Everett Young

[Alibi of Tyrants]

Player Name: Alibi of Tyrants

Name: Everett Young

Age: 25

Race: Human

Physical Description:

Hair Color: Same color as a crow’s wing---well, if you can consider a crow’s feathers to be ebon AFTER exposure to industrious smog. It’s a very dark brown that could almost be considered black if you’re at a distance. Everett likes to keep his hair cut short but not closely cropped. He keeps it just long enough to brush back.

Eye Color: His eyes are as green as a tree in the middle of a technomantic leyline that empowers factories. In other words, Everett’s eyes are the color of said dead tree----a ruddy, murky brown.

Skin Tone: As white as crème brule; a soft, somewhat browned tone that can easily remind one of the aforementioned dessert.

Build: Everett is built like a mountain---you know, like the gravelly ones you find in construction yards. Sturdy, strong, resolute---at least until the ‘scoop comes along and whisks it away to lay out a foundation. He has the build of someone that isn’t quite an Olympic athlete but is far from a slouch.

Height: 6’

Weight: 201 lbs.

Everett looks like your standard fare, atypical noir street detective. He’s got the looks (he’s a handsome, unblemished devil with a pert little nose, kissable lips, and small ears. Kinda like Humphrey Bogart), the trenchcoat (which thankfully doesn’t impede his movement too much, although it is not exactly a fashion statement worth running to Milan over; hell, they’re not even Guccis!), and even the fabled “gumshoes” (okay, they’re boots---but that’s beside the point. They’re made with the special leather that makes his footsteps quiet! Although, the Gnomes that made ‘em forgot to mention that they’re especially susceptible to slippery surfaces….whoops).

The one thing that sets him apart from the rest of the crowd is the fact that his right arm isn’t exactly…well, real. It’s completely prosthetic and looks like something straight out of the Bionic Commando video game. It’s a large, bulky, and steely apparatus that isn’t exactly streamlined like a regular Joe’s arm would be. A pneumatic pump rests at the hinge of the arm, right where the elbow would be, providing the same range of flexibility as a normal arm would. Intricate networks of tubes and circuits and doo-hickeys can be seen, a combination of cutting-edge technomancy and theoretical cake-baking, a totally alien (er, Gnomish) concept.




Possessions: (anything they own or keep on their person)

- A wallet containing a number of things that scale in importance, like his I.D., his P.I. license, his money, and his condoms (not necessarily in this order, mind). More often than not, however, the money in his wallet is replaced by lint that he has accrued from leaving his wallet in the dryer. Though money is an object to him, it unfortunately leaves him much quicker than normal. Extenuating circumstances notwithstanding, of course.

- A magnifying glass. However, this is not your ordinary magnifying glass. With but the press of a button on the handle, the magnifying glass transforms into a multipurpose tool capable of the following:

Blacklight: While the blacklight mode is activated, things that aren’t so readily visible to the naked eye become apparent. Old stains (bloody or no---you’re able to see some pretty interesting “stuff”), chemical residues, authenticating antiques---everything that your standard blacklight can do. Thankfully, staring into it doesn’t cause cataracts or eye cancer. This mode is indicated by a thin blue-black sheathe that contours away from the lens like a bubble.

Infrared/Thermal Imaging: As the name implies, this function allows Everett to see things on the IR spectrum. Good for finding warm places in the dead of winter and slippery people who think hiding in a really dark corner will work. This mode is indicated by a reddish-orange, coruscating flame that swirls around throughout the glass.

X-Ray: This one is pretty self-explanatory. This mode allows Everett to peer through things. The X-Ray has different tiers of usage. The lowest tier allows Everett to peer through things as thin as clothing (perfect for seeing whether a particular woman has an “honest” bosom or a “dishonest” one). Middle tier allows Everett to peer through thicker objects, like watches and other mechanical things made of a not-so flimsy material. The last tier is the most powerful, allowing Everett to pretty much see the insides of just about anything, ranging from somebody’s skeleton to the inside of a vault. It is to note that if there is magical interference of any kind around the object he is attempting to view with the X-Ray, it will not work. This mode is indicated by a simple, pitch black sheen across the glass.

Magical: It’s not magic---it’s energy from the astral plane! Semantics aside, this particular function of the magnifying glass allows Everett to see things on the metaphysical spectrum. In essence, Everett can ‘see’ the arcane energy that suffuses spells or creatures. Note that this function operates along the same wavelength as the “infrared/thermal imaging” functions; Everett can merely gauge the intensity of the magic that’s present or left over. This does not give Everett insight as to what kind of spell or what kind of thing he is looking at; he is going to have to deduce that on his own, unfortunately.

