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In Warhammer Fantasy: The Guild of Esteemed Sellswords - An adventure in the Warhammer Fantasy world! → 8 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Interest Checks

I'm intrigued! Would an arrogant and adventurous young Bretonnian be a welcome addition?
In Intergalactic Space Adventurers- [ISA] → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Standing amidships within his trusty corvette Bessy Girl Jean Wylder watched the scene played out before him in quiet contemplation. Normally he’d pace the observation deck while in deep thought but at this moment his hand was strapped to a small hovering medical droid. The bot whizzed and whirled, laying open Jean’s hand and repairing the severe damage done. Moving bones, nerves, and veins around in an attempt to restore the appendage to its proper functions. The droid had injected a nervous agent to freeze Jean’s entire arm, reminding him a little too much of the immobilization drug from back at the saloon. The droid worked on and Jean stared intently out the porthole not wanting to look at the mess of bones, and opened flesh his hand currently was.

The Bessy Girl currently sat in stasis in the shadow of a massive gaseous planet Theonia Z14 a few hundred light years from Theonia Z17. The ship’s placement made it effectively invisible to the naked eye, and Jean knew from experience that the massive waves of energy wafting off of Z14 would scramble long range scanners, camouflaging him to any unwanted observers. Jean felt this precaution necessary as through his own observation screens he could see nearly thirty light attack frigates orbiting Theonia Z14. Each one alone having enough weaponry to rip Bessy Girl to shreds.

“So there’s who you’re workin’ for Bart ya asshole.” Jean muttered to himself, watching as a small fleet of landing ships returned to the frigates, seemingly offloading a cargo of some kind taken from the planet’s surface. “Just what are y’all up too?”

“Sheriff, communication with the Bessy Girl[i] is being attempted from Tajax Prime. Station thirteen. Access code seven, seven, bravo, six, two.[i]” A computer generated feminine voice startled Jean from his thoughts. Shall I patch them through?

Jean extended his head ever so slightly. “Go ahead, pull up the display in the observation deck.”

”Aye Sheriff.

For a moment the screen in front of Jean wavered and crackled before a shotty image of another human came into focus. She wore a similar outfit and badge as Jean, with her booted feet propped up on her desk. Seeing who it was Jean touched the tip of his hat in greeting, which the newcomer copied.

“Well howdy there Director Jane Krytok, fancy you patching in ma’am. I didn’t reckon I’d see you for another couple months at least. I must’ve done something right. Or.” He added as an afterthought. “Really wrong…”

“What in the Hell happened with Bart!” Jane blurted out, getting straight to the point. “I just received word from the Cajjy space that they have him in custody! You were supposed to drag his hide back here, not allow the corrupt Cajjinx cops to snag him. He’ll be sitting in a comfy cell for two years before being released on parole, rather than being hung from the noose like he deserves! Now when ‘e gets released we’ll have to send another Marshal into dangerous space to hunt him down. We’ve lost enough good marshals, and rangers pursuing this one man an’ you had to go an’ botch it again. This isn’t good for your record Sheriff, and what th’ Hell happened to you! You look like ya just got stampeded by a herd of Spugheffers! There better be a god damn good reason for all this Sheriff. This don’t look good.”

“Something wrong then.” Jean muttered when Jane paused to take a breath. “Listen, we’ve got a bigger problem. I had Bart but-“

“YOU FUCKING HAD HIM!” Jane screamed. “WHAT THE ACTUAL-“

“Listen Director! I let the Cajjy police take him because he was connected to the situation at Theonia Z17, an’ it don’t seem to dandy. He was smuggling a cache of untraceable kredits to the invasion fleet here. I’m staked out an’ watching them now, it’s a handful of unmarked frigates, a few landing craft an’ snub fighters. They look kinda raggedy, like they were bought independently.”

“Like someone’s building themselves a personal fleet.” Jane cut in, looking a little less angry and a little more interested. “What’s the situation on the surface?”

