and pager tucked into his pocket.

Time to look around.

Poetry, Edward had discovered, had a great many uses. The more callous of his kind would have used it to lure women (or men, depending upon tastes) into a sense of false security and warm thrall, only to feed upon them repeatedly until death.

Edward himself had never done so; he'd preferred to feed on the scum of society, after all, and to do it as quickly as possible. It wasn't unheard of among vampires to have dedicated thralls though and many of the great poets and artists were vampires themselves, or cavorted with them.

Carlisle had been such a patron once, though he'd never fed on a human. For Edward, poetry was yet another way to put sorrow into motion, breathe passion into life and put a physical construct to the human soul. Not that he had a soul to put anything to, but the analogy was still solid.

His leatherbound journal was growing more and more ragged the longer he spent in Volterra (it wasn't like he actually needed to do anything—his reason for survival was gone) and the linen paper pages were filled with line after line of increasingly dark works. He'd tried his hand at essays for a few months and interspersed among idle couplets were treatises on vampire ethics and the human ethos, on theories of time and space--anything under the sun.

Today, he'd decided to write his own story in the form of a letter. He'd imagined it addressed to Alice at first and it was full of the dry humor he often traded with his sister. He wrote about his hopes to her, his love to Esme. His deepest fears went to Jasper, his thirst to Emmett. Carlisle got a mix of all of them, tinged with regret.

After writing furiously for a while he looked up and saw his result--ten pages of neat, flowing script that shifted and took a life of its own as it morphed from epistolary to a novel-like narrative.

Of course, the scenery had changed immensely from the cavern in Italy he'd made his home in. This place was a strange one, each island with a different theme, and while he felt nervous in the sun he thought it was for the best. Let them see the monster he was.

Let it be over.

Arrival

To some, the prospect of finding oneself transported without warning to an unfamiliar world could be a terrifying one. To Gem it had become something of an inescapable fact of life. In the past year she had been a resident of three separate worlds, only one of which she had left voluntarily. That was not to say that she didn't feel the bite of anxious uncertainty gnawing at her insides as the boat she was on moved ever closer to the floating island - it was simply being tempered by the slow burning anger ignited by the entire situation. The former program was tired; tired of moving, tired of being toyed with, tired of being reminded of the impermanence of everything in life.

She scarcely spoke to the friendly locals that stepped forward to greet her once the vessel reached its destination and she was allowed to disembark. Her first steps onto relatively solid ground were a bit unsteady, but it didn't take her long to stand to her full height, automatically defaulting to the stiff, perfect posture that had been ingrained in her very programming years ago. She listened to what the locals had to say and gave the map they handed her a cursory glance, then dismissed them once it became clear that they had no real information for her. No real satisfactory information, at any rate.

Swallowing her agitation she found an out of the way corner to stand where she wasn't in the immediate flow of traffic, a place where she could collect her thoughts and decide how to proceed. She kept her gaze trained on the surrounding area, her old customary wariness resurfacing. A small bitter half smile twisted one corner of her lips as she watched nearby goings-on.

At least this time she hadn't gotten attached to anything - anyone - in the previous world. That would make this transition a little easier - a very thin silver lining, if there was one to be found.

Edited 2016-04-30 05:08 (UTC)

1.

When Henry wakes up - he is on a boat.

Considering the fact that the last thing he remembers is being in his bed, in his own snug little cottage on the island, that's quite jarring to say the very least. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, and then his hand goes immediately to his throat.

The collar is gone.

Which means ...

He immediately moves to the shadowed part of the boat, and searches his pockets until he finds his sunglasses. He can't take any risks - at least not until he knows where he is, and currently, what he is.

He avoids direct sunlight as best he can, frowning as they come along to the floating islands. What sort of game was the goddess playing now?

2.

He takes his communicator, and his map, and immediately goes to find the library on this damned thing. He needs to know what this world is, and whether or not he has his powers here. Oh certainly, he could test them by trying to punch through a wall -- but why be inelegant?

He's rather afraid he might be able to do it, when all is said and done. So now, he wanders darkened streets, map in hand, as he tries to find his way to the library here.

Okay. Shawn had dealt with a lot of crap in his life, way more than any one person should have to. His has the scars to prove it, although from the looks of things not as many as Jackson, Gil, or even Jessie. Maybe that is why he is so even keeled, at least from the outside. Mess with his brothers though and all bets are off.

