Belly up to the bar, grab your favorite drink and listen to stories about the universe we play in. Be ready for some trash talkin' too, because we know what alcohol can do... This is the ROLE PLAY forum, tell your war stories, brag about your kills and victories, and lament about your defeats. Everyone is welcome but you must register first to post.
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I was born the day I died. Well. Whatever I am now came into being the day the man I was met his maker. I stood by and watched the paramedics try to save me. I watched the undertaker do his stuff. I watched my own funeral, watched them plant me six feet deep. And then I tried to get on with my life as a ghost. Only I'm not a ghost. Not really.
Professor Markus Strath, a friend of a friend, was kind enough to run some tests. Turns out that while I'm not flesh and blood, I'm close enough to fool most people. Professor Strath says I'm energy, manifested physically, by force of will. He says I am - or was - a mutant, and this was my power: the ability to project my consciousness into pretty much any physical form I could dream up. He says that's what I did when that Hellion gunned me down: I projected my consciousness into this imaginary body, only now there's no 'real' body for me to go back to, so I'm stuck.
So there you go. I'm the Astral Man. And I'm a figment of my own imagination. I guess, maybe, there are worse fates. After all, who among us is not, in some way, a figment of his or her own imagination?
"Shoo! Shoo! Go away! Oh God, he's got a monkey." -- Ms Purple