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 Oz Rikash, Chaos
Ozymandias Rikash
Posted: Jun 10 2008, 09:59 PM
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Group: Members
Posts: 13
Member No.: 695
Joined: 10-June 08



Username: Ozymandias (Oz or Ozy)
Age: 12

The Basics
Name: Ozymandias Rikash
Codename: Chaos
Nicknames: Oz or Ozy
Affiliation: X Men, Eidolon

Powers
Powers: Anything Oz touches instantly begins to decay. Put very simply, their half life (element or not) is cut into a small fraction (.0001 % to be closer to exact) of what it had been. For example, if an isotope of Nitrogen had a half life of 48 days; it would decay and break down in about 4.15 seconds. Of course elements or material with longer half lives such as Carbon-14 take longer to break down. The second part that ties into this power is complicated and completely passive. For every substance, Oz decays, the amount of time it takes to break down is added to his life span. However this is not entirely a useful thing. (See weaknesses)

Limit: Oz can only break down about ten pounds of material in one time. Because of this when he does use his power, Oz has to think more and strategize rather than grabbing a building and hoping he touched its key stone.
As for what he can break down, this is not limited to Organic or inorganic materials, but there are limits as to bond strength. For example, a hydrogen bond would be easier to break apart than decyne. The more bonds (more complex the molecule) the harder it is to break down.
For a material like wood or concrete which is made up of thousands of different materials, bonds, and elements, the limit is slightly different. When it comes to these complex substances, organic materials are easier to break down and complex metals are completely out of his reach (though hopefully not forever). Something like a bullet, which is mainly made up of lead, is challenging but not impossible to break down.
Oz’s hands are where the power is most concentrated. If his bare skin from any other part of his body touched something, it only affects organic material (so his clothes don’t drop off every few seconds).


Weaknesses: There are a few weaknesses about Oz and his power. The first is that he does not control it. If his skin comes in contact with anything the process begins. But it also ends as soon as Oz breaks contact. The down side of his second power is quiet simply that although Oz can lengthen his life span, he does not slow his aging. He could gain enough power and energy to live hundreds of years, but he would still wither up until he became confined to a wheelchair and nursing home.

Looks
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Eyes: Hazel Grey
Hair: Brown
Skin: Tan
Height: 5’ 10”
Build: Lean/Slim

Better Detaiul: Oz is the kind of man who people tend to not notice. He is of rather average height with only slightly pale skin. He has a few freckles sprinkled across his face. Oz’s hair is a dark mocha color which contrasts quite fittingly to his visage. Lose strands escape from the normal pattern and brush down over eyes that seem to waver between hazel and gray. Oz looks a year or two younger than he is.

Oz does carry guns, unlike many pacifist mutants he has met. Oz isn’t specifically aggressive, but he understands the idea behind self defense, or, you know, threatening the big drunk outside a bar so you can take his motorcycle for a joy ride through the restricted weapon testing facilities. Just the usual fun. Oz carries an average sized hand gun that his strapped in a holster on his left hip, and a hunting riffle that a genius mechanic friend of his rigged up to have more power behind its shots. Oz’s not a great shot, but he’s decent enough to find time to run away.

Oz is about five feet and ten inches tall. He does not consider himself tall, although he is taller than either of his parents. Oz is very thin and his height adds to a gangly but neither impressive nor memorable appearance. Oz weighs about one hundred and twenty three pounds and the muscle on him looks weaker than it is. Oz isn’t specifically strong or fast, but he’s adequately so and can pull his own weight (all 123 lbs of it). Oz is left handed for the most part. But when he actually fights or (hopefully eventually) flies the jet, he never shows a favoring of either hand. But anywhere else, Oz’s left hand is the dominant one.

