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Eliot's profile

Permissions


4th WALL BREAKING: Yes. Accidentally call him Lindsey McDonald, even. I think it could be hilarious.
THREADJACKING: Go for it.
BACK THREADING: Do eet~


MIND READING/CONTROL: He's mentally stronger than an average normal human, but he doesn't have concrete defenses against mind reading. Yet. He'll probably find a way to work against it if experiencing it enough times. If this is an ability that matches wills against each other, it'll be up to you with this in mind; he's survived extended periods of time in PoW camps, being tortured for information, without breaking.
LOCATION SENSING: Depends. He's a normal human, so I don't know if that affects how your character senses locations.
TELEPATHY: Eliot will probably get very growly and defensive, as it's intrusive, but until he gets a feel for it there's no stopping your character.


FIGHTING CAPABILITIES: Eliot is sometimes considered a master at fighting. Between durability, speed, experience and technique he's very good at fighting. He's also proficient at firearms, but doesn't like guns.
INJURY/DEATH: If it happens, it happens. Death... only if plotted.
MEDICAL/PHYSICAL INFO: Let's just say that Eliot is very... sturdy.


ROMANCE/RELATIONSHIPS: It does happen, so it's possible.
SEXUAL RELATIONS: Oh, he's had them. In character, he could very well have them in the game as well. Personally? I'd like to fade-to-black or handwave that part.
PHYSICAL CONTACT: Depends on the situation. I'm not going to stop it, but we'll end up seeing how it turns out in character.



Eliot is able to pick out various things for a distinctive trait that it carries. Examples are:

•  Can hear a gun fire, and determine the model.
•  Has identified military and other unit affiliations through stances, haircuts, footprints, and knife fighting styles.

So, here's what I'm asking from you;

Is there anything about your character that Eliot can pick up on? Whether it's where they are from, military/mercenary affiliations, fighting styles prefered or anything else. Like being able to tell that Roy Mustang has been in some kind of military by the way he talks, but (obviously) not that he's from the Amestris military. So the limits are either traits common from a certain background, or things that actually exist on Earth.

If so, what would he be able to pick up, and what's the distinctive trait that he can pick this up with?

This isn't limited to combat and militia-like groups. It can be as simple as where someone's from, what kind of work they do, or some tells. Tells being signs of lying or an intention to do something.

[Eliot only recently managed to finish getting the last of the fires put out on his place. The areas with the worst damage have been given a quick patch at the very least, and it's after he's cleaned up a little that he gets to the PCD at all. He wasn't around to help with whatever had caused the city-wide damages, so it seemed right to offer something for afterwards.]

If anyone needs a place to stay, I've got a few empty rooms right now.

[At least, he seems to be offering it to anyone.]

[There's a few sounds of a guitar being tuned, having been caught towards the end of the process. Surprisingly, despite the changing weather and no pitch reference, the strings end up either on or close to perfect tuning. After strumming a few more times, Eliot starts to sing for about a minute, minute and a half. Then, as he gets to this part;]

She said, "I'm tired of living life in a romance book. I think chivalry's dead and I ain't gonna look for them roundtable boys on the white horse that can't get the story right."

[The feed ends.]

[The video turns on and, once again, it catches Eliot outside shirtless while working outside in the early afternoon. This time it's chopping wood, having found some with fungus growing along the outside of it. This keeps up for a good couple more minutes until something interrupts.

A green apple hitting his back when putting more wood on the stump for breaking. Looking around, as if expecting that someone had thrown it, he mutters when noticing the apple. Picking it up, there's a calculating look for a bit... then tossed a ltitle and caught.]

Hah ha.

[Let's just say... Eliot likes green apples. This is the happiest he's been about something for a while. He takes a bite before looking up to see the other apples that are around. Nodding with a grin he walks over to the PCD having actually intended to start an entry but... technology gets the upper hand on him again.]

Ah, shit...

[No matter, right?]

So, if anyone's needing help filling their wood stock, I've got some extra that hasn't been broken up yet. Different varieties, and I've got some good kindling to share. If there's a furnace or forge, I can get to working on making some charcoal as well.  As for the apples-

[Takes a bite, chews on it a little and swallowing before continuing.]

I can probably write up a few recipes and put down alternative ingredients that could also be used. This is a lot better than the last couple events.

[When a man only sleeps 90 minutes a day, and is mostly healed, that leaves plenty of time to get some things done. Even if he still had some healing to do, Kenneth wasn't bed-ridden and he had the lumber and other tools available. As long as he's not pushing his right wrist too much, there's nothing stopping him. When the feed starts, he's (of course) shirtless and finishing the tension on one side of what looks to be a rather tall fence by twisting a small bit of lumber in-between a couple of diagonal set wires that run from the bottom of one post to the middle horizontal cross brace on the next post.

It's not the only part that's like this. The posts are at least 8 feet tall, not including what's in the ground, and there's enough that it seems like a small enclosure, with the narrower side facing the PCD having an opening. The angle doesn't clearly show what's in the troughs on the ground in  the enclosure, but it looks like dirt. In fact, it is. There's some smaller containers that have other plants that were foraged now growing and being taken care of. Behind the enclosure there's rolled up pool coverings, netting, wires and thinner rope on the ground. Some stuff salvaged that way, others pieced together.

It's not until the tension is enough that Kenneth lets go and lets the bit of lumber stop against the cross brace before he looks to the sky. Grabbing a rag from his back pocket, some sweat is wiped back before he goes and picks up the PCD.]

Lesse, how do I-

*BEEEEEEEEEP*

[That tone? The PCD having been pressed in a way that doesn't work when it's recording. No, he hasn't gotten used to it, and he's leering at the device, more than at the people who would see this.]

That means this is on, right?  So with what's been going on, this mind control stuff, I wanted to know if anyone would be able to teach me how to keep that from happening again. Maybe give some tips and lemme know what I need to be able to do first before getting past that problem. I'd very much appreciate any guidance with this.

If it's compensation you want, we can work something out. For example, I can cook anything you want, as long as the ingredients are there, during the time or longer. There are other services I could offer in return, too.



[[Other Queens Row residents or those nearby may see some of this stuff going up throughout the day, or even smell some fresh soil. Feel free to stop on by! Peek over the fence and such.]]

[The feed started with guitar going through the first few bars. After the briefest of pauses, a voice comes through with a man singing a country ballad with the kind of emotion that ties it together. Until towards the end...]

When you find your way to another town, and someone tries to lay you down and a feeling hits you right out of the blue...

[... The guitar stops, and the voice that was singing turns to something harsher, definitely upset and though hidden away, with confusion in the mix.]

Hardison. Hardison Damn it, what did you do this time. Hey, answer already.

[With a bit of a growl and angry mutterings, thing go quiet for about half a minute before the microphone picks up the sounds of the device being picked up. Turned around, tapped right onto the mic for everyone's unfortunate ears.]

How's this thing supposed to work... it on?

[From muttered and softer (yet still upset,) the following is definitely louder.]

Anyone there to report back to me?