“I ain’t sure, I can’t get much closer, my camouflaging capabilities ain’t good enough- hang on.” As Jean watched a small smuggling freighter zipped by the invasion fleet off the planet plotting a course past Jean’s hiding spot. The two lawkeepers watched in interest as the freighter zoomed past less than ten lightyears away providing a clear picture for the long range scanners. “The Ranger, looks like another smuggler for the invasion fleet, maybe.”

“They were cloaked, th’ invaders might’ve not even noticed them. They could just be sneaking past.” Jane cautioned. “Was mere luck we saw ‘em.”

“Yeah, or not. It’s a good lead either way an’ Bessy Girl is better suited to dealin’ with freighters than frigates.”

“Right, well follow them then and see if you can detain and question. I’ll get some more marshals on the Theonia situation in the meantime, this is looking to be an intergalactic incident. An’ don’t think I ain’t still mad at ya about Bart. I’m still as pissed as a wet mountain lion.”

“Aye Director I don’t doubt it. Catch ya ‘round.” The display screen switched off and Jean checked his hand, glad to see the bot was nearly finished. Tilting his head up the Sheriff called in a loud, clear voice. “Ship, begin plotting a course after that freighter’s hyperspace trail. Don’t lose the signal. And prepare the engines for a jump, we’re going after the Ranger.”
In Miraculous America → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


In New Miraculous RP → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks

@Rockin Strings I can change it to Ossar. Would that work for you?
In Thy Fearful Symmetry [Lovecraftian WW2 Battle of Britain RP] → 9 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
@BingTheWing
Green one reporting in, all systems go.
In New Miraculous RP → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks

I decided against my other character due to it being to close to some of the others. I like this one better anyway.


In Intergalactic Space Adventurers- [ISA] → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Jean Wylder could accurately recall a number of instances where he’d been in considerably more discomfort than in his current situation. Such as that time when he’d nearly frozen to death on the tundra of Palpetometha, or when he'd received his frost burns and plasma wounds from his first encounter with Cibby. All of those circumstances aside the current beating he was now receiving from the drunken Cajjinxs ranked very high on that list. Their large slimy fists pounded his defenseless form again and again, punctuated by kicks to the face and groin. One of the brutes even smashed every bone in his right hand by pounding his metal heel into the callused appendage. Jean held through all of it unable to even groan or cry out due to his total paralysis, forced to suffer every painful blow. It seemed like hours, days, weeks of torture before Jean was finally released by the total void of unconsciousness.

When Jean came to it felt as if his body was aflame. Pain flared from every nerve protesting their brutal treatment. Blood filled his mouth and nose making it hard to breathe and large angry welts kept his eyes squinted shut. Jean clenched his left hand wishing the agony away.

Wait! Jean clenched his hand again feeling the muscles respond to his commands. A sense of relief washed over him. It was comforting to be back in some control again, the effects of the drugs must have been wearing off. So he wasn’t dead yet…

“Day cycles are short ‘ere on Nethplume.” One of his Cajjinx tormentors was saying. They must’ve grown bored with assaulting him when they realized he’d passed out. “We need to find someplace no one will find him. Any ideas Garth?”

“I arrived with ya bud, how in fuck sake would I know more than y’all?”

Jean wiggled his big toe.

“Just grab him, I’ll check th’ holomaps for someplace to dump him. Any old mineshaft or alley will do. We’re leaving today.”

Rough hands grabbed ahold of Jean’s jacket and the three Cajjinx began dragging him away. A trail of blood following in their wake. Darkness still held sway over the town hiding it in shadow. The three continued muttering to each other but Jean ignored them, instead opening his eyes ever so slightly to take stalk of his situation. Apparently he was facing downward, while two of them held onto fistfuls of his clothing for purchase. And right there a mere three inches from his face was none other than a shiny new blaster pistol, freshly bought and fitted snugly into a leather holster. Jean grinned despite of himself, clenching and unclenching his left hand. He’d have to use his left, his right was currently out of commission. It’d be tough but Jean reckoned he could whip the pistol out, shoot the two holding him before they could react, and blast the third before he could draw iron. What did have to lose?

