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Ted

Eccentric Handyman

0 · 880 views · located in Earth 2.0

a character in “Life That Remains”, originally authored by thebagel264, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Image


Name: Ted. Technically Theodore. Rarely "Teddy" and never "Theo"

Gender: I'm a guy. You can take my word for it, you don't gotta go check.

Image

Age: I'm 17. Not even an adult going through this.

Height: 6' Almost 6'1" Maybe with less gravity I'll stretch out.

Weight: I dunno, I don't weigh myself. Gonna be a lot less now.

Hair: Well, under this mask it doesn't look the same. It's still brown and curly though.

Eyes: What, you mean these glass circles aren't my eyes?

Clothing: Depends on the weather. When it's hot out, I usually ditch the shirt. When it's cold, I put it back on. I got a hoodie too. And a snowmobile jacket for when it gets real cold. A pair of normal jeans that are a little on the baggy(and dirty) side.

Equipment:
-Gas mask

-A backpack to hold all his junk

-A steel hammer that he carries around. Doesn't matter to him if he's hitting the head of a nail or an attacker.

-A pretty rock he found and pocketed.

WIP

So begins...

Ted's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ted Character Portrait: Echo Character Portrait: Timothy
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The sun was setting at it's feverish pace as the chunk of forbidden land spun around in space on it's elongated orbit. The orange light cast thick, black shadows on the ground, giving whatever was left a sense of purpose as it lay still in the piles of rubble and debris. The items didn't flinch in the breeze, nor did they falter when dust sprayed their cold surface. The rubble remained as such, even when unpadded feet walked silently among them. The air was prepped and chilled for the night that would soon rise, however, the weather's calm temperament was due to it's proximity among the soul source of heat in their galaxy. The revolution around the sun was about half way complete, and thus was mid season. Winter was soon to come, each night gradually becoming more and more bitter, but it was still the ideal prep season.

Scavengers, human and pest alike, both scourged and bled each pile dry before continuing onto the next, desperately pillaging anything that was remotely edible or conceivably useful in finding that there of. Skeletons of people swarmed the plains of endless rock and stone, savoring all the light that landed on their skin yet starving in it. Once night fell, most would need to return to the holes from whence they came, for heaven forbid them be outside during the night or they would freeze and never move again, their shadows becoming permanent. During the day, the people thrived off of their own suffering as they find their morsels.

During the night, the beasts were let out.

Once all the fragments of man had returned to their caves and clothes and the moon made it's appearance, brute force took over. Those who had something, those who had whatever amount of food in their bellies, those who chose life came from their death like silence and roamed the lands. They were the ones that saw the potential. They were the ones who were lucky enough to have items of worth. These people were the ones that truly prospered. But only prospered with death all around. These people fought, these people murdered, and these people licked blood of their hands. These horrors were the reason the Earth seemed so plain to the low lives. The reason it seemed so dry and coarse and with nothing to live off of. They took it for themselves, they stole it, and left nothing behind.

Of course, here was always something, and of course, not all parts had been discovered, but this was when he came out. When the smell of blood was in the air and the fire burned in their eyes. The dead of night.

Image The stars burned brightly and the moon was high in the sky, but there was little light provided that evening. Clouds lingered above with amusement, teasing the eye with flecks of starlight and casting eerie shadows. It only gave off not enough light for a portrait, but plenty enough for a silhouette of the sharp that contrasted the smooth sky. Protruding like a sore from the dark depths of his hood, the beak lifted into the air, the eyes behind the goggles flickering and wavering long the linings in the clouds. The short figure, along with the light cane by it's side, stood still on a mound of heavy concrete stones that had once been a shop. A lovely, small shop that was just dust in the sands of time.

The plague doctor looked down from the sky, eyes falling upon the black images that started to crawl out of their own homes. One at a time, men and woman joined the night owls and hissed at passerby's, gripping pieces of barbed wire and stone like it was bread. The pair of eyes watched the cogs turning and cranking in each of their tired heads, puzzling pieces that would never fit together for a makeshift weapon or container.

Underneath the white peak, a smile peered.

