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Adam Waters

"I'm just looking for someone to fuck me harder than reality. A feat, I assure you, that will be impressive."

0 · 134 views · located in Camp Kalthorne

a character in “Camp Kalthorne”, as played by thelordgeneral

Description



โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ

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โ•ญโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฎ
Adam Waters
โ€ข Devastation and Reform โ€ข


Dialogue Colour || #afc989
Thought Colour || #91ab6c
โ•ฐโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฏ



โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ

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A D A MXW A T E R S

L E A T H E R

I T S C O M P L I C A T E D

I plead the fifth on my real age, but hey, I look legal don't I?


P R O M E T H E A N

STRAIGHT | BIROMANTIC

MALE

CAUCASIAN, I THINK

NEW SQUARE

]TBD

#a5d166



โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ

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BIKER LEATHERS AND IRON JEWELRY

7'3" AND BUILT LIKE A GORILLA

Adam is a massive mountain of a man with a thick, curly black beard and straight, messy onyx hair that comes down to his shoulders. His tanned skin is covered in a combination of medical scars and wounds from past scuffles. He always seems to be nursing some sort of injury or sporting a bandage. Despite his lime green eyes adding to his over all sex appeal, there's something supernaturally off-putting about him that puts strangers on edge.



โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ

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his motorcycle, the smell of a campfire, the wind in his hair, small animals

bullies, authorities, sadists, microwaves

Adam has a habit of carving nearby wooden objects while he talks. He works harder at this when unnerved. During a conversation he will sometimes 'lag' for a brief moment. He can also be found sometimes simply staring at his hand or other body parts in wonder.



โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ


ImageAdam is deeply paranoid when it comes to social interactions, and seeks to quickly put up walls to prevent people from getting close with the help of his temper and intimidating stature. However, when something he perceives as weak is threatened or hurt, that temper becomes a range aimed at the perpetrator.



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P R O M E T H E A N
Also known as Homonculi, golems, and in more modern pop culture, frankenstiens, Prometheans are a false-life created by crazed wizards, witches, and alchemists in a pursuit for godhood. They are created with the spark of life, and radiate the perverted energies of the spark outward from them. They are stereotypically stronger and more durable than even most supernatural creatures, but this radiant spark causes reality to snuff them out, whether through natural disasters, bad luck, or by turning communities against them.

The Spark
The spark of life within all Prometheans grants them a number of abilities. Namely, they are incredibly resilient to damage - some noted to have fist fought a pack of werewolves lead by an alpha, and others being able to shrug off a head on collision with a semi-truck. Additionally, they heal wounds quite rapidly - broken bones, should they occure, healing in a matter of days rather than months. Their forged bodies are almost always incredibly strong, capable of throwing live stock around like kittens. A Promethean can grant someone a piece of their regenerating spark to heal them from severe wounds, though there are some that it simply can not heal. They can only do this once a month. Based on the creation process the Promethean's creator has used to forge their body, they are granted some minor abilities.

The Beast
Adam's former master forged his body from a mixture of human cadavers and animal parts, granting him great empathy with the creatures of nature, increased senses, and increased stamina as well as a perfect internal compass.

T A L E N T S
All Prometheans can simply be stated to be talented in the ways of survival. Between their durability and healing they are designed to take a beating, and with their strength they have ample opportunity to dish it out. This inherent ability to survive is important because;


W E A K N E S S E S
Reality fucking hates us. Not in the sad sack emo way - due to the radiation of the spark of life in such a raw form, reality seeks to snuff out the freaks of nature known as prometheans. Otherwise stable structures put up yesterday suddenly collapsing on them, food prepared a day ago rotting to dust, a mob of angry humans with pitch forks and ropes? fun stuff.