He had made a promise to his boys, and Annie, and now he felt like he was failing them just by being here, and not where he should be. So, he was sulking in a bar, looking pretty pissed off at the world, but there is really only one person he would kick the crap out of, and he hopes to God, the Warden is not here. He is twirling a bottle of beer on the table, wanting answers, but not sure how to get them.

When Andrew wakes up alone on another ship he starts to panic. Really and truly. Where is his dog Bernie? Has Q sent him away this time?

Why isn't he back home on Earth? The shock of waking up coupled with the fear and panic literally rips down the shields Andrew had kept up for months. Harry's lessons are forgotten just long enough for a ripple to sort of ping out. Magic users might feel something tickle. Like a child just for a moment calling for their parent. It stops almost right away because Andrew snaps down on that.

He doesn't have parents anymore as far as he's concerned. The shields start to slide back up. He doesn't want to deal with this. He brushes his jacket off and starts to stomp off the boat with an angry sullen expression.

This is so stupid. He is furious with Q. This is obviously Q's fault so why shouldn't he be angry? Andrew is just so tired of feeling like he is being jerked around. He knows he is only nine years old. He shouldn't have to deal with this.

"Stupid Q," the boy grumbles as he is forced to accept some weird phone thing. He shoves it in his coat and continues to stomp off. Angry kid is angry apparently.

He remembers saying the words to Jory once he spotted Arya hugging the stone leg of Baelor the Blessed. He remembers his confession; the one that should have seen him join the Night's Watch and secure him the right to watch his children grow, at the very least. To be there for them.

To protect them as much as the Gods would allow him to. But it all went wrong.

What he remembers last, right before his very own sword, Ice, came down on the back of his neck is Sansa's frantic pleas and cries fade into nothing while his eyes find the statue of Baelor again. His sweet girl was gone.

Neither one should have seen this.

As his eyes closed, Ned waited. But death never came. Instead, when he reopened his eyes, he was on a boat destined for islands surrounded by air instead of water. How could this be?

When the boat docks, Ned, still clothed in the same clothes he was in before his execution, glanced over this odd, curious place with more disbelief than awe while those he was traveling with pushed by him to take a closer look.

[Obi-Wan was no stranger to using comms and while he wasn't used to a network quite this large, it was still not a foreign concept. It was easy enough to figure out the way the handheld comm worked and once he had it in focus, he lowered his hood and addressed the camera.]

Some of you may know me. I'm Ben Kenobi, more formally known as Obi-Wan, and I wanted to find out just how many of you have arrived within the last few weeks. I can't exactly determine how I got here so I thought to collect as many stories as I could to see if I could decipher a pattern.

If you're on this frequency, could you share with me how you arrived? Was it from the boats? Did you simply wake up here or was there some other precipitating event? Any assistance is wholly appreciated.

2

Leonard was never one to sit about, especially when there was exploring to do. Exploring led to knowledge, and knowledge led to... well, a well lined pocket was part of it. Being a step ahead of the game was also part of it. He hated not knowing where he was, or what he was doing. Being on the back foot was never his style.

Well, since he wasn't the hiking type, the market seemed like a good place to start. People were talkative, even amongst themselves. He could stay quiet, pick up information just by listening. And if people's belongings made their way into his pocket... it was a bonus.

[ooc: Will match prose or action tags as needed.]

[She stands on the docks, device and map in hand: a seven foot woman with cerise skin, dark hair, and a visor obscuring her eyes.

She's an impassive monolith, and only by watching the hand clutching her device--which is shaking--is it possible to tell that she's upset.

Garnet has already scoured the docks. She can't bring herself to use the transport bridges to look through the other islands for fear of what she'll find there: nothing.

No sign of the Crystal Gems. No sign of Steven.

She's simply trying very hard not to break the only means of communication she has at the moment...because if she's wrong, if they are here somewhere, she needs to make sure they can contact her.

It takes all her strength to force herself to shut her eyes behind her tinted visor and look for them--not in this place called Medietas, but in the tides of the future.

The only thing she's sure of, as she looks through all the possibilities, is that she will Break Yellow Diamond if she's behind this.]

