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Game of Heaven: Where Gods work at McDonald's

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Clayton Radshaw

Location: London, hotel room.
Interacting With: @shamrocknroll.

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He might not have woken up amongst soft white sheets, fluffy pillows and in the company of a gorgeous lady, but here he was now. The smug smile on his lips was nearly uncontainable. The way the sultry French whisper rolled off her tongue only made it worse. The sounds were magic enough but the words then tested and stretched his memory.

He knew je suis for 'I am', so therefore assumed appelé Cerise to be her name. Who was he to judge. Her next comment also put any doubt about her intentions to rest. She was extremely forthcoming for a stranger he just met in the alleyway, a married one at that. But then again, who was he to judge.

"un peu noir ou rouge" He says in his broken accent in attempts to humor or impress, all while he gives a sly predatory glare. His eyes followed her intently until she was out of sight. Shamelessly studying her womanly body and figure.

There was still sometime before he had to be at the airport so he decided he might as well have some fun to kill the time.
He gets up and heads over to the mini fridge and begins searching through it, occasionally wincing every time an off movement reminds him of an injury.

Game of Heaven: Where Gods work at McDonald's

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Clayton Radshaw

Location: London, some dirty old alleyway.
Interacting With: @shamrocknroll.

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Clayton chuckles which inadvertently causes him to wince in pain.
"What? Aren't married woman allowed to drink? Your not pregnant are you?"
He asks as he takes the cigarette and let's it hang loosely in between his lips. It was a rhetorical question and his tone gave away his playful teasing.
"Honestly I don't think I'm welcome back at work after last night, think I'll just avoid that awkward conversation. Your room sounds great though." he says more seriously. "I gotta be on a plane this arvo anyway and I don't think this is any state to travel in.

Shit! What's the time?"
Then there's the frantic patting as he checks all his pockets again and again. He finds a wallet but nothing else.

Slightly disappointed he shrugs it off.
"Say, your not from around here are you? What brings you to these parts?

Cute Kids Fighting Big Wars

Edited

Game of Heaven: Where Gods work at McDonald's

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Clayton Radshaw

Location: London, some dirty old alleyway.
Interacting With: @shamrocknroll.

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Clays stomach grumbled as he looked up at the lady through blinking groggy eyes. There was a small pause of silence as he just stared at her, a playful daring grin spread across his lips. With a groan he picked himself up off the floor and placed one hand on the brick wall behind him and the other heavily on her shoulder for support.
Despite the obvious impedance from either his hangover or injuries, or both, the man seemed to be enjoying himself. He didn't seem to catch the tone or intent of her words. Instead he looked to the sky as he had a small stretch. It was cut short as he stumbled for balance and came to lean heavily on and close to the lady.

Now that he was awake and leaning close against her his eyes capture hers. Deep and intense. He whispers "You have such beautiful eyes, we should get a drink sometime. Don't suppose you have a spare fag?" with those words his grin grew into a full blown teasing and charming smile. A smile that was well practised and rehearsed. A smile he was well aware of.

Game of Heaven: Where Gods work at McDonald's

Clay: Alcohol, brawls and inhibitions

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~ Details ~

Name: Clayton Radshaw
Age: 28
Birthday:17 September 1990
Nationality: Canadian
Ethnicity: Scandinavian / Unknown
Birthplace: Sudbury, Ontario, Canada
Current Residence: London
Gender: Male
Education: Highschool
Mortal Job: Bartender
Pantheon: Booze, Brawls and inhibitions.

~ Description ~

Height: 183cm / 6'0"
Weight: 95kgs / 210lbs
Build:
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blonde
Skin Tone: white/light tan
Distinguishable features: tattoos, tattoos everywhere.
Personal Style: simple and functional. Bare chest, Leather jacket, practical yet old jeans and boots. Lots of beard maintenance.

~ Psychology ~

Stubborn * Easy going * Impulsive * Friendly * Lazy

Sexuality: Hetro
Relationship status: Always somewhere between the last and the next.
Personality:Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type.
Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too.
Habits: Going to excess, procrastinating.
Hobbies: Working on motorbikes, Brewing alcohol, getting tatted.