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H I S T O R Y
In the late winter of 2018 the impoverished town of New Square, the poorest town in New York State, a drug lord by the name of Nate Flanagan who's crew had robbed the Salem Massachusetts Museum of Witchcraft got his hands on an ancient and powerful alchemical grimoire, which taught him the secrets of false life. To stave off the police and rioters in his community, Flanagan set about constructing a guardian golem like the old jewish alchemists of old. After six months of buying bodies, chemicals, and animal parts he had finally created his ideal defender, which he named Adam. Adam did his job dutifully, protecting the innocent until the violence had died down. But, with nothing left to do with the creation, Nate Flanagan sought to use this might for nefarious purposes - there was no danger to the community any more, only a danger to his criminal empire. Adam, however, refused to kill for such simple reasons and struck his master down, before fleeing in search of a safe life. Reality chased him all the way to the gates of Camp Kalthorne



โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ

So begins...

Adam Waters's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bellamy Costa Character Portrait: Imani Kendrick Character Portrait: Adam Waters
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#, as written by mombie
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t h e x s i r e n
#496a71 || Outfit || the woods

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Imani was facing difficulty with sleep these days. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something ached that wasn't entirely physical. Yet, it had effects on her that were physical indeed. She, too, had awakened when the morning was still fairly youthful, and that was only because her slumber has been plagued with unfamiliar thoughts and feelings.

She stood up, unclothed and unashamed of that fact, and looked at herself in a tall mirror. The siren canted her head from side to side, trying to figure out what this sickness she had acquired was. Fingers pinched at her own soft flesh, she looked here and there, but there were no physical signs of illness that she could see. If Daya were here and not out trying to get Jovani to come out of his cave before the staff wondered if he was dead, maybe she'd have some light to shed. Raphael always knew the answers but after her first nude incident with Bellamy, she had long since learned that there was something wrong with the naked body. Wrong to be out and about with it, that is.

The only thing that Imani knew was that she is no longer feeling like herself. Something has been missing for at least a week now. She had been feeling a sadness that was not akin to the sense of loneliness as she had in the past.

Then she heard the wind chimes, and normally the sound might make her smile. Not this morning, though. They just sounded... like something she didn't understand anymore.

A soft sigh rolled from Imani's lips as she turned away from looking at her miserable reflection. Off to her closet, she went, looking through some of the clothing that Britta had been kind enough to offer. They surprisingly flatter Imani in every way - from her warm golden skin to her eyes, she really enjoyed the attire that was picked for her. Wearing clothing took a bit of getting used to, but she was starting to enjoy putting a look together far more than running around butt-naked.

She slipped into something easy and comfortable. It didn't conceal her body entirely and allowed for a healthy showing of skin, but it wasn't nude. The color was soft and almost blended into the color of her skin - a light shade of peach. She didn't have a terribly thick womanly figure, rather she was slim and gentle. Maybe that's why Bellamy didn't like her at all. Human men tended to like busty women, and that was definitely not Imani. She was never that way.

As she got into her clothes, put in some earrings and placed a necklace of shells around her neck, she hummed softly. This tune began to carry itself, by accident, through the breeze and throughout the camp. It wasn't loud or menacing, it was simply that sometimes Imani forgets herself. Sadness seemed to induce this sort of thing, just as it would at sea. It was a calling, a lure - and when she finally noticed that she was doing it, she ceased her solemn song. There was no need to have everyone at Camp end up at her cabin.

She ended her dress-up session with a quick tousling of her hair, a failed attempt at a kind smile, and the shake of her head. Then she set out for the morning, leaving the confines of her homely space to brave the outside world in which she felt this strange sad feeling the strongest. She'd take the walk slow, careful to avoid Bellamy's cabin or anyone for that matter.

There was yelling, and this caught her attention rather quickly. What was that strange wheeled object that cut through the woods whilst being chased by a bear? Who was the man, or creature, that rode it? Most of all, who are these "Limp Dicks" he was referring to? She certainly wasn't a dick, much less a limp one.

Imani wasn't going to fight a bear for a stranger, either, so she let Adam take care of that without interference. Only afterward does she finally approach the man to observe the bike closely, hands laced at the small of her back and head tilted slightly. She had come up from behind him very quietly, and now she peeks practically over his shoulder without any real effort to give him his personal space. "What is that? Who are you? Why were you being chased by a bear? Are you lost? Is the bear dead?"

Unfortunately, Adam attracted the one person in the camp whose not-so-secret power was to cripple people with a bombardment of questions often asked all at once, and seemingly in one breath. None of them were to offer help, either.