- Everett carries around the Gnomish variant of the swiss army knife. At first glance, it just looks like a black, rectangular block with a golden compass star emblazoned on it. When Everett presses the compass star, it reveals a plethora of magical tools and utensils. Because it is Gnomish, however, it tends to backfire. Sometimes when you need a screwdriver, this thing will give you a hammer. Note that he cannot ascertain exotic tools through the use of this function; he can’t summon plasma torches or make a machete with this thing (although a throwing knife could feasibly be made with the largest bladed knife).

- Smokes and (sometimes) a flagon of whiskey. What, can’t a guy destroy what’s left of us body?




Powers or Strengths: (including stuff like magic, money, martial arts, etc.)

- Everett’s primary strength is his brains. In the words of Wile E. Coyote, he is a “super genius.” If one were to gauge his IQ, it would score somewhere over162. With this almost preternatural intelligence, he can come to educated conclusions with circumstantial or even little evidence and come away right nine times out of ten (kind of like Sherlock Holmes).

- Everett is an accomplished martial artist. When he had lost his arm, he had to undergo intensive rehab to learn the ins and outs of his prosthetic limb. His physical therapist happened to teach self-defense classes in her off-time. Her classes did not focus on one particular style but rather techniques and methodologies strewn from many different styles. As a result, Everett is a jack of all trades---knowing bits and pieces from Hapkido, Jiu-Jitsu, and Karate. He’s also pretty agile for a guy his size, too.

- Everett is not that much stronger or faster than your average Joe. Sure, he can clean the clocks of regular people or maybe even somebody who is in peak physical condition, but he’s wouldn’t be able to successfully win an arm wrestling match against, say, an orc. However, when it comes to these guys, Everett always has his…

- …prosthetic arm! This big, bulky thing comes in handy for more than just crushing soda cans for recycling. With his prosthetic arm, Everett can perform meta-human feats of strength and power. He can crush a cinder block with very little effort and can punch holes through walls with relative ease. He can also crush and warp steel (with a little more effort).

- He’s knowledgeable of Gnomish tech. While he couldn’t actually FIX something Gnomish, he could point out what something is and what it does.

- He is self-educated (for the most part, anyway). As a result, he knows a lot about just about everything. Everett is especially fond of literature and archaic sciences.

Weaknesses:

- Everett’s brains give him a distinct advantage, to be sure, but there is a price. Ever hear the expression, “You can’t see the forest beyond the tree?” This quote holds true for Everett. With his burgeoning genius comes a lack of common sense and overly analytical solutions to some of the most mundane problems. Plus, he can be incredibly lazy because of his smarts; this was why he flunked out of school.

- His prosthetic arm may be pretty awesome, but it tends to malfunction quite a bit (Everett swears that it has a life of its own sometimes, especially when it starts a twitching fit that ends in giving the finger to somebody). Also, it’s not really designed for any combat application. As a result, lording his faux arm over his opponents must be done sparingly or otherwise it will break in some horrible fashion.

- Magic? Bloody hell. Though Everett has read about magic extensively, he doesn’t have the patience or compunction to learn or use any of it. As a result, magic users can hurl fireballs at him and Everett’s only defense is the good ol’ Shoe-Leather Express (i.e. get the hell out of the way and find cover). He also has no innate defenses against magic.

- He’s human, which means that he is as frail as one.



History:


Is it auspice when a Gnome walks in front of your Mom as she’s trying to squeeze your 21 inch, something-odd ounce body out of her womb? I dunno about astrology and all that bullshit, but that should definitely count as a sign.

Everett Young, talking about his life story.

Everett Young was born in the year 147 PW, on the night of December 3rd. His mother was Betsy Leopold, a modest woman who once held a managerial job at a textile factory in Marn. His father was the infamous Cyric Young, who worked for a bar by day and secretly supported a society of renegade magic users known as the Cabal of Sagacious Thinking by night. These insurgent magic users were radicals that protested the city-state of Marn’s regulation and strictness towards the arcane arts. The relationship between Everett’s mother and father had always been tense, due to the fact that they had dissimilar viewpoints on magic. Betsy believed that magic should be codified and restrained, and that it was too dangerous for just anyone to wield. Cyric, on the other hand, thought it was a gift meant for all of the races to have and was virtually incorruptible because of that fact.

On the night of December 3rd, the Cabal of Sagacious Thinking planned a magical strike on the vital centers of Marn. Cyric knew about the plan beforehand---in fact, he knew about it months ahead of time---but the arrival of his baby altered his plans somewhat. Wrestling between his loyalty to the cult and his own family, Cyric opted to do what he felt was the right thing: Rather than risk his wife and soon-to-be born child if he got caught by the Battlemages, Cyric left Betsy right at the doorstep of the hospital and left her there. She begged for him to stay, but the labor pains were too great and she could not pursue him. Even to this day, it is unknown whether he has been killed or he did indeed escape from the city.