No one dared to venture near another survivor, not with their valuables. So to not disturb the vague peace, the bird figure stepped back in it's bare feet, kneeling down and disappearing behind the mound of rubble. Ears attentive to it's surroundings, the infamous smuggler awaited for the night's events to unfold.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ted Character Portrait: Echo Character Portrait: Timothy
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Here Lies Tales of the Cannibalistic Betrayer.


It was time for the predators to tightly fasten their gas masks and go seek prey. It is endless cycle of killing, feasting, then almost starving. If one killed too much and too wildly, the other prey would be scared off. And move somewhere the predator couldn't easily find them. Predators were certainly not lazy people but, traveling has it dangers. If a predator killed not so often and search for food the tradition way. Well then it risk starvation or becoming prey. Those were some of the many risks of being a cannibal. The other one was getting injured during hunting or getting ill. Or in Lord's case, Timothy's guardian, both.

The young but, certainly not inexperienced, Timothy hasn't left her hole yet. She was currently sitting crossed-legged with her hands on her knees. She hunched over mumbling nonsense. The useless noise distracted her from the shallow breathing of Lord. Also from the smell of fresh blood drifting through the gas mask filter. The welcoming scent danced around Timothy's nostrils. Taunting her like bad bad boy. But thanks to Lord's sacrifice, her belly was full. The day before they went out and killed young boy. Or a really short old man, she wasn't quite sure. However old that prey was, they had a pretty sturdy knife. The prey lodged the knife into Lord's side. Timothy did her best to kill the boy (eat him before his group came along) and drag her father back to their hole. She did her best to patch him up. Though her good might not be good enough. The man was basically immobile and there a useless predator. Therefore prey. And prey gets eaten... naturally.

Timothy still felt conflicted. She didn't have it in her to kill this man. But he was dying unless a miracle happened. Should she kill her savior now and eat him tomorrow? Or wait for him to bleed out then eat him? Both choices felt extremely wrong. The young predator must decide soon. The sickness inside of him was progressing. In this era, a simple head cold could equal death. Timothy knew her father was sick even before they went out haunting. Wait! Is it even safe to eat his body, if he's sick? And the plot thickens.

"Hey," a deep and soft voice coughed out. "I'm hungry. I let you have every piece of our guy the last night. Go return the favor." Lord was dressed in black and white. A white long cloak, black pants, and white boots. His gas mask had a gas cartridge in the front. Instead on the sides like Timothy's. It was also a white but, a much brighter white than his clothes. It gave an ironic heavenly glow. Through his wide goggles she can see his pale blue eyes. And a little bit of his skin becoming a whitish gray. The color reminded her of the clouds.

"Oh," was the only answer Timothy could answer. The woman grabbed her black backpack and brush off her brown spandex pants. She adjusted her black gas mask with the filter on the right. The predator wiggled her toes other her brown boots. Should get something or someone that's pretty small. Not in the mood for big game.. She then sighed and crawled out the hole like the beast she was. Any one closed by then did one of two things. Quickly scurried away from the hunter. Or tensed up and make themselves seem bigger than they was. Then quickly resuming the usual. The ones who tensed up were the wise ones. Only people for easy-picking scurry away like mice. And Timothy made note of it.

The young predator walked about not particularly for looking anything. She was too wrapped in her memories. Which was mistake. She ended up standing out, which caught the attention of the cocky. It wasn't even few moments before Timothy had someone swinging a metal bat at her head. The woman cried out and landed on the ground. Not exactly hurt but, completely shocked. "Give me ya food," the bat-man yelled holding the bat above his head. The cannibal quickly sits and reaches into her cloak

"I don't have any," Timothy responded holding the handle of a machete inside her cloak. The cocky batter raised the bat higher and gave out a beastly battle cry.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ted Character Portrait: Echo Character Portrait: Timothy
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Ted was talking to himself as he got ready for the night. "It's getting colder.. winter's coming. Wish I had a sled..Don't think I need me jacket tonight though." He talked as if there was someone there. To be honest he was getting a little lonely, but he was talking like there was someone with him. He gripped the handle of his hammer. His hand fit around it perfectly, but Ted wondered whether after all this time if the hammer was fitting to his hand or his hand to the hammer.

