PC

A very insane yet cheerful man clothed in black sweatpants/sweatshirt and a bright yellow smiley face mask. Fights with possibly potent punctuation power. Fourth walls tremble before him.

Description

PC is not of a particularly intimidating stature. He stands at only 5’9, and certainly doesn’t have broad shoulders or beefy arm muscles. This is not helped by his uniform in any way. He likes to wear loose-fitting, grey sweatpants and sweatshirt sort of clothes on the job; his short brown hair is covered by what looks like a scraggly black hood and his square-shaped face is covered by a yellow smiley face mask; he refuses to take it off most of the time, and some coworkers nervously report he really doesn't like it when you touch it. One can barely see glinting, cheerful, light brown eyes through the eyeholes.

Personality

PC is an interesting character, to say the very least. He’s always upbeat, cheerful, and social, to the point where he swerves dangerously close to being feminine. Strike that, he probably downright crosses that line a few times. He has quite a problem with seeing people sad, and generally will try and cheer them up, often with irritating and ineffective methods. It’s said that nobody’s ever seen PC himself angry or depressed.

Unfortunately, his cheerfulness is generally on the wrong side of the line between “happy” and “maybe just a little bit crazy.” He’s off his rocker, in fact, and it’s painfully obvious. He often lapses into non sequitur, draws unbelievably ridiculous conclusions from the simplest of evidence, and is generally just rather off in all regards.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg; the bottom is somewhere around his crackpot theory number one, one that seems to dominate his personality. He believes he’s just a character in a roleplaying game, that the lives of all the “Created Ones” are controlled by the “Out Of Characters,” and that, if one endears themselves enough to their “Controller,” they can be reincarnated in future roleplays with a different history and tweaked abilities. In addition, this so-called “roleplay” is dominated by several rules, like not being able to be too powerful with too little effort, not being able to control other “characters,” and, most importantly, not being able to know things you shouldn’t, the chief reason why PC claims he can’t prove his theory or do anything useful with it.

Crazy, right?

Equipment

PC does not carry tools of any kind on his person. He does, however, have a very interesting power that makes up for this, which is tied to his blatant disregard for the fourth wall.

He can rip a letter out of the very post he’s in and summon it, using it in as many creative ways as he pleases. He is, however, restricted to the 26 letters of the English alphabet, the numbers 0-9, certain punctuation marks (periods, commas, colons, semicolons, parentheses, question marks, and exclamation points), the font Times New Roman, and summoning characters no taller than himself.

He is also restricted by the intelligibility of the post afterward. Allow me to explain.

Say PC summons the letter E. From the point he summons that letter until the point he sends it away, the letter E will have disappeared from the posts. So s-nt-nc-s would look som-thing lik- this. This also stacks; if h-, say, us-s an “S” aft-rwards, --nt-nc-- -tart to look lik- thi-. H- know- full w-ll th- ramification- of u-ing it to th- point wh-r- po-t- b-com- unr-adabl-, -o h- mak-- -ur- that h- do--n’t ov-rdo it.

Naturally, he also tends to ignore the fourth wall, though that's more amusing insanity fodder than anything useful.

History

PC comes from a place somewhere in a nice little fixer-upper galaxy where superpowers are common. Supermans are rather rare, though; most of the powers are remarkably useless and strange, such as control over cleaning supplies or the ability to make one's eyes neon pink for three seconds. None of them are exactly alike, and some are so subtle that people can go their entire lives without realizing they have a power. Most people chalk it up to God having an odd sense of humor and don't bother to wonder where the powers come from; scientists trying to find the source have about as much luck as alchemists trying to find gold in lead. And so life goes on.

Naturally, one branch of the (worldwide) government specializes in recruiting those with powers above the norm, and so entered PC. He refused to disclose his real name, any details about his experiences in life, or why in God's name he was wearing that stupid mask to the interviewers, though he did cheerfully describe his powers all while making veiled references to the Out Of Characters throughout the interview. He was considered to be a head-scratching sort of recruit; a few in the organization chalked up his insanity as a side-effect of his powers, and approximately nobody took his theories about this "Roleplaying" business seriously. He was, however, accepted, as the higher-ups decided he might be able to summon things other than letters, which would certainly be useful.

Unfortunately, they underestimated PC's lesser power: annoying everybody. Coworkers complained of his tireless optimism and bemoaned his constant rambling and crackpot theories; one very nervous boss claimed PC nearly went homicidal when his mask was touched and threatened to resign if the higher-ups didn't do something about him.

One week later, PC was offered a magnificent opportunity: explore the known and unknown galaxy (with the help of a teleport-abled member, naturally) and bring back some samples and maybe some reports, too, it doesn't matter, just get out of our office and for God's sakes shut up for a few minutes. And so he wanders, appearing in many places, tethered to his planet by a timer but always eager to go where no man has gone before.