Fears:
Commitment
Drowning
Alligators

Likes:

• Booze
• Babes
• Bikes
• Brawls
• Betting
• Kittens

Dislikes:

• Commitment
• Academics
• Rules/Laws
• Confined places
• Pineapple on pizza

bio:

Family: Alive and well, he just has little to no contact with them these days. His parents are quite young, as he was a teenage accident. An accident his true father didn't want to stick around for.
Almost for as long as he can remember he has had a step Father .A strict, controlling ex military man who is now part of the police force. They never saw eye to eye and argued or yelled often.

As a potentially prominent psychologist of her field, his Mother was a rather busy lady. His childhood was buried beneath her extensive study. Her career, her patients, always seemed to come before her own family.

Younger sister. His only sibling, 9 years younger than him they are not really close. He sends the odd msg or text but had moved away when she was only 8. Now 19 and nearly out of her teens, he makes a bit more of an effort as he feels bad for not doing so sooner. She is family and he doesn't even know her.

Theme Song:
"Made of Scars" by Stone Sour

Game of Heaven: Where Gods work at McDonald's

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Clayton Radshaw

Location: London, some dirty old alleyway.
Interacting With: Anybody.

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The bright light of a rising morning pieced the thin flesh of Clayton's eyelids. Groggily he shook his head trying to hide from the sun as the cool crisp outside air ran along his skin. Shit, he was outside...

It seemed to have gotten much brighter by the time Clay opened his eyes again, he squinted as he looked around trying to assess his location and situation. He was by no means feeling ok, but there had defiantly been occasions before were he had woken up feeling much worse.

His head was splitting with a pounding headache, he had poor recollection of the night before, the strong residual smell of whiskey hung on his breath and he had the faint taste of blood on his lips. No there was nothing unusual here.

Despite all reasonable logic and indicators he still prayed to find himself in a large soft bed with luscious white sheets and an exotic strange girl wrapped in his arms.

As his eyes adjusted to and filtered the piercing painful light he quickly looks around and lets out a deep loud long disappointed sigh, reality hit him hard and confirmed the initial thoughts he wanted to hide from. Clay lay outside amongst a rubbish heap in a dirty small back alley.
Surprisingly, even though the odds were against him, he was still both saddened and disappointed by this, as it meant there would be no breakfast or morning sex today.

With a groan he picks his battered, bruised and injured body off the floor and recollects the night before....

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Last Night
unnamed pub

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Hider

There it was, once again, that all too familiar taste of blood swelling within his mouth.

"Mother fuc" he had began to slur before another fist came violently crashing into his face. His head snapped across sending the growing pool of salivate blood splattering across the floor. There came a deep guttural growl from the back of his throat in reply. Clay slowly lifted his head back up so that this punk may see the predatory rage burning within his eyes.
"Not a smart move" a maniacal smile of perfect white teeth follow his words.

Clay who was kneeling on the back of some big up-tight tavern regular, releases the the mans head to fall to the floorboards with a heavy thud.
Only moments ago Clay had been pounding his head into the ground and now the mans face was silhouetted by a smeared pool of his own blood. Clay turned all his focus to the punk kid who blind sighted him. Ignoring the man at his feet and the other laying on the pool table clutching his leg as he grunted in agony over the half protruding broken pool que.

Had there been the only three in the tavern that day, Clay would have walked out a happy man. But NO. Not even nearly. At least sixteen people had squeezed themselves into this little corner pub to celebrate some sporting victory, and nearly all had enough comradery to get involved instead of watching a few of their team mates get the shit kicked out of them. Well at least it felt like all sixteen of them to Clay.

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Broken bruised and bloody he came crashing into a pile of rubbish as he was thrown out the back door into a dirty old alley way. "Fu'en puthies" he yells back defiantly through a broken jaw, at what must have been the teams pitcher. The coffee pot that came flying at him next was thrown hard enough to have him seeing black.
With a sputter he painfully laughs at his own misfortune before passing out.

Game of Heaven: Where Gods work at McDonald's

Character application

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~ Details ~

Name: Clayton Radshaw
Age: 28
Birthday:17 September 1990
Nationality: Canadian
Ethnicity: Scandinavian / Unknown
Birthplace: Sudbury, Ontario, Canada
Current Residence: London
Gender: Male
Education: Highschool
Mortal Job: Bartender
Pantheon: Booze, Brawls and inhibitions.

~ Description ~

Height: 183cm / 6'0"
Weight: 95kgs / 210lbs
Build:
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blonde
Skin Tone: white/light tan
Distinguishable features: tattoos, tattoos everywhere.
Personal Style: simple and functional. Bare chest, Leather jacket, practical yet old jeans and boots. Lots of beard maintenance.