“There be a Riverwalk ‘bout half a mile from ‘ere. We’ll walk down fifth to avoid any curious folk an’ cut across this ‘ere pleasure field to shave off time. Lookie ‘ere.” The two Cajjinx lugging Jean stopped walking and leaned forward to see what their companion was pointing out. Jean lashed out, his famous speed shown in high regard. Easily snagging ahold of the pistol and wrapping his finger around the trigger.

Unfortunately Jean wasn’t his usual self after his recent beating, and having to use his left hand didn’t help. Jean jerked hard on the pistol grip but couldn’t force it from the sheath. A cry rang out from the Cajjinx he was attacking who reached to force Jean’s hand away. In the split second struggle, the pistol went off. A spray of charred flesh exploded everywhere, the plasma ripping straight through leather, flesh, and bone before burrowing a few feet into the ground. The Cajjinx screamed, falling backward in agony and releasing Jean at the same time. The other two having realized what was happening bellowed in surprise, one jumping to take hold of Jean while the other reached for his own weapon.

Three more blaster bolts lit up the quiet corner flashing two green and one red. A single bolt zipping away into the sky only to be lost from sight moments later. Jean, no longer supported by the Cajjinx’s hand fell wincing as he hit the concrete road. The fight wasn’t over yet. Even as he tried to sit up Jean felt someone grab his leg. Without hesitation Jean aimed in that general direction firing six times in a desperate fury. He counted out five seconds, waiting for the pressure on his leg to subside. Then with the satisfying sound of a collapsing organic body the screaming stopped and silence reigned supreme.

~*~*~*~*~

The early hours of morning brought many headaches with it within Gruta’s Saloon. More than a few Cajjinx miners were sprawled across the tables snoring. Others were wrapping up the night preparing to stagger their way back to the mining ship. Due to Gurta’s distractions with Bart she’d not bothered to close at the customary hour, and so even though the tavern emptied of most of the local assemblage most of the Cajjinx remained.

At the bar Bart was feeling a lot better after his encounter with Sheriff Jean Wylder. The vengeful human would soon be dead if he wasn’t already. And it would take who knew how many cycles before someone found his body, and the human ban in Cajjy space would mean the wrong questions would be asked in regards to his demise. It was the perfect accident to tie up the final loose ends to this entire debacle. Eyes drooping from exhaustion the Cajjinx smuggler stood up, stretching and yawning.

“T’was a pleasure meeting ya miss Gurta. I wish you and this establishment well in the future to come.” He tweaked her fuzzy chin, a wry grin on his face. “Maybe I’ll stop by to visit sometime, I could never forget what you did for me. T’was very courageous.”

“No problem mister. Feel free to come on back If’n ya ever flyin’ by.”

“He ain’t coming back for a long time hon!” At that moment the saloon door burst open off its hinges flying inward to crush a table under its massive weight. Metal bolts, bits of durafiber and chunks of wood flew in every direction. None other than Jean Wylder forced his way into the alehouse astride his massive spughoss Leeroy. The great beast reared scattered tables and Cajjinxes alike. “It’s me bitches! And I went n’ brought the cavalry this time! Yeehaw!”

“Shoot him you idiots, shoot him!” Bart screamed, hurling himself over the bar counter as plasma bolts began flying. The ancient wooden walls burst into flame as wild shots sank into the flammable material, adding to the general chaos of the scene. Jean shot with all his renowned skill dropping any Cajjinx that dared stir, his spreadshot Spacechester in hand. The shotgun nullified the weak hastily taken cover the aliens attempted to hide behind, and within moments those who weren’t passed out drunk were either dead or dying. Some slain outright by Jean, others stomped down under Leeroy’s hooves. Guiding the snorting spughoss over to the bar counter Jean leered over at the cowering Bart.