"I wonder what I'll find today." Although it was the end of the world, he still tried to be a little optimistic about it. "More tools I hope." He already had a hammer, but he wanted something else. Something that would remind him of his past at least. There was no point in waiting in his dwelling any longer. "Might as well head out." Ted headed out into the night, wondering who he would fight over whatever scraps that were left. He walked tall, watching others scurry out of their way, not wanting any trouble. It might of been bad, but it made Ted feel good. Some sense of power when everything has gone.

Two people hadn't moved though. They were too busy fighting, and Ted was curious. He could only see two figures, no details. "Someone's getting his ass kicked." When he got closer he saw it wasn't a he at all on the ground. some girl was getting beat up. Maybe it was just being lonely for so long that drove him to help her. Maybe it was hormones and hoping he might get something that drove him to help her. Maybe it was just the kindness of his heart. Whatever it was, Ted drove his hammer into the ribs of the attacker. That battle cry was replaced with a shriek of pain. When he hunched over, he hit him over the head.

He stood over the girl now, replacing the attacker. He wasn't going to be hostile. "You don't gotta give me good. But you do gotta give me a kiss." He stood there, not asking for much. Just holding his cheek out for her. He saved her life, she could at least give him a kiss right?

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ted Character Portrait: Echo Character Portrait: Timothy
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Image


These people, all these people out here right now, these people were the smart ones. These were the people who knew when to move to to the next scavenged area, when to back down or when to stand up, and they knew what was useful and what wasn't. They formed waves, essentially. There would be no such people around, then you may see one. Possibly two. Then the next day, they all were there. The next they were gone. They were like an untrustworthy herd. A herd of paranoid sheep that were all ripe for the picking of the wolf that watched eagerly nearby. These were his kind of people.

Except when they did that.

The elongated white snout upon Echo's face rested blissfully on a flat piece of concrete, his eyes peering through his protective goggles with the same eagerness as a child on Christmas eve. More accurately, a child on Christmas Eve getting a sneak peak at Imagehis new toys which were only just starting to be wrapped. They didn't drop like flies, not in any sense of the word. But when one fly did, the smuggler was always nearby like the omen of misfortune he so fondly represented.

Smugglers didn't have the best reputation in these parts. They were like black cats. They could provide guidance, gifts and supplies. Your shadowed angel that followed in your footsteps and gave you just what you needed in that moment. But they were also the gleam of evil that you saw in people's eyes. They meant desperateness, despair. Your only hope that could ever so easily flutter away into the sky. Oh, their reputation wasn't a very good one.

But his was worse.

Echo was known as the spawn of demons. He was no black cat. He was a vulture. A malevolent vulture. When you saw that dreaded beak in your eye, you either were worth something, or worth nothing. Either way, Echo's presence was more than just desperation. It meant agony. And it often meant death. Because you were either picked clean, forced to start over your already blood thirsty life, or you were breathing your last, and he was ready to put his resourcefulness to good use.

Because that was what smugglers were. It was a part of their two faced appearance. They were resourceful. If you needed something, they would be your best bet. But It could cost you more than what you can afford.

With a big whiff of the aggression in his nose, Echo smiled under his bizarre mask. A fight had broken out and he had started to slowly crawl towards the scene. Fingers twitching as the gripped the rubble. A man had taken a swing at a girl, knocking her down. His demand was throw away though with that gorgeous hammer. If it weren't for the night and the reflection on his goggles, his eyes would be sparkling like fireflies. Hammer.

"But you gotta give me a kiss." He repeated tilting his head slightly, pushing himself to stand up to his full 5'4 height. He cackled, smooching under his mask. But then he jumped away playfully posing his hands in front of his mouth. "I don't have any." He cackled even louder.

"But you do."

He stiffened, glancing at the hammer. His head twitched under his shady hood. "And you do."He turned to the girl. Her hand was subtle, but not enough for trained eyes.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ted Character Portrait: Echo Character Portrait: Timothy
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Here Lies Tales of the Cannibalistic Betrayer.