~ Psychology ~

Stubborn * Easy going * Impulsive * Friendly * Lazy

Sexuality: Hetro
Relationship status: Always somewhere between the last and the next.
Personality:Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type.
Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too.
Habits: Going to excess, procrastinating.
Hobbies: Working on motorbikes, Brewing alcohol, getting tatted.

Fears:
Commitment
Drowning
Alligators

Likes:

• Booze
• Babes
• Bikes
• Brawls
• Betting
• Kittens

Dislikes:

• Commitment
• Academics
• Rules/Laws
• Confined places
• Pineapple on pizza

bio:

Family: Alive and well, he just has little to no contact with them these days. His parents are quite young, as he was a teenage accident. An accident his true father didn't want to stick around for.
Almost for as long as he can remember he has had a step Father .A strict, controlling ex military man who is now part of the police force. They never saw eye to eye and argued or yelled often.

As a potentially prominent psychologist of her field, his Mother was a rather busy lady. His childhood was buried beneath her extensive study. Her career, her patients, always seemed to come before her own family.

Younger sister. His only sibling, 9 years younger than him they are not really close. He sends the odd msg or text but had moved away when she was only 8. Now 19 and nearly out of her teens, he makes a bit more of an effort as he feels bad for not doing so sooner. She is family and he doesn't even know her.

Theme Song:
"Made of Scars" by Stone Sour

Cute Kids Fighting Big Wars

@OliveYou

I uh, I've narrowed my image down to a final three XD
Lol sorry, I'll get a move on.

:p

How long have the 'mechanics' been working with these kids?

Ecetopia: Rzail: Karnorouri’s Pillar

@Tristwich

A muffled explosion erupted nearby partially awakening Arex from his stupor. Smoke and fire had began spreading amongst the ranks of the undead. The same undead that nearly buried him. A firm hand caught him by the collar and heaved him to his knees, and it wasn't an undead. As he knelt, he came face to face with a short yet strong stumpy red haired man. He could barely make out the words flowing out of his heavily bearded mouth, partially because the ringing echoing in his skull and partially due to the thick unfamiliar accent.

As a flaming corpse fell before them on a buckled knee, words or not, their path was clear. A soft whirrr emanated from Arex's cybernetics as he stood and stretched. It was followed by a sharp sudden grinding screech and the faint blue glowing as small arcs of electricity danced across damaged and dysfunctional components.

All in all he was still functional. Some precision, detailed or complex movement had been impeded but all general motions could still be carried out. He could still run and he could still swing a fist. So by overcharging his systems with hidden reserves of energy he found a new life and spurned on alongside the dwarf as they battled their way through the undead to the destination. Throwing corpses left and right Arex was a whirlwind of rage and raw physical strength, splitting skulls and cracking backs, he violently and relentlessly pushed on through like a man possessed.

His Dwarven saviour would quickly notice and understand the signs of on setting fatigue. While Arex seemed impervious to the zombies and skeletons falling around them, his stamina could not and would not last. They had to get to safety and quick.

Maximum City: The Superhero Sandbox (City Building, Currently Accepting)

WIP, early stages.

My Hider

Appearance (civilian):

Hider

Appearance (transformation):

Hider

Hider

Name: Alex
Quote:
Alias: (Not yet confirmed)
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Occupation: Student
Abilities: Adaptive Genetic Exo Symbiont. A creature(s) of genetic marvel live within Alex's body. Their symbiotic relationship is ever growing and developing as the need arises. Wanting to keep him alive this creature temporarily mutates his physicality into an alternate form capable of handling the situation. It can stretch and grow, increase his durability, speed or strength and even form into mundane weapons and items.

Weaknesses:
Reactive based, Environmental dictation.
Alex doesn't choose his powers they come on as the need arises.
Alex must also be in known physical danger for his symbiont to aid him. This often means that there is a painful 'learning' phase.

Unable to verbally communicate

Equipment: Access to a fair bit of wealth, many frequent flyer miles and a few vacant holiday homes
Bio: He comes from an extremely wealthy family. His father highly intelligent and a busy NASA corporate figure. His mother passed away when he was young. The circumstances are still unclear.
His powers were a very gradual development. So slow that he cannot recall when it all began. It's only in recent years did it begin to take on a full body manifestation.

Relationships: