Athol

Last Chance ( A Star Wars Rebel Cell RP)

@Lord Shaxx Oh this could be fun. I was thinking of playing a Pantoran ex-Sector Ranger (went off the books at war's end after the new Empire's claims about the Jedi didn't mesh with they're own experiences with the Order)

Last Chance ( A Star Wars Rebel Cell RP)

Colour me interested.

Crucible (Post Apocalyptic Scavengers RP)

Ash

Ashton

[+]

---

Name:
Ashton Jefferson Gray

Appearance:
Born several years before Emergence, Ashton is a living reminder of the old phrase ‘Be wary of an old man in a job where they die young’. He’s been a Ripper his whole life and it shows. Not a tall man, he’s best described as ‘solid’. A thick, heavy set frame, well muscled by years of hauling scrap and covered in a multitude of scars from accidents, fights and radiation. In Camp he sticks to a worn and many times repaired set of coveralls that are almost as old as he is. His current Ripper gear is actually an ex-CC industrial suit that he’s added a vest/harness and leg pouches to for greater utility; in addition to all that and several repair patches, he’s done a few ‘cosmetic’ alterations to hide the suits origin.

Aside from the many scars, he has a variety of tattoos; the most notable ones being ‘Good’ and ‘Haul’ across his knuckles and a set of scales over his heart.

Gender:
Male

Nationality:
If you had to ‘label’ him for his place of birth, he’d be UNISCI, but if you ask Ashton…and press him for an answer…he’d just call himself a Ripper. He may have been born in a UNISCI vault, but he’s lived and worked in the Ripper Camp of NNYC his entire life.

Role:
Heavy Crew

Personality:
‘Reserved’ would probably be the best way to describe Ashton as he’s not given to going out of his way to make friends. Mind you he’s no bitter anti-social asshole, he’s just never felt overly inclined to get to know people; what’s the point in getting too close to folk that may very well be dead in a week…or sooner.

On the other hand he does have his principles; his biggest one being ‘Always Back Your Crew’. Whether out Ripping, or back in the Camp, you watch each other's back regardless of anything else…and if someone betrays that trust you deal with that right off.

Resume:
Born quite literally the day before ‘Emergence Day’, Ashton grew up into rough and (even more) chaotic early days of the Ripper Camps. While his father, William, became one of the first generation Rippers, his mother, Clara, cared for him and set up with a few others tending to the care and mending of the gear of those trying to rip a living out of the decaying ruins of the old world; from the moment he was old enough to actually take and follow instructions he helped with the work.

As he got older, he went from mending clothes to helping sort the scrap his father’s crew hauled back from the ruins and by the time he was a young teen he ‘graduated’ to being a Ripper himself…though sadly by then his father was gone due to radiation poisoning. Still he carried on, day after day to provide for himself and his mother.

When he was about twenty or so, his mother took up with a man named Victor. At first Ashton wasn’t a big fan of him, but in time he grew to appreciate Victor and the fact that he made his mother happy again. Not long after, his mother gave birth to his half-sister Sandra and the four of them were as happy as one could be in that hard life. Ashton worked on as a Ripper, tearing scrap from the ruins, while Clara, Victor, (and once she was old enough) Sandra tending to his and others Ripper gear.

Now his mother has passed and Victor is sadly a shell of who he once was. A few hard lessons and narrow escapes means Sandra is about the only person he truly trusts. Though he doesn’t see a future for himself, beyond ending up like his own father, he keeps pressing on to help Sandra keep her business afloat and to care for Victor.

Contacts:

• ’Missy’ Bellwether - Owner/operator of the ‘Last Gasp’ a popular Ripper bar not far from the main gate and money lender for the local Syndicate. The Last Gasp is Ash’s preferred drinking establishment and sometimes employer as Missy occasionally hires him as a bouncer and/or debt collector.
• Randolph Checkers - Weapons dealer. Works out of a back room in the ‘Last Gasp’. Charges a fair price and only deals in decent gear; rumored to have USCOM connections, but Ashton knows better than to poke about in business that isn’t his.
• Sandy Wilson - His half-sister. She runs a flophouse not far from the ‘Last Gasp’, keeps a bunk open for Ashton as often as she can.
• Victor Wilson - Sandra’s father. A fairly decent man once, but sadly his mind has gone and these days just sits and stares out a window at Sandra’s flop house.

Quirks:

• {In It For The Long Haul} - As a lifelong Ripper, Ashton has a good eye for not only what the most valuable things are (obvious and otherwise), but also the subtle signs of what may be a trap (intentional or otherwise).
• {Built Like A Brick} - Almost as broad as he is tall, he is remarkably strong; useful for not only hauling scrap, but dealing with the more active threats both outside and inside the Camp.

Heels:

• {Back In My Day} - Being a Ripper ages even the young rather quickly…and he’s not a young man any more. He hurts more constantly, he’s not as fast and so on and so forth …
• {How Do You Turn This Thing On?} - He knows enough about the old tech to (mostly) salvage it safely, but dealing with the occasional systems that one finds that are still running? Yeah, he never got the hang of that.

Crucible (Post Apocalyptic Scavengers RP)

Ash

Ashton

[+]

---

Name:
Ashton Jefferson Gray

Appearance:
Born several years before Emergence, Ashton is a living reminder of the old phrase ‘Be wary of an old man in a job where they die young’. He’s been a Ripper his whole life and it shows. Not a tall man, he’s best described as ‘solid’. A thick, heavy set frame, well muscled by years of hauling scrap and covered in a multitude of scars from accidents, fights and radiation. In Camp he sticks to a worn and many times repaired set of coveralls that are almost as old as he is. His current Ripper gear is actually an ex-CC industrial suit that he’s added a vest/harness and leg pouches to for greater utility; in addition to all that and several repair patches, he’s done a few ‘cosmetic’ alterations to hide the suits origin.

Aside from the many scars, he has a variety of tattoos; the most notable ones being ‘Good’ and ‘Haul’ across his knuckles and a set of scales over his heart.

Gender:
Male

Nationality:
If you had to ‘label’ him for his place of birth, he’d be UNISCI, but if you ask Ashton…and press him for an answer…he’d just call himself a Ripper. He may have been born in a UNISCI vault, but he’s lived and worked in the Ripper Camp of NNYC his entire life.

Role:
Heavy Crew

Personality:
‘Reserved’ would probably be the best way to describe Ashton as he’s not given to going out of his way to make friends. Mind you he’s no bitter anti-social asshole, he’s just never felt overly inclined to get to know people; what’s the point in getting too close to folk that may very well be dead in a week…or sooner.

On the other hand he does have his principles; his biggest one being ‘Always Back Your Crew’. Whether out Ripping, or back in the Camp, you watch each other's back regardless of anything else…and if someone betrays that trust you deal with that right off.

Resume:
Born quite literally the day before ‘Emergence Day’, Ashton grew up into rough and (even more) chaotic early days of the Ripper Camps. While his father, William, became one of the first generation Rippers, his mother, Clara, cared for him and set up with a few others tending to the care and mending of the gear of those trying to rip a living out of the decaying ruins of the old world; from the moment he was old enough to actually take and follow instructions he helped with the work.

As he got older, he went from mending clothes to helping sort the scrap his father’s crew hauled back from the ruins and by the time he was a young teen he ‘graduated’ to being a Ripper himself…though sadly by then his father was gone due to radiation poisoning. Still he carried on, day after day to provide for himself and his mother.

When he was about twenty or so, his mother took up with a man named Victor. At first Ashton wasn’t a big fan of him, but in time he grew to appreciate Victor and the fact that he made his mother happy again. Not long after, his mother gave birth to his half-sister Sandra and the four of them were as happy as one could be in that hard life. Ashton worked on as a Ripper, tearing scrap from the ruins, while Clara, Victor, (and once she was old enough) Sandra tending to his and others Ripper gear.

Now his mother has passed and Victor is sadly a shell of who he once was. A few hard lessons and narrow escapes means Sandra is about the only person he truly trusts. Though he doesn’t see a future for himself, beyond ending up like his own father, he keeps pressing on to help Sandra keep her business afloat and to care for Victor.

Contacts:

• ’Missy’ Bellwether - Owner/operator of the ‘Last Gasp’ a popular Ripper bar not far from the main gate and money lender for the local Syndicate. The Last Gasp is Ash’s preferred drinking establishment and sometimes employer as Missy occasionally hires him as a bouncer and/or debt collector.
• Randolph Checkers - Weapons dealer. Works out of a back room in the ‘Last Gasp’. Charges a fair price and only deals in decent gear; rumored to have USCOM connections, but Ashton knows better than to poke about in business that isn’t his.
• Sandy Wilson - His half-sister. She runs a flophouse not far from the ‘Last Gasp’, keeps a bunk open for Ashton as often as she can.
• Victor Wilson - Sandra’s father. A fairly decent man once, but sadly his mind has gone and these days just sits and stares out a window at Sandra’s flop house.

Quirks:

• {In It For The Long Haul} - As a lifelong Ripper, Ashton has a good eye for not only what the most valuable things are (obvious and otherwise), but also the subtle signs of what may be a trap (intentional or otherwise).
• {Built Like A Brick} - Almost as broad as he is tall, he is remarkably strong; useful for not only hauling scrap, but dealing with the more active threats both outside and inside the Camp.