“Howdy there, I’d appreciate my pistol back.” Jean jerked away, narrowly dodging a red bolt from his own pistol which Bart now held. “Motherfucker, listen close Bart. I could blast ya dead even if you're hide back there. But I still wanna talk. And you have a date with lady justice back on Juplif. So do th cowardly thing, toss me up my gun, then stand up and reach for th’ sky.”

“Don’t shoot, I’ll come out!” Bart cried from behind the bar, and a moment later the pistol clattered onto the surface. Setting the shotgun into his saddle holster Jean scooped up his pistol, checking to make sure no damage was done. Tapping the barrel on the countertop Jean cocked the hammer back pointing it in Bart’s general direction.

“Stand up where I can see ya.”

“This place is on fire.” Bart insisted, nevertheless doing as he was told. Both of his webbed hands stretched high over his head. “We need to leave.”

“I want some answers first Barty. Did you murder, or arrange th’ killing of Detective Vincent?”

“No! I had nothing to do with that. They arranged his accident not me, all I knew was that he would no longer be bothering my run.”

Jean mulled this over for a moment, not seeming to care that the fire was spreading fast and smoke was filling up the saloon. “Whose they?”

“I don’t know. Not really. You know how these things go, they’re careful. And dangerous.” Bart explained. “They took care of any problems and I delivered the kredits right to their fleet. That’s it. Please you gotta believe me.”

The roof creaked ominously and in the distance sirens could be heard.

“Where were you delivering too?” Jean asked at last, releasing the pressure on the hammer, sheathing the pistol into its holster. Looking very relieved Bart lowered his hands a little, a more cynical tone in his voice.

“Ozloron, Theonia, err Z17 I think. I was supposed to give it to the commander of the fleet. I’d get paid my bit then I’d be free to go. They’re undergoing some kind of invasion, I wasn’t filled in on any more than that. But I’ll tell you more, everything I know, just please get me out of here before we all die.”

Jean’s brow creased. “Theonia’s being invaded…” Using his heels Jean guided the big stallion around making a beeline for the entrance, even as the flames rose licking greedily at the bar, spreading faster than ever thanks to the spilt liquor.

“Wait, wait what about me?” Bart cried, not yet confident enough to lower his hands.

“The Cajjy law can deal with y’all. If any of y’all live through the fire.” Jean turned in the saddle, touching the rim of his hat to the shocked Cajjinx. “I’ve got a bigger steer to break. See ya ‘round Barty. I wish ya Hell.”
In Intergalactic Space Adventurers- [ISA] → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Cajjy Space, Fourth Quadrant.
System: Nethplume.
Planet: Nethplume Prime.




A toxic cloud of vapors hung over the gloomy interior of The Guta’s Saloon giving anyone entering without a cleansing mask an almost instant buzz. The chemical concoction perpetuated every aspect of the run down little bar, giving it a smell that took some getting used too. The source of this chemical mix stemmed from the numerous alien smoking devices from a hundred different systems. The diverse collection of creatures ensured the bar always had some new smell and cloud and sight to see. Cajjinxs with their pink tobacco pipes dominated the local scene tonight, filling the tiny saloon with their slimy bulks. A large mining cruiser full of invaluable scented stones from the depths of some gaseous planet had arrived intending to refuel, bringing with it a full crew of thirsty, stressed out Cajjinx workers. And as is common amongst all races, after acquiring their pay they dispersed in droves to the nearest saloons in town.

One wasn’t like the others though. The waiter lass with too many arms and a fuzzy bod noted this early on, giving this newcomer her special attention. While the majority of his kind were dressed in ragged jumpsuits he was adorned in fancy clothes, and his slimy skin was clean and even perfumed and waxed. Clearly he was an officer or manager aboard the mining ship, someone with more than a few kredits to rub together. Why someone high-class like that spent his money in a seedy little alehouse like Guta’s while fancier options were readily available was beyond her. It might’ve had to do with his nervous shaky hand that a few drinks calmed, or the way he checked over his shoulder every few seconds that the intoxicating buzz soon cured, but whatever the reason she knew she was going to take the opportunity and milk him of every kredit he had.

