Infamous Empath

ENDGAME

Raider/Berserkir: Deschain Variant- 6DUR/8EQU/2STR/3DEX/2VIS/4CHA/3AGL/4SKL/5LCK
Negotiator/Assassin: Bundy Variant-2DUR/4EQU/5STR/2DEX/6VIS/8CHA/4AGL/6SKL/3LCK
Raider/Assassin: Karma Variant- 3DUR/4EQU/3STR/6DEX/5VIS/3CHA/6AGL/6SKL/1LCK

NAME: Heston Fellwright
Handle: Gunslinger

APPEARANCE:

My Hider

BIO: Heston never trusted the government, or the corporations, and the same could be said for big ships with lots of people on them. He prefers to work alone, or with one or two other people. In a pinch or if the incentive is good enough, he will work with four to six people. No more. However, in his personal life, he's a pretty easy guy to get along with. He had to kill a few men in duels, for which he's famous for winning. But he is very trustworthy and dependable, unless there's a beautiful woman nearby. His ex left him for another guy a few years ago; turns out, it's his brother. Not cool. So he shot him in a duel. You know, but otherwise, Heston's a pretty standup guy. A few months ago he was hired to do a job, but the small company wanted him to work with one of their security guys. He said no, they insisted. So he went along with it but the security guy tried to betray him, so Heston did what any sensible person would do: he spaced him. And then he went to court against the company and now that company no longer exists. Now he's just looking for another job so he can afford another shot of whiskey...

CLASS & VARIANT: raider/berserker

EQUIPMENT: two revolvers (at least), a wrist action Winchester rifle, a bowie knife (all hanging in his room, he doesnt use them); Durandal Arms and Armor 'Sybaris' Lever action Marksman rifle (firearm),
Smith & Wesson Model 682 Single Action Revolver (firearm) x2, and a Hardlight dagger given to him by some military officer.

==================================================================================

NAME: Daren Masters
Handle: Space Lord

APPEARANCE:

My Hider

BIO:

CLASS & VARIANT: negotiator/assassin

EQUIPMENT: small arms mostly, maybe something stealthy

=================================================================================

NAME: Elijah Jonas
Handle:

APPEARANCE:

My Hider

BIO:

CLASS & VARIANT: raider/assassin

EQUIPMENT: small arms mostly, maybe something stealthy

ENDGAME

hey, due to real life and other RPs that im already in, i wont be able to really get anything done until like tomorrow or saturday. i was thinking i could have my character be a lonewolf merc who shows up later to help, but if you need to nix my character from the RP i understand. sorry

but i have caught up on the OOC posts at least...

finished (i think) Heston's profile in the character tab. will have a go at the other two...at some point

Heroes and Villains : The Resistance (HAV : TR)

lol i hope thats sarcasm.

also, i used to watch RvB religiously. but now im more into their Lets Plays

EDIT: GM Timemaster is going to bed and will post IC tomorrow.

in case anyone was wondering.

Character Crossover Crisis City: Reboot

interested in doing this with realistic OCs. but i may use Dean Winchester or something...

Heroes and Villains : The Resistance (HAV : TR)

"If I Ever Leave This World Alive"

Eleven Days Ago...

The roguishly handsome form of The Infamous D'ren Connor McDonnell shimmered into visibility on a bar stool beside his ex-girlfriend, a blond with telekinetic powers. He took the glass of whiskey she slid his way. Kassandra Stirling didn't even look at him, but he never took his eyes off her as he sipped the beverage.

"I've been livin' in caves and sewers for months," the Irishman groused, "and when I come out into the open, ya can't even look at me?" He set down the half empty glass, a look that resembled a mixture of resentment and lust.

Kassandra turned to him and stoically stated, "I don't owe you anything, Daren. What do you want? Why are you here?" Her tone was Oklahoman.

The resentment pushed aside the lust and he leaned forward, cocking his head to the side. "I didn't feckin' ask ye fer shite. I just came to warn ye the Skats are comin'..."

At first Kassandra was unsure of what he meant, but since she knew that often attributed slurs to people and things he didn't particularly like, it didn't take long for her to realize he meant Skits. She swiftly stood, her seat nearly knocked over.

"When?" she asked fearfully, raising her hands slightly in a defensive posture as she glanced nervously over her shoulder at the entrance.