Heels:

• {Back In My Day} - Being a Ripper ages even the young rather quickly…and he’s not a young man any more. He hurts more constantly, he’s not as fast and so on and so forth …
• {How Do You Turn This Thing On?} - He knows enough about the old tech to (mostly) salvage it safely, but dealing with the occasional systems that one finds that are still running? Yeah, he never got the hang of that.

Crucible (Post Apocalyptic Scavengers RP)

-Null-

Crucible (Post Apocalyptic Scavengers RP)

@Paradoxial Just out of curiosity, when you say 'handmade' guns, are we talking like a good Khyber Pass (Can look fairly professional, safety/reliability varies by maker) or bad Khyber Pass (It's collection of vaguely gun-like scrap; it might work, it might not or it might blow off you hand...how lucky do you feel?)

Crucible (Post Apocalyptic Scavengers RP)

Just booted up a game of METRO today, so feeling the post-apoc vibes!

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion [Closed]

Darmon

Between the aches of his beating, the noise of the now rather crowded cell, and the ramblings of a few of his new ‘associates’ who seemed to have questionable touch with reality, Darmon found it had to follow the conversations. A few close by tried to talk, but he just shook his head and gave an apologetic shrug.

He pulled himself a little tighter as he looked about once more; this many folks so tightly packed was a recipe for disaster, and he could feel an underlying tension in the air. Clasping his hands together, he began to fiddle with the rings on his fingers, something he’d done ever since he was a child whenever he was nervous.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion [Closed]

Darmon

Darmon was not a large man, and in the current cramped confines of the cell he’d been unceremoniously stuffed into, that was a bit of a blessing. Sitting against a wall, with his head back and eyes closed he sighed. Things had been going so well. He thought, his mind wandering to the days prior. He’d made the trip all the way to the heart of the Empire to meet some old friends of the family and strike up some deals. To that end he’d been very successful, negotiating several deals for goods and luxuries from the Imperial City in exchange for raw resources and a few ‘exotics’ from Sentinel.

On top of that he’d found a lovely young woman who’d been fascinated by his stories of travel across Tamriel, and his many adventures and misadventures along the way…and the fact that her new husband had turned out to be as ‘lively’ and imaginative as a week old fish in matters that truely counted. So his days had been spent wheeling and dealing, listening to the wonderful sound of the clink of coin, and his evenings relaxing, telling stories and helping his new friend see what a man truly worth her time could do for (and to) her.

Then it all went to shit, at least on the personal side of things. That damned fight hadn’t gone the way folks had hoped and he’d found himself, admittedly not for the first time, running from the consequences of his actions; his hope was that while he was pursued, she was able to make a clean break. Fortunately, though the jilted husband and his father had caught him, they only managed a few good kicks before the Watch broke up the bar brawl. From the way he ached, Darmon was sure he had a couple of cracked ribs, but nothing a mouthful of a healing potions wouldn’t fix.

Not far off a rather battered looking Breton kid asked about cards or dice, and commented that they’d likely be here until morning. ”Sorry, no.” He replied. ”Though hearing you say that, I’m kicking myself for not thinking to stash some in my robes-” Any further comments stopped as nervous shouting from the guards echoed through the cell block. From his position he couldn’t see what caused the commotion, though he could guess the cause as the door opened and giant Kahjit was ‘guided’ inside. Raising a hand in greeting he also nodded to the giant orange furball. ”Darmon.”

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion [Closed]

Darmon

---

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Name: Darmon Saishir
Age: 36
Race: Redguard
Appearance: Not a large man by any measure, Darmon stands only about 5’5” and is quite lightly built; Though not a warrior by any means, his life being nearly perpetually ‘on the road’ as it were has kept him quite fit…despite his preference for richer food and drink. Like some redguard, his eyes are dark brown to the point of almost looking black though according to various women, at times they glow a deep rich brown, filled with warmth and charm. For practical reasons he keeps his head shaved, though he forgoes any facial hair because as to quote his own mother ‘It looks like you’ve got a half-drowned skeever pelt on your face.’

Like many of his people, he favours the flowing hoods and robe styles native to his home land; though not overly flashy compared to some of his peers, obvious wealth ‘on the road’ draws bandits like honey draws flies; his only concession is a collection of rings on his fingers. While some are valuable, most are simply one’s he’s found interesting.

Personality:
A friendly and outgoing fellow, as any successful merchant should be; he's a man who tries to take work seriously but life, not so much. Growing up a ‘Merchant Prince’ of Sentinel, but spending plenty of time down on the docks, he’s as comfortable drinking in rough taverns with the average folk as he is trading polite nothings with ‘high society’ (though he prefers somewhat more of a middle ground; rough enough to have an actual fun time, but classy enough that people bathe regularly.)

