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William Toffler

0 · 894 views · located in Tauvyr Tavern

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Nevermore90

Description

_________Description_________

Wylf

Gender: MaleHair Color : Brown
Age: 24Eye Color : Amber
Sexuality: HeterosexualHeight: 6'0''
Ethnicity: White/CaucasianWeight: 135
Image





_________Personality_________


Fears: Dying, starvation, being buried alive, burning, freezing, avalanches, dragons, zombies, disease.

Likes: Large dogs, stabbing implements, magics, (his own) chauvinism.

Dislikes: Being upstaged, large crowds, running.




_________History_________


Bio:


Wylf lives (sleeps and eats) on the same "Plane" or "Level of existence" that the Gambit's Bar is generally considered to be occupying. He spends more of his time, however, in the freezing, mountainous abyss of Cragynstan (referred to by other names in other languages). In Cragynstan, goblins, orcs, elves, humans, gnomes, and intelligent badgers fight each-other in an almost all-out free-for-all war over nothing in particular than a mutual dislike. The normal staple of fantastic creatures liven up the various battles-dragons melt ice caps and flood valleys, giant birds of prey swoop up whole horses-but play little major role.
Cragynstan is devoid of "Common" materials like cobalt, metals than can't be worked into tools. It has plenty of precious gems, gold, and a freak vein of silver known as "Moonstone" by the elves of (rough translation) "Holy Rock" by goblins. Iron, bronze, coal, wood, and rock are all plenty common to hold a medieval war; no guns, bombs, or tanks.
Speaking of which-the warring groups of Cragynstan have had a long-respected treaty against firearms, percussion weapons, chemical agents, or explosives. Everyone agrees it is far too unfair if a wizard or sorcerer (such as Wylf) could simply "Poof" to Gambit's, buy a nuke, "Poof" back, and end the war. I mean, where's the fun in that? There isn't any at all, and it defeats the purpose of clubbing each-other upside the head.
In addition, there's a give-and-take policy with armor. No power armor, no electronics, nothing can't be made of reasonably organic materials or such as can be found in Cragynstan. Ballistic armors, like kevlar or BDUs, have only recently (and begrudgingly) been allowed into combat. The gasmask Wylf wears is under heavy debate (and if he loses the debate he will be sentenced to a violent and humiliating death), as is his use of magically-induced chemical warfare. (He didn't produce a bomb, he did what anyone can do, so what's the problem?)

The difference between a wizard and a sorcerer is as important as it is small. A wizard, or "Book magician," reads a scroll or an ancient tomb to learn his spells. He must steady, memorize, and specialize.
A sorcerer, or "Born magician," has an innate ability he or she taps to use his or her magic. This is usually because either a powerful-enough wizard higher on the family tree had children or a dragon (or equally-magical creature) shape-shifted and had fervent child-making sessions. Wylf is of the latter (a sorcerer, not a dragon's bastard child).
Wylf is capable of spontaneously developing characteristics necessary to save Nevermore90's reputation, quite on a whim. He started to sing at perfect pitch, painted an epic battle involving tiger-dragons violently applying their sexual organs as weapons against the penguin-hating lesser-hoblins of the west Andes, and sculpted an exact 1:10 figurine of himself to full detail. Just because he can.
Those items however poofed out of Gambit's existence and into Wylf's house back in Cragystan.

So begins...

William Toffler's Story

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William Toffler ordered a bottle of absinthe they could share. If he couldn't smoke, he was still going to get his buzz, dammit. "What happened? Er... is it too personal?" He nodded to the bartender, then looked back at her. "Uh... Swap stories'r somethin'?"

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William Toffler furrowed his brows and fixed his hair (it was out of place from his hood and mask, now removed). "Then why're you so sad? Ye sound like a right genius, 'eh?"

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William Toffler sighed. "If you don't want to tell the whole story, you're only gettin' prt'a mine, lass." He looked up when the 'tender came with a bottle of clear, pure alcohol. "Thanks, keep the change." He always overpaid whenever he had money, which tonight he did. The 'tender also brought to glasses; he poured Sonya a drink and put it in front of her. "Enjoy, lass." He waited for her to drink first.
Christian skipped his notice.

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William Toffler looked over his shoulder. "Oi, I thought ye left. Ye mind? I'm talkin' to someone. Give me a second."

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William Toffler smiled that wide, "Oh fuck I'm caught" smile shown on Jerry Springer a million times. "Heh, sir, no. Go fuck your wife, or my friend here is... well, this escalated quickly, but that's pretty fucking hot and I support it completely."

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William Toffler put his hands up. "Buddy, I'm not looking for trouble. Your wife told me she was married, and I backed off. You should be thanking me; she's already a drink closer to bed."

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William Toffler grabbed Sonya's arm. "Hey hey, c'mon! That's sweet'n'all but we're fine. I can handle this."

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William Toffler 's immunity to auto-killing attacks was transferable. He dispelled the fire with a gust of wind, got to his feet, and raised his spear. "I said sorry. Fuck off."

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William Toffler 's got wide, frustrated. "I SAID FUCKING SORRY. Now go sit down and stop being a fag."

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William Toffler rolled his eyes. "Well I apologized to your wife. You clearly see it was a mistake and I'm not trying to sleep with her, so calm your fucking nips."

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William Toffler flicked his spear around in as show-offy a fashion as possible and created a ball of fire in his right hand. "I'm not going to hurt your wife, but she will."

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William Toffler rolled his eyes again and put his spear down. "I'm good, I'm good..." The fire didn't go away.

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William Toffler sighed. "Dude, fucking go!"

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William Toffler touched Sonya's bicep. "Ma'am, uh... Sonya." He waited for the man to leave, assuming he was smart enough to. "That uh... I feel rude saying that was hot, but... it was. And we've got a bottle of absinthe to decide what to do about it over." (if he doesn't go, William says it as soon as he does)

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William Toffler recoiled. "O-ow..." he was glad his gloves were still on. He made a mental note to get some rubber ones at some point. "If ye'd still care to drink, lass?"

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William Toffler started laughing hysterically. "Wing City? 'Local Authorities'? You're fucking kidding me, right? Like, that's a joke? Like Wing City has fuckin' police!"
Then Sonya left. What the fuck? He stopped laughing.

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William Toffler rolled his eyes. "God dam you're pathetic. Piss off."

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"This isn't my city, fuckhead. I don't live here."

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figured that if someone hypothetically were to take a sidejob like that, the Zar Republic must have a really lazy country...

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William Toffler poofed back out of Gambit's existence. He wasn't getting laid tonight, apparently.

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William Toffler poofed back in just long enough to get in Siri's way. "Your husband is a paranoid fucking retard, by the way." And again he was gone.

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William Toffler poofed back into the bar. He grabbed the bottle of absinthe he had left and took a swig straight from the bottle.

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William Toffler watched Kit enter. He got up (taking his spear in one hand, bottle of absinthe in the other, and his mask under one arm) and walked over as casually as he could. "G'day, lass. I bought a bit too much for mehself'n'wasn't plannin' on spendin' a night in the alley. It'd do me a great favor to share this drink."

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William Toffler sat down. That was as good a "Yes" as he needed. The bartender handed them two glasses while William put his assorted items on the table out of their area and took the bottle back to pour them each a glass. He put the bottle down. "What's yer name, lass?"

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William Toffler poured her a second glass before he could get to his first. "Wylf, is what everyone calls me."