Edited 2016-05-09 01:18 (UTC)

(psa: i'm working with limited icons and not a lot of facial ranges. srry if edits.)

a: ARRIVAL

After the ship docked, Castiel spent most of his time investigated the area closest to port. Testing the validity of everything around him. This is unusual, the fact that he's heralded no answers from the few people he's spoken to isn't helpful either. For a while, he has his head tipped back, a focused and calculating expression directed toward the sky above him. He also spends some time leaning towards the edge, determined to get an idea of measurements or some discernment on whether or not there are actually land masses on the ground level of wherever he's found himself.

The rest of his time is spent with curious eyes, studying people and places astutely. He has no care as to whether or not he might be too assertive in this particular situation. Castiel has never been concerned when it comes to handling himself, and he's always faced these sorts of situations head on. Ever fabric or intricate difference to the terrain here: item, plant, or otherwise is evaluated. He marvels at the unknown, and after what he's been through he's not at all modest about wanting to know more.

b: GET TURNT

How he managed to wander into a party is beyond him, but the music is distracting and so is the style of dress among many of the patrons. Certain party favors and samplings were the likes of which he'd never seen before and it's simple curiosity that has him picking them up and trying them.

After a little while of trying (and failing) to navigate the dancefloor Castiel eventually slumps down in a cushy seated area of the venue, eyes fixated on the stream of colors and light on the floor in front of him.

Arrival

Neville opened his eyes wide, as he stared at the vastness before him. He still held Gryffindor's sword in his hands, although the tip was resting on the deck of the boat at the moment. Neville felt like he could feel every vibration and every movement of every person on the boat. He knew that not every person had magic, and if they did he wouldn't be able to sense it.

It was just the battle he was sure of it. They had won, so he felt relief instead of foreboding. He didn't know where here was, but at least the people he loved were safe, and they had won.

"I kicked Ass back home," He said, stepping off the boat. He held both the sword and the hat, one in each hand. "This isn't different." The inner mantra Neville had been reciting is something that his Gran taught him to center and focus him.

He could do this.

[Party]

[ Neville strode into the room as if he owned the place. It was actually probably just the after effects of Hogworts. Neville chose to believe it was confidence.

He stared wide-eyed as he took in the expanse of the room around him. He was so out of his depth. He spotted the food table just as his stomach began to growl. He laughed out loud as he made his way over to the bar ]

I guess it's been awhile huh? Sorry about that. Excuse me? Is the food for everyone?

Edited 2016-05-13 02:14 (UTC)

When he sleeps, he remembers.

It’s been five years since Raleigh lost Yancy and he still wakes up sometimes in the middle of the night thinking his brother should be there, that they should be cutting up and finishing each others’ sentences and suiting up to go fight kaiju. Instead, there’s an empty hole where Yancy used to be and Raleigh’s not sure that it’s ever going to be filled in again and, more importantly, Raleigh’s not sure he wants it to be. As fucked up as it is, this is the only time he gets to see and hear Yancy anymore and he clings to it even if it’s probably not the healthiest choice.

It seems to help to have a purpose to fill his days besides welding on the wall. He’s glad Pentecost roped him back into being a Ranger even if he’d been against it at first because at least he’s fighting for something instead of just fighting so he doesn’t have to feel anything.

The islands are a frustrating stumbling block in that process because while he’s here, he gets lulled into thinking it’s safe. There’s plenty to eat; Raleigh spent his whole first day gorging himself on meat and bread and shit that they just can’t get back home with all the rationing. There’s no televisions blaring about the latest kaiju attack, about people dying painful deaths from Kaiju Blue, about the military arguing whether or not Jaegers are worth the hassle when they can just build a wall to keep them out. The islands are a bubble, safe, and Raleigh has to constantly remind himself that this is temporary. This isn’t something he can let himself get used to.

He’s pretty sure he’s not going to go back to sleep any time soon so he ends up pulling on a shirt and sliding into his boots, wandering without a purpose. He winds up on the beach at Imber, staring out at the waves and wondering if they're truly as benign as they appear to be or if there's something dangerous lurking beneath the surface.

After waking up on the boat alone, Bran worried he'd gone too far. But usually he could walk in his visions and he definitely couldn't right now. He called out for Summer, Hodor or Meera but no one came. And not wanting to crawl around this unknown environment, he closed his eyes and tried to find answers.

Not long later, several people came and helped him into a chair with large wheels on the side. They pushed him off the boat, handed him a map and a communication device and left him alone. Looking around, Bran had no idea where he was. Except...it wasn't Westeros.