"You don't gotta give me food. But you do gotta give me a kiss," said the man with the hammer. For the first time ever, Timothy was a complete loss for words. Given she doesn't talk much but, she couldn't respond. That statement thrown her off so much, she didn't even know how to feel or think. Most women would either be embarrassed or angry. The young hunter was... concerned? Out of everything, a kiss is what this fellow demands? Not food, weapons, traps, bandages, information, or for her to join his group. No, a kiss. Timothy never seen anyone kiss before. She assumed that it was a Earth 1.0 thing. That went extinct with the majority of the population. Kissing was something to add in a poem to make it more romantic. Was the hammer guy insane, sick, or simply ignorant. Timothy felt sorry for him. A good part of her wanted to do it. She was going to do it, then ruffle his hair/mask , go on back to her hole. Lord warned that there's pattern to everything. A disruption to that pattern, like a strange day, would only turn worse. The best thing to do is come back to base.

However it was too late to do any of that. A white and silver beak entered her line of vision. Her playful concern for the hammer-guy left her mind. She went on high alert, going completely rigid. Though it wasn't visible under her mask. She began chewing her left cheek - bad habit. While the smuggler was mocking Mr. Hammer. Laughing at them both like a demon that was too playful. The young predator got up. "But you do," the bird said glancing at the hammer. "And you do," he said glancing Timothy's hand. Which she casually let fall to her side. While mentally prepared herself for a fight.

"We have nothing to give you," she said glancing a Mr. Hammer. Mentally ordering him to go a long with her. The man with the bird mask was unpredictable and dangerous.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ted Character Portrait: Echo Character Portrait: Timothy
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Ted wasn't sure if he was going to get a kiss or not. He was really hoping he would, but he wouldn't harm her to force her to. He thought it would of only startled her and he wouldn't actually get one, but she was getting ready. Was he really going to get a kiss? When was the last time he talked to someone else let alone had a kiss? He yelled at people to get away from his stuff, or shouted in rage before he swung them down. Was it months? How long was a month? Were months still the same with the different seasons and rotation? Would that make years shorter too? Ted's spent too much time talking to himself. Maybe that's why no one wanted to be near him, thought he was a little delusional. He wasn't doing too well to prove otherwise, hitting someone with a hammer and asking for a kiss. That none of that mattered he was going to get a kiss! Not just some measly communication to, but a kiss!

He stood there waiting for someone from the girl he just saved but instead a giant bird was talking to him? He reacted appropriately with a scream. "Ah! Ah! Ah!" Why was there a giant bird? Did nuclear plant go up when the comet hit? Did they get bigger because of the lack of predators? But how would they learn to talk? Ted was worried all of this might be getting to him but was he really losing his mind? Why was a giant bird talking to him. After the shock of a giant bird talking to him subsided, he took a closer look. It was just a mask.. He was slightly embarrassed, but he was still on edge and a little mad. It scared him for nothing and embarrassed him, but most of all this ruined his chance to get a kiss. Who knew when that would ever come around again. "I don't have any." it said with a laugh. Now that thing was taunting him? It barely made it up to his shoulders! Ted snarled but no one could see it under his mask. They might of been able to hear a slight growl, muffled by his mask. He wanted his hammer now? No way in hell was he giving that up.

At least the girl who was going to give him a kiss felt the same way about it. Maybe not that she was full of rage, but she was ready to fight it. "We have nothing to give you." She looked to Ted, wanting him to get ready too. Maybe if he listened she would be happy and maybe he could still get that kiss.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Ted Character Portrait: Echo Character Portrait: Timothy
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Image


The world that Echo lived in was almost entirely made up of screams, growls, and moans. Whether it was because of pain, intimidation, or anger, it filled the air ever day and every night. He was actually starting to become deaf to it. It was just noise now, almost as common as the rustling of scampering feet. But that scream was awful.

What in heaven's name would make that noise?!

Echo was taken aback, and was literally taken back, having jumped a good foot away and crouching down on the ground. He looked way up to the tall man, wide eyes blinking. "Ah. Ah... Ah?" Echo knew that animals were far more Imagedangerous than they had been before the comet, but he's never had anyone scream in fear of him before. Unless of course the man was simply afraid of birds. They were as terrifying as mystery itself. Did that mean his fancy beak was giving off the same demeanor? He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. Hm...

The stranger had finished his panic attack in the time it took the smuggler to regain his bearings. The jarring experience made his mind go blank, but they were back and were welcomed with a smile. A smile and a tilt of his head. Crouching on the balls of his feet as if on a perch, the short man looked up at the pair, elbows on his knees. He enjoyed how clever people were. And how ignorant they were. Because even though the girl's response was casual, you can't unsee what you saw. And he knew.

