Roleplaying Gary Stu
Hi there. I've been lurking for a long time, but this is my first post.
I originally found this posted on bad_rpers_suck, and the sheer Gary Stu-ishness of it prompted me to post it here. I hope I'm not breaking any rules by posting a Gary Stu from an RPG here -- if I am, please let me know, and I'll remove the post.
Story Or Series Title: Changeling: the Dreaming RPG
Fandom: n/a
Culprit Author's Name: Matt, a/k/a "Falcon"
Full Name (plus titles if any): Dante "Ironheart" of House Scathach
Full Species(es): Changelingus Garystuius
Hair Color (include adjectives): "The living darkness that wraps closer than a lover's long since parted touch is more palpable, more breathtaking than that of his shoulder long hair, streaked as it is in silver as if moonbeams could have been solid enough to slice through a crushing night."
Eye Color (include adjectives): "Ice has cracked out from his eyes, too bitter cold to be held inside any longer. Like mourning tears, the cracks of cold to rival death's caress claw their way out from his wintery eyes, burrowed their trails along the flesh near them."
Unusual Markings/Colorations: "Frozen eyes" and scales (!) along his "temple and jaw."
Special Possessions (if any): A laugh that's "bitter as winter" and a smile that is "beautiful in the way of broken glass and shattered bodies." (WTF?)
Annoying Origin: Not sure if this applies
Annoying Connections To Canon Characters: Ditto
Annoying Special Abilities: Wanted, "Dead or Alive" in no less than four of the seven kingdoms in this game for crimes including murder, treason, kidnapping, and the like (rap sheet here), and still somehow walking around free.
Other Annoying Traits: A great many -- you can find them here
Please include a small sample of the worst of this story:
There is a tale told of days and ages long past that a wicked creature once broke a winter queen's mirror, that its shards plunged into hearts and eyes. Over the lives and the aches, perhaps he had pulled them all together, for there is little other pleasant explanation for this sidhe's visage.
To call his gaze unsettling is to mention offhandedly that the ocean is a bit damp today, and has anyone seen that salt shaker? Scales have settled along his hair line, along the jaw, trailing down to the edges in that creeping suggestion that strikes true and deep, a knife barbed in viscera and just as undeniable, just as painful to look upon. The thought strikes, yes - cold blooded. He is nothing, if he is not cold. The callousness is there in every stride, every arrogant smirk of his lips - a heart that knows death, and hands that sow its poisoned seeds...Like mourning tears, the cracks of cold to rival death's caress claw their way out from his wintery eyes, burrowed their trails along the flesh near them.
His laugh was bitter as winter, his smile was rare, beautiful in the way of broken glass and shattered bodies. To linger too long under his gaze was to feel the chill cutting down to bone, past the marrow, to places that nobody should be able to touch and to freeze to the point of shaking, to shattering. He could have been a winter king, but he was not. Death has no need for a bride, when the feast of darkness is naught but ashes, and its drink sorrow enough to drown in.
I originally found this posted on bad_rpers_suck, and the sheer Gary Stu-ishness of it prompted me to post it here. I hope I'm not breaking any rules by posting a Gary Stu from an RPG here -- if I am, please let me know, and I'll remove the post.
Story Or Series Title: Changeling: the Dreaming RPG
Fandom: n/a
Culprit Author's Name: Matt, a/k/a "Falcon"
Full Name (plus titles if any): Dante "Ironheart" of House Scathach
Full Species(es): Changelingus Garystuius
Hair Color (include adjectives): "The living darkness that wraps closer than a lover's long since parted touch is more palpable, more breathtaking than that of his shoulder long hair, streaked as it is in silver as if moonbeams could have been solid enough to slice through a crushing night."
Eye Color (include adjectives): "Ice has cracked out from his eyes, too bitter cold to be held inside any longer. Like mourning tears, the cracks of cold to rival death's caress claw their way out from his wintery eyes, burrowed their trails along the flesh near them."
Unusual Markings/Colorations: "Frozen eyes" and scales (!) along his "temple and jaw."
Special Possessions (if any): A laugh that's "bitter as winter" and a smile that is "beautiful in the way of broken glass and shattered bodies." (WTF?)
Annoying Origin: Not sure if this applies
Annoying Connections To Canon Characters: Ditto
Annoying Special Abilities: Wanted, "Dead or Alive" in no less than four of the seven kingdoms in this game for crimes including murder, treason, kidnapping, and the like (rap sheet here), and still somehow walking around free.
Other Annoying Traits: A great many -- you can find them here
Please include a small sample of the worst of this story:
There is a tale told of days and ages long past that a wicked creature once broke a winter queen's mirror, that its shards plunged into hearts and eyes. Over the lives and the aches, perhaps he had pulled them all together, for there is little other pleasant explanation for this sidhe's visage.
To call his gaze unsettling is to mention offhandedly that the ocean is a bit damp today, and has anyone seen that salt shaker? Scales have settled along his hair line, along the jaw, trailing down to the edges in that creeping suggestion that strikes true and deep, a knife barbed in viscera and just as undeniable, just as painful to look upon. The thought strikes, yes - cold blooded. He is nothing, if he is not cold. The callousness is there in every stride, every arrogant smirk of his lips - a heart that knows death, and hands that sow its poisoned seeds...Like mourning tears, the cracks of cold to rival death's caress claw their way out from his wintery eyes, burrowed their trails along the flesh near them.
His laugh was bitter as winter, his smile was rare, beautiful in the way of broken glass and shattered bodies. To linger too long under his gaze was to feel the chill cutting down to bone, past the marrow, to places that nobody should be able to touch and to freeze to the point of shaking, to shattering. He could have been a winter king, but he was not. Death has no need for a bride, when the feast of darkness is naught but ashes, and its drink sorrow enough to drown in.