I'm Not Proud
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
| |
| Inp and a few of his followers. | |
| I'm Not Proud | |
| Player: Meaning of Liff | |
| Origin: | Natural |
|---|---|
| Archetype: | Controller |
| Security Level: | Under Development |
| Personal Data | |
| Real Name: | Fire Imp |
| Known Aliases: | Fire Inp, Inp, I.N.P., It's No Problem, Ivan No Please, I Need Painkillers, Imp No. 4,673,372 |
| Species: | Fire Imp |
| Age: | Timeless |
| Height: | 36" |
| Weight: | 25 lbs |
| Eye Color: | Orange |
| Hair Color: | Singed |
| Biographical Data | |
| Nationality: | Hell |
| Occupation: | Making Hell more entertaining |
| Place of Birth: | Styx |
| Base of Operations: | Hell |
| Marital Status: | Hell no |
| Known Relatives: | Imp No. 4,645,984, Imp No. 3,354,975, Imp No. 3,541,868 |
| Known Powers | |
| Burning Things | |
| Known Abilities | |
| Unintentional Charisma, Looks Cute on Fire | |
| Equipment | |
| Infinite Sugar | |
| Loves Sugar. Carries a hole to a dimension that is entirely sugar. Uses the sugar to make people feel better and move fast. | |
Contents |
Biography
The Bureaucracy
On a particularly mundane Tuesday in a fiery demon pit somewhere deep beneath the Earth’s surface, a clerical Behemoth was hard at work logging the names of the new fire imps. “4,672,368… Fire Imp,” he muttered to himself as he typed, “4,672,369… Fire Imp. 4,672,370… Fire Imp…. Why doesn’t this system have a copy/paste feature?” The neighboring clerical Behemoth replied, “This is Hell remember?” to which the first Behemoth simply sighed, popped a few Advil, and returned to his data-entry.
“4,673,371… Fire Imp. 4,673,372… Fire Imp. Aw damn it.” The first Behemoth pounded his fists on the desk, prompting the second Behemoth to look up questioningly. “I accidentally typed Fire Inp.” The Behemoth hit the backspace key but it didn’t work. This grated on the Behemoths already weary nerves. The Behemoth tried the arrow keys, but those also didn’t work. “FUCK!” the Behemoth cried, grabbing the mouse and bursting into flames. Unfortunately, the mouse melted, further enraging the Behemoth who promptly incinerated the computer.
The Following
With the workstation destroyed, Hell’s central mainframe quickly saved all the documents on which our clerical Behemoth had been working, saving the name of Imp No. 4,673,372 as “Fire Inp.” The bureaucracy in Hell is so complete that nobody doubted for a minute that Fire Inp was actually this particular imp’s name. The other imps quickly became interested in this imp, and determined that there must, in fact, be something incredibly special about this imp.
Thusly, Inp was forced into the limelight, becoming a public figure against his will. Inp was dragged to the Nascar Styx 500 and was made to ride alongside Dale Earnhart as he relived his fatal crash unendingly for all eternity. Inp was shown the chamber in which Gandhi was forced to flog peasants untiringly. Inp was made to give public speeches at openings of financially doomed hockey rinks. It was during one of these speeches that Inp received his first of many names.
The Naming
See, one particular diehard sect of Inp’s followers believed that I.N.P. was no coincidence, and must be some message. Thus they started listening to everything Inp had to say, waiting for a combination of words that began with the letters I, N, and P, respectively.
Inp’s third hockey rink speech started thusly, “…no wait I don’t want to do this! Aw shit. People… Imps! Why are you doing this? I’m just an Imp.” To this the crowd arrupted in wild applause. “My name is Fire Imp. There was some mix-up at immigration and they typed my name with a N instead of a M.” The imps in the audience again cheered wildly and idiotically. “It’s just a typo. Why are you worshipping me? I’m not proud of this name.” At the back of the crowd a chorus of gasps echoed, followed by a slowly building chant, “I. N. P.!… I’m not proud!... I.N.P.!... I’m not proud!”
