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11 yrs ago
Current To all I'm in RPs with: I apologise if my replies are sparse. Life isn't kind.
11 yrs ago
BLUH

Bio

My name is DJ.
I am a roleplayer.
A roleplayer of roughly a good decade now.
I write a lot of things, and am able to roleplay a lot of things.

Random Things about me
- I run a small YouTube channel.
- I listen to a helluva lot of music. Love music.
- I'm from Singapore. It's a little island in Southeast Asia.

Anywho, I've not been RPing for a long long time, but here I am, hopefully to make a few friends and RP some.

Most Recent Posts

John Lee Enfield



“And it is because my hands are blessed by God, so shall they smite those undeserving of his forgiveness!”

| ARCHETYPE |
The Preacher

| AGE |
34

| SPECIES - ETHNICITY |
Human - Erde; stands five foot ten, wearing common priest or wandering preacher clothing, along with a dark brown cloak, full fingered gloves, and boots instead of shoes. The cloak's inside has been specially tailored to hold a variety of things. Emblazoned on the cloak's back is a large gothic cross, and he is never seen without an umbrella or a large-brimmed hat for those sunny or rainy days. Always has a chain with religious symbols around his neck.

| PERSONALITY |
Lee is a headstrong, upright individual who greets challenges and tasks head on with a smile and a fervour matched only by those with similar passions for their craft.

| SKILLS - ABILITIES |
  • Fair Marksman - Though not as skilled as others in the same field, traveling from town to town to preach has also lent Lee a good eye for marksmanship. He can hit a target, but give him something harder than an empty bottle at twenty paces and he'll struggle.
  • Hardy - Walking or riding on horseback through the deserts and backcountry roads has given the good Preacher a tan, strong legs and a hearty disposition to life.
  • Strong - One has to be to lead the wanderer's life, especially if said life includes encounters with wayward bandits or the occasional wild wolf or coyote, or worse: bear. A chance encounter with one is the exact reason why Lee keeps a knife on him at all times. He can fend for himself when push comes to shove.
  • Intelligent - Books. Reading. Not for the common man, but for Lee, they are a way of life. His way of life. By bestowing the knowledge contained within His Word, Lee passes on God's wisdom from one troubled individual to the next.


| FLAWS - DISADVANTAGES |
  • Religious Zeal; a fire is in Lee's eyes, a fire from God that cannot be quenched. As a result, more often than not, if his faith influences his decision-making, he will make the decisions more in line with what he knows is God's will, and not more ethical, or smarter choices.
  • Stubborn; Lee is, first and foremost, very very stubborn, and if he can't get his way he'll fight to get his way unless absolutely convinced of other options.


| INVENTORY - EQUIPMENT |
  • Traveler's Cloak - A fine, tailored brown cloak, this handy garment keeps Lee cool and protected in the sunlight, and warm at night. Of course, being a traveler firstly and a preacher second, the cloak is also specially tailored and fitted with numerous pockets, holsters and pouches in its inner lining. His most prominent possessions within his cloak are:
    • Wolfe | Type A x 2 - Fitted into special holsters inside his cloak, Lee keeps these two guns always close at hand when he travels into territories that are often patrolled by bandits or thieves.
    • Hawking | Coach Gun - Surprising that a preacher would carry around a shotgun, Lee has sawn off most of the barrel of this long coach gun so it can fit easily inside his cloak. The coach gun sits within its holster on the back of his cloak, and is only used in very desperate times.
    • Knife - Also fitted to the inside of his cloak, Lee keeps a very sharp knife handy for up close and personal encounters with angry wildlife that are too fast for bullets.
    • Bible - Not carrying this would be aL blasphemy too terrible for words. He keeps this little pocket-sized holy text within a small pocket near his chest, so he can constantly draw on its spiritual power and conveniently reach it if he needs to.
    • Crucifix - A plain silver cross on a chain, this is also folded in one of the cloak's many pockets.


| BACKGROUND |
Born to a fiercely religious family, it was obvious that Lee would follow in his parent's footsteps. However, the road that the Lord would take him was one of hardship more than anything else. His father, a good, upstanding man who tended a general store when not preaching in church, came to him one day with grave news: a relative that lived out in the countryside was deathly ill, but they had not the resources to travel such a distance to pray for and tend to them together. They only had enough for one person: him. It was with a heavy heart that Lee left his home and took a train out into the sticks, hoping to return.

It was a journey that would never end.

After reaching the small backwater town his distant relative was in, he searched high and low for him, only to find that he had passed days before, while he was still on the train. Without the money to pay for a return trip, Lee instead went looking for work, eventually finding an honest job tending to the horses in the town's stables. It was there that the fires of faith lit themselves in his heart; had he not prayed, or left sooner, his uncle would not have died such a death, with no one by his side. It was then that he vowed to himself to spread God's word, so that no one else should suffer such pain if their loved ones were out of reach.

Thus began his long journey through various towns and cities, preaching the word by day, working by night to pay rent and for food and water. Eventually his travels led him to such chance encounters with bandits who robbed him of every penny, wild dogs that left him a bleeding wreck outside of a town, among other harsh lessons of life.

