Famous Owens

Famous Owens
Basic Information
Team	Hades Tigers
Status	Alive
Batting	★★½
Pitching	★★★
Defense	★★½
Running	(bugged)
Personal Information
Item	None
Armor	None
Evolution	Base
Pregame Ritual	Floating
Coffee Style	Decaf
Blood Type	Love
Fate	71
Soulscream	IOEAAIOEAAIOHAIIOHAIIOUUAIOUUAIOUIOAAEIOAAEIIEAXHIEAXHIXAIIHXAIIHXIUAIAIUAIAI
Biographical Details
Pronouns	They/Them
Species	Unknown
Other Background Information
Dislikes	Tillman Henderson

Famous Owens is a player for the Hades Tigers. Owens has been with the team since the start of Season 1.

Official League Records

Owens currently has no notable events in the official recordbooks.

Interdimensional Rumor Mill

If you would like to edit this entry, click IF-27.614, or if you would like to see a list of all lore for this character, click index. This page only serves as a test concept for randomized entries, and a guide will be written once it's ready for the public.

Famous Owens is style and charm. Famous Owens is audacious enough to swan into a VIP party without an invitation and suave enough to convince everyone they were on the guest list the entire time. Perhaps they were. Famous Owens is mysterious and alluring, a promise of intrigue and drama, a story waiting to be told. Famous Owens will dazzle you with a smile, infuriate you with supreme confidence, and then, with a wink and a smile, be gone in an instant.

Famous Owens is dangerous and not to be trusted.

Amidst the Tigers, Owens has long held a rivalry with Hiroto Wilcox, stemming from their first days as teammates and intensifying in Wilcox's captaincy. Owens appears to relish in frustrating Wilcox. Wilcox in turn takes satisfaction of bringing Owens down to earth with a crash. Sometimes literally. She might be the only one who can.

Little information can be found on Owens's origins and there is no record of any pre-ILB blaseball career. What scant snippets that have been retrieved have left more questions than answers, the type of questions one hesitates to ask, faced with the gleam in Owens's eye, the casual caress of a frozen face in the lining of their coat.

Their coat. Woven of deceit and triumph, of bargains and contracts, of sorrow and desperation and joy and gratitude. Stolen faces? No no, darling, I am certainly no manner of thief. Perhaps, casting your gaze across those visages, screaming, angry, fearful, laughing, you may content yourself with such a reply.

Owens is, perhaps, a demon, or a spirit, or an ambitious denizen of Hades who has cut the right deals and stabbed the right backs to attain great prestige in the Underworld... or at least did, once upon a time. The air of lost glory and tarnished stardom clings to them, draping their shoulders with faint recognition. They were someone, once, you're sure of it. But... who? To which stage did they stake their claim? Which posters bear their name and face? In which cities were they lauded?

You cannot recall.