There is only one memorable thing about Oz, and it’s not the type of thing that initially attracts attention. One the back of his hand is a distinct tattoo. The picture is of the wolf that once inhabitant many forests across the USA and is now more and more rare. The red ink depicts a majestic canine, his proud head lifted between Oz’s thumb and index finger joints. It’s long and full tail curls up dominantly to wrap slightly around the base of Oz’s pinky. Its body runs under his knuckles and the wolf’s two back paws and front left paw line with his wrist just where the ulna and radius meet with the carpal bones. . Its right paw is lifted up and bent slightly, running down over metacarpal of his thumb.


Clothes: Even Oz’s clothing seems to come across on the sullen teenage side rather then moving into adulthood. He normally wears a black thing hoodie that he leaves zipped up half way. The hood is always over his head when he can get away with it and often covers his eyes. Under that is usually some dark colored short sleeved shirt with abstract and line art designs on them. Oz also has a pair of black gloves that he doesn’t remove unless he is absolutely forced to. They are designed to be waterproof because he can’t even take them off in the shower. The special thing about these gloves is that the inside is fused with a flexible complex metal alloy so that they will not deteriorate as he wears them. The rest of his attire is rather normal though. He wears his sneakers on his feet, and his underwear under his pants.

Battle Outfit: Oz really doesn’t change at all. Seeing as he’s never been in a battle and thinks that super heroes in their suits look like idiots.

Personal Details
Family and Friends: Family:
Aunt Sara
Diane (Mother)
Jacob (Father)

Birthday: 3/13/1992
Personality: Oz is a very determined person. But deep down he’s still just a kid. Sometimes he finds himself wishing that he could just go off and muck around. Hang out with a bunch of friends and train together. But when ever he thinks about this he remembers that he is not a normal kid. He was taught all his life that something was wrong with him and that adults were always right. But now, he finds himself straying towards a more independent course.

Oz is a semi-serious young man. He can take a joke but he rarely tells them and tries to only shots off insults in a fight if he thinks it will help. His silence can normally be rather unnerving to his opponent. Oz is very competitive. He wanders around sometimes, trying to challenge anyone else to a competition, no matter what their standing or skill is. He seems to be at most at ease when he has a challenge. It doesn’t matter if that challenge is a mission, a fight, or even a race to the academy to see who is fast; Oz never backs down from a goal once he’s put up to it. Sometimes this is expressed as pigheadedness or stubbornness. Sometimes his sheer will power can push him through a fight he would otherwise lose.

Oz seems sort of secretive to most people. No one has ever seen him without his black gloves and many students in his old home tried to remove them. One kid nearly got it before Oz ended up breaking his arm. It is so far a mystery as to what would happen if a teacher asked him to remove them, for Oz is generally obedient due to his inferiority complex. He will do anything to further his strength and training. Unfortunately, Oz can be slightly gullible due to his upbringing to trust every word an older person tells him.

Something that not many seem to think is that Oz loves reading. He spends every minute he can practicing and trying to learn control, but when his body is pushed to his over all limit, he spends his time recovering and reading about anything from a mystery novel, to a text book on physics.

Likes:
1. Ice Cream
2. Fresh Air
3. Basket Ball
4. Music (Listening and Playing)
5. Reading
Dislikes:
1. Smoking
2. Alcohol
3. Jocks
4. Health Food/Heath Nuts (The people kind)

Hobbies:
1. Playing Guitar
2. Reading
3. Shooting/Hunting
4. Frisbee

Fears:
1. Human Contact (started before he got his powers but grew after that)
2. Death/Pain
3. Pigs (inexplainable)

History: Oz was born in Australia while his parents were at a retreat far from civilization. That was where they lived until he was almost seven years old. For that point in time they latterly cut themselves off from the world. His father taught him to hunt and even his mother knew how to shot rather well. Up until that point Oz had very little contact with other people and spent much of his time alone. It was not that he was anti-social; he was just bored of having only his parents to talk to. A lot of his time Oz spent trying to learn how to shoot, though he was only every mediocre about it. So when Oz was eight, he went to live with his aunt in Las Vegas. She was single and a rather cool person. Although she did not specifically like children, Oz thought she was great. Every night they went to the Casinos and bet. Oz of course wasn’t allowed to actually bet, but he sat next to his aunt while she played Black Jack. It didn’t take long for Oz to pick up the strategy for counting cards and soon his aunt was happy to have him tagging along.

When Oz turned fourteen, his parents came back from Australia and took him back. Oz was pleased to be with his mom and dad again, but soon discovered their views were different from his aunt’s. They believed that he should be submissive and respectfully and ended up cutting him off from this aunt who was a ‘bad influence on his moral character’. By the time a year had past, Oz had developed and extreme inferiority complex when it came to adults around him. He stopped counting cards and gambling, or going to parties with his friends. More and more Oz’s parents drew him inward instead of letting him integrate social. He would spend hours out in the woods hunting, secluded in quiet, accepting nature.

When Oz was fifteen, the unthinkable happened. He was out in the football field at school when it happened. A girl, one of the cheerleaders in fact, asked him if he wanted to go out with her. Oz, being the kind of guy who wanted nothing more than a really girlfriend, accepted. But it blew up in his face. The girl was just fooling with him and the foot ball team was hiding behind the bleachers with a video camera. They ended up pulling it as far as one of those stupid pranks.

The jocks tied Oz to the goal post and stripped him down to just his boxers. It wasn’t cold, but the night still would not have been pleasant. As the older teens tormented Oz, his mutation manifested. With the amount of bare skin he had against the goal post, it rusted away in only a matter of minutes.

But his problems were not over. The jocks still had had their video camera, and the next morning on the 7 O’clock news, footage of Oz destroying the pole was released. After that, his parents couldn’t disown him fast enough. Oz left the town and high school, going from city to city, trying to finish school before getting kicked out. But everywhere he went, they eventually found out.

Until he was seventeen. Then he found the perfect thing. Though it claimed to be a school for the gifted, Oz soon learned the school he had landed in was not for the snotty preps, but others like him. Mutants shunned from the world. And so Oz had come to Xavier’s Academy for Gifted Students.

Now what Oz wants more than anything, is to make something of himself. He wants to be able to look back and say, ‘I was there. I helped.’

Other:

N/A

RP SAMPLE

Quiet and bar did not go together. But Ari already knew that. He had been drumming his fingers on the table, land jitters setting in. There was a fight raging behind him, but the boy hardly paid attention. He had always found the places mildly amusing. They didn’t even seem to care that he was under age. This last thought was punctuated as the bartender set down a glass of clear liquid in front of him. Of course, it wasn’t alcohol, it was merely water. Ari had never drunk before in his life; spirits did little wonder for reflexes.

A drunk crashed into Ari, knocking him off his stool. Ari yelled something in protest, but the words were lost as the man’s heft buried him. “Gerrof me Gorram it.” Ari said, heaving up with his legs until the over sized dead weight rolled off him. The out of work pilot sighed and looked at his drink. It was spilled. A sigh escaped his lips. There went three credits. He turned and faced the brawl. Maybe the fight would clear out some of the nervous energy building up inside him. The boy looked down at himself and found his common sense wishing he was more muscled.

But to hell with common sense. He stepped forward, ducking a punch and slamming his knee into some man’s groin. “That was terribly rude.” He informed the man who had tried to hit him as drunken eyes rolled back in pain. A second blow came at him, and this one struck home. Ari felt his vision gray for a second as knuckled split against the side of his head. The boy stumbled and kicked out blindly. His foot hit something soft and the sound of vomiting told him it was his assailant’s stomach.

Ari looked in disgust at the lunch left over that tainted the side of his shoe. “I hate drunks.” He muttered, but then again. This was fun. He however certain had a strange version of fun. Too polite to punch just anyone, Ari stood in the middle of the fight, dealing blows only to those who attacked him.