The nurses found Everett’s mother and took her into the maternity ward. Approximately two hours later, the Cabal of Sagacious Thinking struck. A mighty, spell-wrought ice storm struck the hospital essentially encapsulating it from the outside world with inclement weather. Doors were frozen shut, personnel’s cars and emergency ambulances were stuck underneath of snow, and the power went down. Several other instances of severe weather had also struck the city at the same time in contained areas, varying from miniature typhoons to tornados.

The dilemma at the hospital was worsening by the hour. As it turns out, the back-up generators that were located in the hospital went on the fritz and the whole building went without power indefinitely. Nurses and doctors alike had to use their magic and their collective knowledge to preserve the well-being of the patients against the encroaching cold. For some cases, it just wasn’t enough; the supernatural cold eventually crept into the bones of the infirm, the near-dead, and the premature infants and slew them by a score. This was the situation that Betsy and her unborn child were brought into. Miraculously, Everett was brought into the world as a hale and healthy child.

The Battlemages quickly dispelled the many storms employed by the Cabal of Sagacious Thinking. A few days later, when everything had been cleared up, Betsy and her newborn son Everett were both discharged and sent home. Betsy was devastated at the fact that her husband was not around to see his son at the hospital or even at home. Not so much a letter was left to mark his passing from her life. This was a deep, deep wound that she never really got over.

Even as an infant, Everett displayed an uncanny knack for learning. At the age of nine months, he had mastered the basic motor skills of walking and could even run by ten and a half months. At two years old, Everett was already spouting two-word phrases and could loosely communicate with others. By four, he was able to hold full-fledged conversations, perform simple mathematical equations without error (addition, subtraction, multiplication, and even division), and read at the middle-school level. Most people were astounded by this sheer propensity for intellect and he was constantly recommended to higher-end learning by his mother’s peers. Regretfully, however, Betsy Leopold was nothing but a mockery of herself. She had lost her job at the textile factory soon after she had Everett and was flitting from one job to the next just to get them by.

Unfortunately, once he had got past pre-schooling, his years of actual school were a totally different matter. Recommendations to higher learning became bitter jeers when they discovered his true colors. Everett didn’t really care for most of the stuff that was being taught; in fact, he even went out of his way to correct teachers at times, especially on small details like grammars and exact dates. As a result, he didn’t bother to do most of the work; he did just enough to get by. At thirteen, he had to forego school altogether and work at a sweatshop in the Shantytown District because his mother was becoming flakier by the year. The sweatshop’s owner, O’Shea, adopted Everett as sort of a second son and began tutoring him.

At fifteen, Everett’s complacency towards his mother’s situation peaked and broke his patience. In a fit of spite, he ran away from her and lived on the streets. There he joined a gang known as the Skullduggery Kids. He quickly rose to the top of the totem pole and began running logistics for the group, drawing out elaborate plans for petty theft and other sorts of mischief. Soon, one of their biggest schemes came rolling into town in the form of a caravan filled with valuable ores. The plan went awry, however, when Everett’s old friend, boss, and mentor O’Shea was caught in the middle of the Skullduggery Kids’ ambush. Everett managed to save O’Shea from being trampled by the panicked horses and the buggies that they were pulling---but at a price. In the ensuing chaos, Everett lost his right arm; the wheel for one of the buggies severed it to a stump. Everett was admitted to the hospital and retrofitted with a Gnomish prosthetic arm. The Gnome doctor who applied the arm, Rosalee McDinforth, became a good friend of Everett’s and became his self-defense instructor.

A few years later (at the behest of everybody and his mother), Everett managed to graduate from secondary school. He predominantly studied the archaic sciences of humanity and dabbled very little into occult lore. Of course, when Everett had finished his term in academia, there was very little opportunity to cultivate his skills in more distinguished areas (that was left for those people who wanted to study magic firsthand). A position in law enforcement seemed most likely at this point in his life, but he steadfastly refused to join the Guard. Trying to seek middle-ground and be his own agent, Everett petitioned for a "detective's license"---a concept that was not necessarily unheard of, mind, but it definitely wasn't common. Luckily, the Judges approved of his venture (though it was with some considerable snickering in the background) and Everett was able to establish his own private investigation agency in the Residential District. Complete autonomy is not Everett's, however. The powers that be expect him to cooperate with the authorities and actually work with them on certain cases. Of course, Everett does so...but grudgingly.