"Oh don't worry," said The Infamous as he stood up, drawing one of his dual Colt .45 handguns. "I won't let 'em take ya."

It wasn't that she couldn't have prevented him from shooting her in the chest three times; it was simply that she didn't actually think he'd do it. After all, he could easily make her invisible...

Kassandra collapsed on the scuffed wooden floor, and the bartender and few patrons in the bar bolted for the exit. Left alone in the bar, D'ren set his pistol on the counter and returned to his drink. Kassandra was sputtering and choking on her own blood, pathetically reaching up toward her former lover as tears rolled down her pained face. He glanced down at her and sighed, hearing the Skits coming for the door. D'ren placed the gun behind the counter.

"Sorry love," D'ren said as he once again stood up, this time unceremoniously stepping over her as she took her last few breaths, "but ye're not me girl no more."

Casually strolling over to the coat rack by the front door, D'ren grabbed his black leather duster and put it on. He'd confiscated the coat off a dead British officer, one he'd killed personally. The duster came to just past his knees, and looked rugged from combat and time. D'ren walked over to the back of the bar and turned on some music before he drew both his other sidearm and a K-bar combat knife. Then he just waited for them to come...

Present

Unlike most of the prisoners, D'ren was completely fine with being left isolated for several days. In fact, he'd hoped to be left in the cell for a lot longer; contemplation, reflection, and simply enjoying his fantasies was a lot more interesting than anything in this world, pre- or post-apocalypse.

So when Portal teleported in and started talking to everyone, he groaned and sat down on the floor at the back of his cage. Dressed in practically prison rags, D'ren leaned his disheveled dark hair against the wall behind him and propped his arms over his raised knees.

When Portal came to his cell last, D'ren just glowered at her murderously. "I don't touch people...unless I'm doin' 'em." He grinned. "And by 'doin',' I mean killin'...usually. I'm sure we can make an exception for ya, hot stuff."

He glanced to the right and left conspiratorially before whispering, "Ye do know half of us are super-villains right?"

Heroes and Villains : The Resistance (HAV : TR)

posting now. sorry, was off surviving an apocalypse in a sewer (Sewer Rats IC)

Futuristic Space Roleplay

oh ok. it was mainly this part that confused me. "Fly your own ship or be a part of a crew "

Sewer Rats

Eli couldn't leave them. But one by one, those he tried to help, died, usually in his arms. There had been four in all, in his last group, and now there was one. He carried a near empty backpack as he humped through the sewers. Feeling hungry, he stopped walking and pulled the pack off him. Opening it, he saw the final can of Dinty Moore stew. He sighed and closed the bag before continuing to walk.

Hearing someone up a head, Eli concealed himself around a corner. The darkness made it impossible for him to get a good look, but he thought he could hear multiple women entering some sort of chamber that echoed. He thought for a moment to consider what this might mean. Echoes like that mean tall ceiling, which means more space, which means a possible place to scavenge for or store food and other supplies.

Ever the trusting type, Eli was about to move around the corner to greet them, but he stopped. When has that ever worked? Once. The other dozen or so times nearly ended with his life removed from him, and certainly what little food he had. But from what he could discern from their voices, they sounded like all women. Surely he could take a couple of girls if they tried anything. Well, depending how many there were. Besides, at this stage, everyone had been hardened into a survivor, not a victim. All of the victims perished within the first couple years, once the strong ones realized that protecting the weak risked their own lives.

However, Eli had never held to that philosophy. "Do unto others."

So he inhaled deeply, took his knife from his pocket, flipped it open in his knuckle-gloved hands, and slowly moved down the sewer toward the voices. As he approached the door, he was shocked. Without even entering the room, he could see a couple of them clearly, through the door that they had carelessly left open for some reason. Perhaps they were expecting someone else? Perhaps they were expecting him. That's a scary thought.

Eli clenched his blade more firmly and swallowed nervously before clearing his throat, getting Collette's attention at the very least.

Sewer Rats

ok thanks. im halfway through the second post

edit: finished. but im trying to find a good reason for my character to have remained in NY for ten years... when i made my CS, i forgot it had been ten years since the apocalypse.

EDIT 2: NObody has closed the door yet right?

Sewer Rats

should Eli be there for a while, just showing up, or have been there for a few days?

nevermind it looks like everyone is showing up as strangers at the same time? is that right?