(OOC Note: Bran will mostly be show canon rather than book canon simply because I'm caught up on the show and not the books. No need to worry about spoilers though.)

Anna Grace is never one to turn down a party even if a party on these islands is something more like her mother's school board friends and less like the parties she goes to at USC. It's a little more cocktails than keg stands and that's all right; no danger in getting a brand new dress ruined because some KA couldn't hold his beer.

Besides, her closet here had just been chock full of Lilly Pulitzer dresses - ones that clearly weren't last season clearance buys - and that is something to be celebrated. She tugs down the hem of her dress and flashes a smile at the person next to her at the refreshment table.

"Now, I turn twenty one in less than a month," Anna Grace says, all bright eyes and sweet drawl. "So, really, that's just a technicality isn't it? You're not going to card me for that? I kinda didn't come with any ID and I'm being honest so you ought to reward me."

This was not Asgard, this was somewhere completely new. Bruce stepped off the boat and takes the map he is being handed to him. To anyone who knew him Bruce wouldn't look like himself. He was wearing clothing that actually fit and he walked with the confidence that he'd been lacking in the past. Something had changed and it was up to someone to ask him what had happened.

Longing. Rusted. Seventeen..

As soon as he hears the first word, he can feel it. That unmistakable violent and excruciatingly painful mental shift of one person into that of the programmed mind of an assassin. Bucky yelled a loud and agonizing sound.

.. Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car.

His jaw set, teeth clenched down so hard against that invisible mouthguard that was supposed to prevent the Soldier from shattering all the teeth in his mouth. Conscious blue eyes turned distant and cold; primed and focused as he stared ahead through the virtually unbreakable glass window in front of him. Lips parted and the foreign words echoed harsh and mechanical in the small space he was held in.

Ready to comply.

---*---

He has no sense of where he is, nor does it really seem to matter given one moment his eyes are closed and the next they're open and a metal fist is enacting the very same movements it was back in that containment cell. Only it's not glass he's pummeling hard and fast to break. It's the inside of a wooden boat that gives easily enough with a hollow clatter.

By now the Winter Soldier's eyes are open and he's looking for a way out. Screams can be heard by the other people down there with him as each body scurries to the side he's not on in a vain effort to escape whatever the man is capable of which is easy enough to conclude given what they had just seen him do. The boat had seemed a fairly durable vessel..

He looks at them, gaze moving from face to face without expression. They aren't his mission.

Peering outside the massive hole in the side of the ship, the Soldier exits and climbs up on the deck to survey the layout. Even in realising he's in the air, there's nothing to give away that he's actually plotting anything. There's no visible thought or emotion. Almost as if he isn't a real person. Just a machine.

They aren't wrong.

The Soldier looks for an escape; to get out.Move. At least until he's been ordered by his HYDRA handlers.

{Thread option}
[Arrival]
Cisco wakes up to find himself surrounded by others who seem equally confused as he feels. Dark eyes scan the crowd of faces searching for a familiar one.

He pushes himself to his feet and wanders toward the boat's edge, peeking over the side of it. Eyebrows arch as he stares for a moment longer before he spins back toward his unintentional audience, pointing vaguely over his shoulder, "We're floating. In a boat. Is anyone else amazed at this right now?!"

[Settling]
Once the locals gave him the welcome spiel, Cisco follows the maps to the island he would apparently find his house on. He was literally assigned a house and he just doesn't know what to do with that. He can still hardly wrap his mind around the idea that he's here, nevermind the implications of being expected to be here. The whole situation is kind of surreal.

He wanders down the block in search of this house and eventually, he finds it, right where it was shown to be. "This is so weird." He mumbles, staring up at the building in front of him before eventually going inside.

{Comm option}
[After Cisco had made a walk through of the house in an attempt to start familiarizing himself with his new surroundings, he turns to the familiar: Computers. Or more specifically, a tablet-like device. He finds the apparent islands-wide network quickly and decides to give it a shot.

A live feed starts and shows Cisco kicked back at the desk shoved in one corner of the room, near the window, where the fading light of day is peeking through.]

Hello, world. [He gives a sweeping wave with his free hand to his cyber-audience before leaning the device up so both hands are free.] I'm guessing most people that are seeing this probably got here the same way I did-- [His hands move animatedly as he speaks.] by the way, those boats? Impressive. And I have a ton of questions about the islands, too, but-- [He holds both hands up in a distinctly 'stop' motion, pausing briefly, before he's just as lively as before.] I'll hold off on that for now.

