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Rupert

Page history last edited by PBworks 16 years, 9 months ago

Rupert

 

Rupert's actual name is not known. Some of his fellow novas in the Bleed Ordeal knew of aliases he'd used in the past, but he has never actually provided a name that he would like to be called. Lucas Cortez  simply chose the name "Rupert" randomly for him and it stuck.

 

Rupert began the Bleed Ordeal as a thin, middle-aged man-- about 5'10" with salt and pepper hair. He wore dark suits and a thin mustache and goatee. He worked for the FBI gathering intelligence before being enlisted into the Bleed Mission. Beyond that, little is known.

 

During the years of the Bleed Ordeal, time and war took their toll on Rupert. His suits were replaced by hooded robes, which help hide his now scarred face and hands. He uses a stick to walk and tries to avoid running when possible. His hair has thinned and gone completely white, matched by a full beard.

 

His personality on the other hand, has remained fairly constant: an excellent listener, but a guarded speaker; cordial, but never warm; principled, but not compassionate. When the Novas split into squads, Rupert became fiercely loyal to Black Squad. In this group, he did develop close bonds and share more of himself. He was also never shy about sharing his low opinion of Green Squad, particularly Matthew Hopper.

 

 

Nova Powers & Abilities:

Over the 16 years of the Bleed Ordeal, the following Nova powers became apparent:

 

     

  • Telepathy
  • Able to Dominate the will of others
  • Mental Blasts

  • Posseses tremendous personal Willpower
  • Able to sense impending danger
  • Mega Perception
  • Mega Intelligence
  • Mega Manipulation - in recent years, Rupert has been able to compel brief obedience through vocal commands
  • Came into possession of a strangely powerful short sword, which has made Rupert a much more formidable opponent in physical struggles

 

 Played by: Tim

 

Appeared in:

 

 

 

The War Journals of Rupert:

 

Excerpts from "Lest my Mind Wander: the Collected Journals of a Survivor of the Unknown" by Kyle Brennon

 

From the Preface:

"The process of decyphering the journals of "Rupert" during the years of the Bleed Ordeal has been an immensely challenging and gratifying one. What began as a straight-forward decryption of a clever (although not particularly strenuous) code became quite daunting after, at some point during the fourth year, Rupert suffered severe scarring to his face and hands. After this, apparently quite consciously, Rupert began a second journal with an entirely different persona. It in fact begins with the phrase "Father Joseph says Rupert's scars might not heal."

 

I believe this second persona is not an indication of any kind of split personality disorder, but rather a conscious effort to organize the vast amounts of subtlely nuanced thoughts and emotions possessed by such a unique individual. Before the second journal appeared, Rupert often mentioned how ill at ease he felt having been "trapped" in a single identity for so long. Before this mission, we are to gather, he would have an identity for a limited amount of time and then discard it. After 10 months on Warworld, he wrote"My greater self is being starved as Rupert grows larger. I like being Rupert, but I fear, eventually the day will come that I will no longer have a mask to remove." While the acid attack he suffered does conform to the sort of traumatic event that might create a split personality, in many other ways his behavior was radically atypical for such a condition. Notably neither persona seems cut off from the thoughts and experiences of the other. (Although perhaps, as a Telepath, Rupert was in the habit of knowing what other people or other selves were thinking.) The two journals were not encoded seprerately, the second journal's cypher was dependent on the content of Rupert's journal of the same day (incorporating the number of words used and the last letter of the first word among other things-- see Appendix A "Cracking the Codes"). More singnificant however, there was never any sort of struggle for dominance between personas. If anything, Rupert was the man and the second journal was the job, or the role. The second journal only identified itself as a "man with my responsibilities" or "the role I must fulfill" or "my task."