The night was going well for everyone involved, the mysterious rich Cajjinx was enjoying himself very much, even as his bank account grew emptier. The waiter lass was about to call it a good night when a strange looking human walked into the saloon, bold as brass expectorating into the spittoon. Most everyone ignored him as he strode across the room boots clacking on the wooden floor before taking a seat at the bar next to the rich Cajjinx and waiter lass.

“Whisky hon, and bring it fast. I’ve been to every bar in this damned station town looking for this here man. I haven’t gotten to drink once and I’m thirstier than a desert locked tumbleweed.” The waitress eyed the stranger, a look of bemusement on her face. The man waited patiently for a moment before tipping his cattle hat. “Yes, I know I’m dashing, just, th’ drink please. I’ve got business with my quarry here.”

“You’re in these here parts illegal mister.” The waitress accused at last, gathering enough wits to challenge this intruder. “Humans ‘r banned from Cajjy space, by law ya know. I ought to call th’ coppers on ya.”

“Oh that really wouldn’t be necessary. I’m Sheriff Jean Wylder after all, no need to be all repetitious with more lawmen. I’m sure I could handle any illegals on my own.”

The wealthy Cajjinx who was looking rather ill began to stand up, slurring some excuse under his breath. Faster than a snake’s bite Jean’s hand whipped down to his waist unsheathing a dangerous looking pistol. Keeping the weapon hidden under the bar’s lip Jean motioned for the Cajjinx to retake his seat, a new deadly hint plainly evident in his voice. “Now we don’t want no mess do we? So I suggest we all play nice and talk this out like reasonable folk over a shot of whisky. Wouldn’t you agree honey? So why don’t ya amble over to them bottles nice and pleasant like, get us something to drink so we can discuss our problems out together.”

The waiter lass stood, eyeing Jean maliciously. “I’m gonna call th’ coppers. There ain’t no weapons allowed in here. Ya need to leave ‘afore ya get ya’self killed human!”

“No, don’t!” The wealthy Cajjinx grabbed the waitress’s arm, stopping her from striding over to the holophone.

“Oh Bart’s also wanted here.” Jean explained. “Even in Cajjy space he’s a hunted man. Smart of you to come here by the way, it was like number fifty on my list of where I’d find you sulking."

“Just bring us drinks.” The wealthy Cajjinx urged. “I’ll handle him.” He said this final part a little louder, and through the smoke gloom a few of the nearby Cajjinx miners began taking an interest in the goings on at the bar.

Jean didn’t seem to notice, instead focusing his attention on the Cajjinx seated next to him, his pistol kept pointed at the Cajjinx’s groin. “So, Barty, Barty, my Bart. You’ve been a bad boy as of late. Your wanted alive, and my what a bounty.” Jean gave a low whistle, settling back into his bar stool. “So, remind me. What’s it you’ve been doing that’d get you such a high price to see you locked away for good?”

“Smuggling…”

“And?”

“Money laundering…”

“And…?”

“…”

“Nothing else ya wanna to admit too, that’s all ya did wrong? But I know better, sneaking hundreds of untraceable kredits ya stole from hard working folk back on system Juplif wasn’t enough for ya was it. No, of course not. You had to go an’ murder Detective Vincent while ya were about it too!”

Bart slammed his fist down on the bar a look of horrified anger. “You have no proof of that Sheriff! I didn’t murder the detective, he died from an accident that was tragic and unavoidable. Your own personal vendetta against me is bad enough, but I will not stand by and be accused of crimes I didn’t commit!”

“Ya murdered him, and I’ll prove it too!”

The two men seemed about to go to blows, guns aside when the waitress returned with two whisky glasses which she set down beside them. Jean reached for his with his free hand downing it in a single gulp. The waiter lass gave a slight giggle, which Jean, still angry from his confrontation with Bart snapped at.

“What are ya guffawing ‘bout?”

“Nothin’, sorry mister. I ain’t laughing at nothin’.”

Jean turned back to Bart, sizing the Cajjinx up and down. Slowly he raised the pistol until it pointed straight between the alien’s eyes.
“Come clean you son of a bitch, you murdered Detective Vincent.”

“No. I. Didn’t. Don’t think you can sentence me to your gallows so easily Sheriff. I know your rules, if you bring me in dead ya don’t get your reward. You’re a dirty cop trying to strike it rich. Accuse me of what you want, you’ll never get that out of me!”

“You’re talking mighty bold for someone who just wet himself Bart.”

“And you’re talking mighty bold for someone who’s outnumbered and outgunned.” It was Bart’s turn to smile defiantly as the clicks of many hammers and bolts being drawn back sounded all around. The waiter lass laughed aloud this time, and many others joined her in the chorus of good humor. Jean on the other hand looked stony faced.

“Things’ll be worse for ya if’n ya kill a lawman Bart. Tell ya boys to back off.”

“You forget where we are Sheriff, this ain’t Tejaxs. This here is Cajjy space and you’re not welcome round these parts.”

“Bet’cha I could shoot six of y’all ‘afore I go down. Includin’ you Bart. Wanna test my iron?” Jean, clearly grasping at straws began to slowly stand, the iron sights of a dozen weapons following his movements.

“No, not at all.” Bart agreed, rising with the cornered Sheriff. “Which is why you’ll have to search for your jackpot elsewhere. Lest you make the same mistake as the good Detective. Accidents are bound to happen to the foolhardy. My boys’ll escort you out Sheriff.”

A low growl rumbled in Jean’s throat but he had no other choice. Keeping his pistol centered on Bart’s face in an attempt to maintain the tiny bit of control he had left over the situation he began to back away. “I’ve been in tighter spots before Barty, Detective Vincent will get his justice. And all y’all get yours too.” Jean took a step and suddenly swayed like drunken man, as if he was struggling to stay balanced. The Cajjinx miners tensed a hairs-breadth away from shooting the Sheriff dead, thinking this was some kind of ploy to catch them off guard.

“What th’ Hell is wrong with you?” Bart said at last, once it became clear this was no trick. “One glass o’ whiskey did that to ya?”

“He drugged!” The waitress lass crowed, having been about to burst from keeping secret her own play in the dangerous game. “I put it in his drink, he’s helpless, hahaha!”

Jean Wylder gave the waitress one last look of pure fury before succumbing to the drug’s effects and toppling to the dirty floor. The Cajjinxes joined in with the waitress’s laughter, and even Bart, despite his soiled under garments joined in.

“I suppose I’m lucky to have such a smart and beautiful friend.” He quipped planting a kiss on the waitress’s fuzzy head. The lass’s many arms quivered and she hugged the Bart close.

“I’ll be your friend long as ya keep paying for drinks mister.”

“Wot should we do with him?” One of the Cajjinx miners asked, kicking at Jean’s limp body. The Sheriff was very much still conscious. He’d lost all control of his body, and try as he might no amount of will power could convince even his little finger to move.

“I don’t care,” Bart said distracted, having become very interested in the waitress all of a sudden. “Take him outside, rough him up a bit and toss him off a bridge. Find some way to get rid of him, he’s spoiling the atmosphere. Just don’t been seen by any law enforcement. Remember I’m still a wanted man ‘round here.”

Three of the drunker Cajjinx, jumping at the chance to off the Sheriff stepped forward assuring they would handle it. Taking Jean by his hair and arms they dragged him outside onto the filthy street and proceeded to do just that…
In Western (yet to be named) → 9 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Interest Checks

Hey Candy, I'd love to do a Western role play with all the rough n' tough awesomeness that comes with it. I ain't really interested in a love story of any kind though, but I'd be happy to play as your character's nephew or younger cousin whose tagging along wanting to help his aunt or cousin achieve her vengeance. My main character would be a boy about fourteen or fifteen, and the focus on him would be a coming of age type of tale. He'd not be much to look at, and hardly all that tough but he wants to prove he's more than just some momma's boy.

Anyway if that's something your looking for give me a tag.
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