"Give?" He snapped his crooked gaze at her. "Oh, no, no, no." The hooded beak shook it's head. His fingers rolled as if to pet a delicate ball in the air,"I'm not fond of gifts." His hands clasped each other tightly. He seemed very interested in the lovely pair for a while, slowly nodding his head as if to daze off into another world. But really, his hands were puzzle pieces coming together. All he needed was the pieces he as missing.

"No." He lifted a finger into the air, his body following it until he was on his toes, dirty from the bare travel. "Not a gift nor a loss from me." His hand grazed the air and fell upon his stomach with his chin- er-beak, high. "But a barter for the poor sartor?"

Setting

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Character Portrait: Ted Character Portrait: Echo Character Portrait: Timothy
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Here Lies Tales of the Cannibalistic Betrayer.



"But a barter for a the poor sartor" said the strange bird creature. It took a while for the young predator to know what barter and sartor meant. It's not like there is any school systems anymore. Plus no one talks like this bird anymore. No one talks in this world anymore. This is Timothy's first conversation with some else besides Lord in years. These men unease her. The bird more than Mr. Hammer. Yet she had to admit it is nice. This world is so quiet. The loudest things in this area are the screams and the wind. At times it's seemed like everything would go still. And one could hear tiny pebbles roll off large mounds of rubble. Or hear the dust settle against a surface. It would seem this world is peaceful.

But it's not. It's lonely. Life is almost nonexistent. Lord once told Timothy that a lot people were scared of UFO's. Thought aliens would take over earth. The humans of Earth 2.0 didn't have the worry. No alien would want this broken planet. "You mean, you want me to help you or something," Timothy finally answered after a pregnant pause. Honestly don't have time for this. I need to be with Lord. At this moment Lord is probably a pale corpse waiting to be chewed on. That realization was hard blow in Timothy's gut. What if I missed his death because I was playing around with these fools.

Yes, part of her still wonders if she should eat Lord or not. However another part, a part belonging to the ideals of humanity, wanted to be with her father. Comfort him in his last moment. But, what could she say to comfort him? Nothing. "I-" Timothy was going to say I won't help in anyway. That I have more important matters. But what if she just brought more attention on herself? What if the bird was predator as well? She felt rapid flow of anger. I don't want anybody eating his body. Do I even want to see his body?. The plot is now confusing.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Ted Character Portrait: Echo Character Portrait: Timothy
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Image


Ted didn't know what was going on, but he knew he didn't like it. And he hasn't gotten a kiss yet. Maybe he would get two, like interest or something. For having to wait. Maybe that was too optimistic. Should find out what's going on first, worry about smooches later This thing was now crouching and tilting his head. Is it really a bird? Was it gonna lay an egg? It was soon standing up with a finger, refusing a 'gift.' Something he never would of gotten anyway. Why was the girl worried about giving anyway? It's not like the birdman was going to threaten them. What would he do? Peck them to death? Ted's mind was full of thoughts, some racing through it. But some were ungracefully and disastrously slow.

"But a barter for the poor sartor." What? What in the world is a sartor? Ted knew what a barter was, he heard of the term before. Was it a singer? No, that's a bard.. then what's barter.. oh a trade! A trade. An exchange of wealth. Bending over, he picked up the bat from the attacker. "mine.." His mumbled words only muffled by the mask. He knew that the bat had some value to it. This guy wasn't going to get Ted's hammer, he held that near to his heart. He always had it and it served him well. But if he really wanted to trade with him, maybe Ted could get something for the bat.

So he stood there, his hammer in one hand and a bat in another. Waiting for something to happen. Does he want to right now? How does this work? Does he even have anything? Maybe it's under his clothes. It can't be anything too big.. While Ted was there thinking, the girl answered a little more politely than he would of. "You mean, you want me to help you or something" He finally spoke up. "Labor?" Ted had done that a couple times before. Mostly it was moving rubble from entrances so people could loot the insides. They would pay him in food most of the time. Some girls had given him a kiss in thanks, which still hasn't happened. Because this bird guy wants something. "What do you want?"