The Therapy
Inp had trouble dealing with all the unwanted fame and started seeing a psychiatric Nerva Spectral Demon, who suggested that he accept who he had become, and start to enjoy it. It took Inp a while, but he eventually accepted his celebrity status and started traveling around with a small posse of imps to do his bidding.
The Sects
Development
Well, the years went by and eventually new sects developed based around different I.N.P. strings of words that Inp happened to say. The largest of which were It’s No Problem, Ivan No Please, and I Need Painkillers. These sects developed disagreements about the teachings of Inp; one sect believed that humility was key, one sect believed that deeds should be done without accepting thanks or reward, one sect believed that all people named Ivan are inherently evil, and one sect believed that drugs are the answer.
Dissolution
Well, the Ivan No Please sect went on a tirade on the surface, but were no match for the pyromaniacal skills of Ivan Ventura (a.k.a. Roy Ivanov), and were efficiently squelched. The It’s No Problem sect quickly spent all their resources and, failing to replenish the coffers, was evicted from their headquarters and disbanded. The I Need Painkillers is still “active” but they are all so stoned that they just lay around on the couch all day. Hence, the strongest remaining sect is I’m Not Proud, which still follows Inp around to this day.
The Tirade
Inp, having grown nicely into his egomaniacal humility, tired of Hell, and began roaming about on the surface, seeing what new and interesting characters he could send home to begin their eternal damnation. True, Inp’s methods are a bit odd, what with the summoning hordes upon hordes of his followers to die in his name, and the whole fighting on the side of good thing… But he needs people he can send to Hell to keep him entertained, and so he must kill villains, hence the heroic topside reputation.
Likes
Sugar
As an imp, Inp loves sugar. In fact, Inp loves sugar so much that he had a Madness Mage craft a portable portal that he carries with him that leads to a dimension that is entirely sugar. This sugar Inp has been known to use quite frequently, in which case he starts to move very fast, or to give cubes to others that ask nicely in order that they might have simlarly hightened speed, or just feel better. Inp sees no reason to hoard the sugar as he has an infinite supply of it. Inp has however been known to pull the sugar directly from the bodies of his opponents, making them move slower, or nourishing Inp's allies around them.
Entertainment
As an Imp, Inp has a staggeringly short attention span. He loves to be in motion, and has been known to charge head first into groups simply to be entertained by their efforts to quench his undying flame. As mentioned above, Inp is on a quest to make Hell more entertaining, by packing it with all the evildoers he can find, do be tortured at his convenience.
Burning Things
Inp loves to watch things burn, and will set stuff on fire if it is the least bit flamable, just to watch the flames lick ever higher. Hence, Inp loves to hang around people who drop oil slicks. When it comes to fire, the bigger the better.
Dislikes
Bureaucracy
Because nobody has yet caught on that Inp is actually just a Fire Imp, Inp has been judged by his actions. Unfortunately, Inps actions on the surface is mostly just burning villains and handing out sugar. These actions, contrary to the opinions of the American Dental Association, have caused Inp to be classified as a Hero, and hence he has been banished from the Rogue Isles by his daemon brethren and is forced to spend all his time in Paragon City... which has a much more efficient Fire Department than the Rogue Isles.
Fire Extinguishers
Inp has a distinct dislike of fire extinguishers. He has been quoted as saying, "I'm serious dude. Put that thing down. No don't!... damn that's cold. I'm not cleaning this up. Go get the vacuum. Seriously. Go get the vacuum or I will light your face on fire. Followed by other vital parts of your anatomy."
Sweet 'n Low
It's not sugar. It's not even anything like sugar. It tastes horrible. If there is Sweet 'n Low at his table he will throw it across the room. After setting it on fire. He will throw flaming packets of Sweet 'n Low across the room if you put it on his table. Seriously. Put that shit away.