It was on this journey that his wandering led him to Blackwood, present day. It is here that he has made his temporary home, working as a stablehand while sharing the good news of God.


| GOALS - ASPIRATIONS |
Lee aspires to travel the world, spreading the good word of the Lord to all the peoples who would listen and repent of their sins.
I have to ask: is the religion in this, Virtue Worship, is it similar at all to Christianity?
Name/Nicknames: John "Guardsman" Parsons

Age: 27

Appearance: Alan stands six foot two, with dirty brown hair and brown eyes. His build of your average military-trained man; well built shoulders, torso and legs, muscled arms. However, the wasteland has left his cheeks sallow and gaunt, his eyes hollow, and his body in tortured shape. Scars criss cross his chest and back, and two go over his face; one over his left eye, which is blind, and the other horizontally across his nose. His way of dress is decidedly unique; in the ruins of Buckingham Palace, John found a set of full, if faded, queen's guard uniforms, complete with combat boots and the like, and minus that silly huge furry hat. In place of the huge furry hat, he wears a faded red beret without any insignia or badges on it.

Race: Human

Personality: John is a simple man; if it's edible, he'll eat it. If it's potable, he'll drink it. If it's trying to kill him, he'll kill it then decide on if it's edible. Surviving in the wasteland for many years on his own have made him a ghost of his former self. Cynical and world-weary, John is a seeker of peace and solace, either in sheltered conditions, or in death.

He rarely often jokes, and if one were to crack a joke he barely would respond, unless he were feeling safe or if the joke were particularly amusing. He is also loyal, although his loyalty mainly comes from who provides the most coin. However, if John trusts someone, they can always count on him to protect them and keep them from harm.

Skills/Attributes:

  • Hand-to-Hand Combat; after surviving years in the wastes on his own, John has become adept at the fine art of murdering someone in close range, be it with his rifle-spear, his knife, or his fists.
  • Survivalist; it has become second nature to John. He knows good places to find water, dirty but unaffected by radiation, and he knows how to kill a radstag or molerat and cook its meat efficiently.
  • Protector; if you're in John's good books, chances are you're protected for life, especially if you travel with him.


Backstory: John Parsons was born long after the bombs fell and the people emerged into a burned out, shell of a country. A world weary of its exertions, waiting to die from inevitability. Unlike most who were surviving out in the countrysides where farmland was rare but an actual thing, John instead found himself in urban London, growing up amongst the wreckage as his parents, survivors and settlers trying to make a living in the city ruins, moved from building to building in an attempt to forage a living.

When he turned eighteen, both his parents were dead from raider attacks and the feral ghouls that stalked out from the former London Underground. Forced to seek shelter and live life alone, he took to stealing, scavenging and even downright murder to get by.

Eventually he found himself in Buckingham Palace, where there had used to be a Haven underneath the palace grounds for London's royalty. They were all dead now, of course, but what remained of the queen's guard...remained. He found himself in possession of a uniform of a guardsman, although he never knew who they once were, and found it fitting. The rifles kept in storage and on display in the palace were, although unusable as firearms, served as clubs just as well, and with a lucky find of a bayonet, John had himself a spear, and thus he set out wandering. His goal was to exit the city and head for the countryside, in the hopes that he'd find shelter somewhere out there.

Years went by. John honed his skills in the fine art of manslaughter and occasionally lent his services out guarding caravans for what meagre supplies or currency they had. Rumours began to abound of the red-dressed "Guardsman" in the English county wastes, a mercenary that did dirty work for what remained of English royalty, or so the stories went. Slowly he grew weary of the bloodshed and murder, though he saw no other alternatives to his life.

It was around this low point that John stumbled upon the town of Silvershaw while escorting a trading caravan there. The town gave him a glimpse into a life he'd never thought he'd have: a peaceful one, where his blade would go unbloodied for more than a week, and where he would have human company that wasn't trying to murder him. It was where he finally made his home, as an actual town guard and night watchman, gazing over the rolling hills and into the night sky with an old pair of binoculars as the moon shone bright in the sky.

Equipment:

  • M1 Garand w/ long serrated bayonet; useless without proper ammunition, John uses this old relic rifle more as a spear than anything else.
  • Binoculars; self explanatory.
  • Scrap bootknife; a small dagger made of a sharpened shard of metal with some cloth wrapped around it, John keeps this rudimentary backup weapon in his boot, ready in case someone pounces on him without his weapon ready.
Gonna make a preacher character.
Gonna be making a queen's guard. Or, supposedly a queen's guard.

Armed with an old M1 Garand with a bayonet attached to it. With no bullets.
"No. Nothing close to this. I can only heal, not conjure this amount of...wonder."

Skrax lowered his hood and took in the sights of the tower proper. With staff in hand he took to slowly pacing around the circular chamber, his gaze staring up towards the ceiling, through the starry sky that he knew was false. After a while he returned his gaze back to the sides of the chamber, looking around for an exit or perhaps a door.

"Well, in any case, we need to decide where to go from here. Anyone...have any ideas?"
Yes. Joining this.
"Huh."

Daniel stood, breaking free of his cloak of ice. He shook off bits of frost as he adjusted his cap and walked slowly towards the figure.

"Hey. I mean you no harm too. Just wandering."

In his slate gray hooded jacket, jeans and sneakers, he was most likely a strange sight to the traveler. However the sword strapped to his waist in its sheath and the two guns holstered on his lower back would most definitely be familiar sights. With his palms raised, he approached the traveler and tried his best to look non-threatening.

"You, uh, know where we are? I kinda stumbled onto this place by accident."
I promise I'll get a post up sharpish.
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