((The vagabond could tell this man had heard more then a few stories. He scratched his chin for a bit before saying “Ah, I think I know something you’ll like.”))

((“Top that.” said the vagabond before leaning closer to the warm fire.))

Ian stood on the edge of the toxic fields. Mother had often scolded him for playing too close, but today was no day for games. Today was the day he would follow in his father’s footsteps to become a brave hero.

Mother told him every night about his father’s brave deeds. Some monster he had fought, or some person he had saved. Mother ended… Read more

Hello. I’m not sure on proper forum eticate or anything like that, but I wanted to write some kind of story relating to this (Post WWIII) world. Basically this beginning is an apology if I am somehow acting “out-of-line” with this post, and an explanation for what I envision this forum in particular to be. I think it would be cool if we could… Read more

I’ve been thinking about his ability to talk. I think it would be in short somewhat clipped sentences that are almost instinctive. He would rely more on action to convey thought rather then words.

Name: Lagarto Verde
Age: 16
Bio: I used to play around the toxic sludge pits as a child when a slip into the pool turned me into a mutant. Now I’m not exactly “human”. Actually, not ‘human” at all. Mostly lizard. I rely on my natural abilities and monster strength. I’m not quite sure how I feel on the whole kill-the-monsters thing that has… Read more