 

Near the end of his ordeal, during the fourteenth year in the Bleed, the second journal begins mentioning a possible third persona, "S has been feeling old and depressed lately. It's a phase." These references are rare and no journal seems to exist for "S," although the theory has been put forward that the two codes for the other two journals can, in some manner, be combined to read a third "meta-journal." While I would not rule it out entirely, having spent two years of my life pouring over the collected material, I find it unlikely. It could be a new identity, forgerd to help cope with the relentless death and horror Rupert had experienced, or possibly a product of Rupert's prolonged dealings with the "Chaos" creatures, or a result of the impromptu "radiology" used to treat his brain tumor. It may also represent his actual identity."

 

From "Year 1"

"3 months & 17 days since arrival in Warworld

I should be examining the humans, I should be trying to explore Darkling minds. Why in the name of God am I always on Cyborg patrol? If it doesn't have a brain, there's not much I can do with it. Hopper insists that it is vital I help the other Novae track down the technology, which is essentially saying that I can best be used as bait, because that's the only way I can predict what they're going to do! Hawthorne was optimistic about the tech we're scavenging and says we might be home in as little as another three months. I bet him we'd be here more than a year.

 

The more real and solid Bastion becomes the more life it sucks out of us. Yes, we all enjoy shitting in actual toilets again. We enjoy cafes, bars, and honest-to-god beds again. But everone wants their room to be a hotel-- luxurious and impermanent. No one wants it to be there home. The way the humans here look at us-- like we could possibly fix this. It sucks the life out of me. It's like a giant church dedicated to a lack of faith. We're stuck here and we better be ready for it. There is no God, there is no hope, there is no escape. Sorry Father Joseph. Sorry Hawthorn. Fuck off Hopper."

 

From "Year 2"

"1 year, 4 months, & 19 days since arrival on Warworld

Last night I saw it. I've heard people talk about it, I've seen it in people's minds, but it's no substitute for first-hand experience. I saw 'the thing that should have killed me.' Darklings popped up while Rebecca had me on another damned errand (she's doing phermone testing on Hellhounds, naturally I'm the person to ask!). I knew they were there and I knew perfectly well what was happening. It didn't help. A girder thrown from two blocks away got right up to me. I could feel the air it was pushing. I could smell it. The world blurred briefly as Hawthorne nearly tore me in half getting me out of the way. I was trying to think of the physics of how someone could be that fast, and I can't get my head around it. I'm definitely rattled. I'm taking a few days off to try to snap out of it. I'm tempted to ask people to change what they call me, although I'm loathe to choose something myself."

 

From "Year 3"

"2 years, 10 months, & 8 days since arrival on Warworld

Another success! Twice now I have had what I believe to be meaningful interactions with the so-called 'Chaos Creatures.' Although the entity was certainly ready to disappear at a moment's notice, it did let me approach. Gradually, it changed it's shape to mimic my own. I definitely feel that it was interested in me and wanted to try to communicate, but ultimatley it's instincts took over and it fled. I find the Creatures so intriguing. I think perhaps our ultimate escape may lie within coming to an understanding of these fascinating beings."

 

Rupert From "Year 4"

"3 year, 9 months, & 24 days since arrival on Warworld

Finally able to write again. Two weeks ago I was helping sort through Cyborg debris when one of them spontaneously came back on line. I reacted quickly enough to block my face. Instantly my hands, the left side of my jaw, and the left part of my neck felt like they were on fire. The damned thing sprayed me with acid. Lucas put it out of my misery. The pain has been unreal. I've had a lot of cheery "get well soon" exchanges with my fellow Novae, but I am increasingly aware that my fragility makes them feel less like gods. No one says anything to that effect, of course-- that would be rude. But sympathy does not come easily to people like us, I suppose. Except Rebecca, who's constant mothering is the proverbial icing on the cake of acid burns."

 

Second Persona From "Year 4"

"3 year, 9 months, & 24 days since arrival on Warworld

Father Joseph says Rupert's scars might not heal. Will he now become an object of pity when he spends his evenings consoling himself with Boris and his assorted Bar denizens? I can see he has been afraid. He has been tempted to cling to those illusory staples of a stable life: the familiar, the friendly, the loving. But such things, even on his home planet, are only tissue paper in a hurricane. And this is Warworld. He does not truly have anything to which he can cling. He just has scars."

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