His charming and outgoing nature, and good looks also has a tendency to make him rather popular with many of the women that he crosses paths with..and very unpopular with quite a few of their husbands/fathers/fiancees etc; he’s also fond of ‘justifying’ his actions by saying ”If the man was better at his duties as a partner, the lady wouldn’t have found me nearly as interesting.”

This philosophy has gotten him run out of numerous towns and establishments over the years.

---

Abilities

Swordsmanship - While he’d be the first to admit he’s no Arena Champion or Companion when it comes to swordplay, Darmon is certainly skilled enough to defend himself from the usual lowlifes, cutthroats or irate spouses he sometimes encounters.

Archery (Crossbow) - Like his swordsmanship, it’s not anything special, but he’s a good enough shot to both defend himself and keep fed between towns.

Hand-to-hand - Not every altercation can, or should, be fought with a live blade. So to keep his face un-broken and his neck off of a headsman's block, he’s a fair hand at fighting with his hands…though he generally does his best to leave if he can.

Merchant Prince - His actual job is all about the deal, finding what folks want, what they might have that you want and then talking and bargaining until both parties reach a happy agreement; it seems simple, but like most things that seem simply, they often rarely are…but the challenge of it is something Darmon enjoys.

Sleight of hand - He was taught by an ex-Thieves Guild man he knew in Sentinel as a boy, and over the years he’s learned a few new tricks in his travels. Though largely used as an ‘ice breaker’ in social moments, what he knows has saved his skin on a few occasions.

Alchemist - Another thing learned for its practicality for someone travelling the length and breadth of Tamriel. Though he only knows a handful of recipes by heart, he knows them quite well, though some more than others.

Known Potions

Potion of Cure Disease
Potion of Strength
Potion of Healing
Potion of Stamina
Potion of Escape

Magic: None

Equipment

Personal Items

• Typical clothing for a man from Hammerfell
• Saishir Family signet ring
• Various other rings

The Lock Box

• Steel dagger
• Coin Purse

Stored Items

• Legion surplus crossbow
• Bolt quiver (12)
• Scimitar
• Trading Catalogue
• Travel Bag

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Background

Born the second son and third child of the head of the Saishir Trading Company, Sentinel’s third largest trading firm, he was born into the sort of wealth that most only find amongst Tamriel's nobility. That said, unlike too many of said nobility, his father wasn’t one to let his children become spoilt, idle layabouts that leeched off of the hard work of the folks that worked for Saishir Trading.

To his father’s credit, he also did his best to mould his children into jobs that most suited them. In Darmon’s case, his ‘itchy feet’ as his mother would put it and an easy and charming personality made him best suited to be one of the company’s point men, travelling Tamriel, searching out new products to bring to Hammerfell, buyers for goods coming the other way, making friends and contacts, in both high and low places.

By fourteen Darmon was travelling with his brother on the Sentinel to Anvil run, making friends, opening talks with other trading companies, and by sixteen he was setting off inland, eventually making his way as far as the edges of Morrowind and Black Marsh. At twenty his tiring, but freewheeling, life hit a bit of a hiccup as it was decided that he should be married to cement ties between his family and one of the noble houses of Sentinel. While a drag, he knew the young woman he was to marry and had always considered her a friend.

Though everything else proceeded as planned, all was not without issue. After some awkward confessions on the wedding night, Darmon and his wife Chan came to a few agreements and settled into ‘married’ life, with a lovely woman named Kiarsa as their servant and nanny once their son Limdon was born. While he spends much of his time on the road, both for his job and just because he enjoys the travel, he does his best to return home regularly to keep up with his family.

Currently he’s been in the Imperial City for a few days, overseeing some trade negotiations between Saishir Trading and the Imperial Trading Company. With his dealings having gone well, he decided to spend some time with a lovely lady while most of the city was off at the Arena for the big bout; sadly their plans fell apart rather quickly after the bout was cancelled suddenly and the lady’s father returned home sooner than expected, drunk, angry and with her equally drunk and unhappy fiancee in tow…though Darmon would swear to the Divines that he didn’t know the lady in question was already betrothed.

The two men were in no mood to debate such semantics, so he found himself dropping off a second story balcony and running, most likely for his life. Knowing he couldn’t run forever, he made the fateful decision to try and hide from his pursuers in a local place called ‘Daggerfall Dan’s’. Rushing through the door, he had just enough time to see a breton kid go crashing into a table of off-duty guardsmen…before several hundred pounds of angry, who’d been closer than he realised, hit him from behind.

Ambition

As it stands? He’d like to wrap up his dealings in the Imperial City, he’d had a couple of meetings planned for the day after the big match in the Arena, and then begin making his way back to Sentinel, partially update his mother on things and partially to see his boy.