Jelly like arms wrapped around Ari’s chest, pinning his arms. Some guy, he must have weighed at least three hundred pounds, pressed Ari up against his bulging stomach. Ari grimaced. “Okay. That is gross, and this is gonna hurt.” He said almost calmly and he was flying through the air. He hit the bar wall painfully, but it wasn’t as bad as he had thought to would be. And he had enjoyed the flying part. But Jelly man roared and was charging at him. Ari swore, his stream of fluent curses so mixed up between English and Chinese they hardly sounded like real words. He waited until the last moment and dropped to the side, rolling under a table. Jelly man ran face first into the wall and toppled backwards.

Ari chuckled and emerged from his hiding place. He was about the join the fray again when a ham fist closed on his ankles. So Jelly Man wasn’t so stupid. His eyes were open and lucid as he tripped Ari up.

“You’re gonna be squished shrimp.”

The man’s breath smelled horrible as he leaned over the fallen boy. But always the clown, Ari pulled a face. “Squished shrimp? I’ve never had that before. Is it any good?” His pert gray eyes twinkled mischievously and he snapped up, slamming his head into Jelly Man’s face. Nose blood soaked his hair and Ari groaned. That was gross. “I took a shower an hour ago.” He complained as he wriggled out from under the man and took off. Someone else could take care of Jelly man. Ari would take someone slightly smaller.

The Jelly man roared like a beast and crashed towards Ari, tossing a small rat like man out of the way. Ari grimaced and backed up against the bar. No escape. His eyes flicked down to his carbine, but he shook his head. It was one thing to fight. He didn’t want to kill anyone in something this trivial. So instead he used a pair of pots. His fingers closed on the handles and slammed against the sides of the man’s head. This time the drop seemed solid. Authentic. But Ari got out of there pretty damn fast anyway. He skirted Jelly Man’s enormous lump of flesh and waded back into the fight.

“Well, that was fun.”

((Note: My posts normally may not be this long depending on my time frame.))

This post has been edited by Ozymandias Rikash on Jun 11 2008, 07:52 PM
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Torrent
Posted: Jun 11 2008, 02:21 PM
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Resident Ferruppy :3
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Group: Admin
Posts: 858
Member No.: 52
Joined: 29-November 04



Hi, yes, lovely bio - I just have a few questions because I've long forgotten the ways of half life and such. Decay, however, strikes in me the image of... well... decay, rotting, no longer in existence. You said he couldn't control this powers yet he's still able to wear clothes and carry guns? Why wouldn't they fall off him? Just let me know, thanks.

Are you really twelve? The submission seems to surpass any capabilities of any twelve year old I've ever met ><
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Ozymandias Rikash
Posted: Jun 11 2008, 03:45 PM
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Human
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Group: Members
Posts: 13
Member No.: 695
Joined: 10-June 08



Decay as in break down. In every natural chemical reaction a certain amount of energy is lost. So it is technically decay. And saying Break down too many times was getting repetitive. As for the cloths, I only just realized that problem this afternoon. The gloves I suppose could be fused with adamantium on the inside. The rest of his clothing...I could do that same thing but it's be hard. I'll have to give that a little more thought.

As for the guns, as long as his gloves are on he's not in direct contact with his skin.

And yea, I really am 12. I just like writing.
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Ozymandias Rikash
Posted: Jun 11 2008, 07:52 PM
Mew!


Human
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Group: Members
Posts: 13
Member No.: 695
Joined: 10-June 08



Okay, I edited his power slightly so the clothing thing won't be a problem anymore.
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Torrent
Posted: Jun 11 2008, 08:06 PM
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Resident Ferruppy :3
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Group: Admin
Posts: 858
Member No.: 52
Joined: 29-November 04



Alright! Looks good! Thanks for clarifying everything and making necessary adjustments <3 You're a doll. Approved! And welcome to the site.
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