[He shifts his feet to the floor and leans forward on his knees toward the camera. He's a bit calmer, a little more serious now.] Right now, I'm just looking for any friends I may have around here. And for the mass majority of you that don't know me, the name's Cisco.

Arrival

Vision rarely sleeps, if floating silently in the corner of his room can even be considered as sleeping, but the one time he tries to clear his mind from the turmoil of the past few days, he opens his eyes to a completely different view than the Avengers empty compound.

Wherever he is, the laws of physics he knows seem not to apply, as he flies to give a closer look to the floating boat. A red hand reaches to touch the wood, feeling the smooth of the grain, finding no anomalies that may explain its ability to fly. No change in the density, no rockets or repulsors. Not even motored palms to keep it airborne. It's the strangest thing Vision has ever seen, as this can not be explain with everything known on Earth.

Shifting his focus to the bustling crowd on the dock, he flies there, arriving moments before the boat he woke up on. He is given a device, something to communicate with the rest of the floating islands (and how do they stay in the skies is another mystery to add the Vision's growing list of interrogations). He turns it in his hand before he grows still for a moment, the stone on his forehead gleaming yellow slightly, downloading through contact all the information he can.

He tries a few time to hack into the device, to learn of its origin, but seems each time to be faced with an invisible barrier. Vision frowns, puzzled by this unexpected turn of event:

"How is this possible?"

---------

video;

[The blue eyes and a red skinned face comes into view of the camera, the android tilting his head slightly]

Medietas, it does not exist per Earth's measure. Though given that life exist on more than one planet, and given the high possibility that alternate versions of the Universe we know might exist, this place, it should be known to someone. The device given at my arrival yields very few details of this place, beside maps of the islands and whom resides here. Is there more information available regarding this world?

[Vision is more than aware that some of the Avengers have already arrived here, and where they live, but he will seek his teammates in due time, if they don't seek him first.]

It didn't take Mary that long to realize she was on her own in this place. Whatever this place was. She worried about her parents. Thinking she was dead. It was the last few weeks before school finished and that was what everyone was talking about. Having to listen to them going on about what they'd be doing over summer, when she knew what she'd be doing. Traveling with her parents. Out on the road. Following cases. As much as Mary didn't fit in with the rest of her classmates she didn't want to be out on the road all summer. She'd miss the one person she got along with best, much to her fathers disapproval.

So maybe she did miss her parents. Even sitting at the kitchen table cleaning guns with her dad as he tried to quiz her on something or other that she needed to know. Preparing her. That's what they'd done so far. Mary didn't know many other girls her age that could handle a gun or a sword like she could or keep up with hand to hand either.

Wandering around the islands to get herself more acquainted with them seemed like a good idea. There was no harm in following some of her fathers advice. Knowing her surroundings. .

Finding himself on board a ship and in what appears to be a fully functioning human body is unsettling enough to someone who's last memory was saying goodbye to everyone he'd cared about in the world. AI weren't supposed to get an afterlife, and Epsilon crosses his arms over his chest, eyes half closing as he inhales.

And it's kind of a sensory overload in a way because he can feel things he honestly hasn't before, not with his own sense. Sure he has memories of it, but that's not the same as experiencing it firsthand.

And once he's off the boat? Exploring, walking and trying whatever it is that catches his attention. Food had never really been a thing for him either so there's that. The map is definitely helpful and he slides the communicator away for later perusal.

It's almost too good to be true.

By nightfall, he's circled around and back to one of the beaches, shoes in one hand as he walks through the sand and into the shallow water just far enough for it to cover his feet.

"...This is crazy." It's more to himself than anyone else and he's just staring out at the horizon.

Threaded | Flat

Page 2 of 3

Galen Marek - Star Wars: The Force Unleashed (with CRAU)

Weyland Falkner| OC

Thor Odinson | Marvel Cinematic Universe | Exploring

Chris Halliwell | Charmed

Andros | Power Rangers in Space

Edward Cullen | Twilight | New Moon Canon Point | 2

Gem | Tron: Legacy (+CRAU)

Henry Sturges | AL:VH/Last American Vampire | Post Amat

Shawn Polk | Game of Silence

Andrew McKee | Orginal Character | 1 -- with some fun post game flavor

Ned Stark | A Song of Ice and Fire | 1