JFK

Lunar Dome 10

Eel was surprised to be answered first by the quiet Xi, but he was at least glad to hear she was still trooping along. Even if she looked two steps out from death's door. His brow furrowed and folded over his heavy red lenses on mention of the cow. He had slept through that part of the announcement.

"Genetically, I mean. It's still sick."

@Lemons

"Cow?? ...I don't know... Kaplan is definitely some kind of mutant." He was glad the head honcho wasn't here so far to give him some snide retort, he could verbally attack him without worrying about self-defense.

"No fucking clue on Prime, but if anyone sees that lunar debris sound off, I'm overdue to head out there anyways."

@Eisenhorn

Arthur sounded worried when he replied to Isaac. "Well lad, whatever it is, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that it's still hazardous. Just be careful out there son. But I'm sure you were already planning that."

Arthur glanced down at his mobile datapad. His spoon hung halfway between his mouth and his bowl. He was busily chewing on the inside of his cheek. A blinking light on the pad notified him that the harvester had parked itself in the Cauldron and shut down for maintenance. It could wait until his breakfast was over.

In The Black (A Clean-Up Crew RP)

Fazzone made me chuckle. What do you promote cannon fodder to? Meatshield Manager?

Lunar Dome 10

There was a strange little canvas cocoon strung up between two conveniently positioned palm trees: Arthur's hammock. His ocular lenses focused as his optic nerve engaged. His version of opening his eyes. Holiday's announcement blaring from a speaker was the only thing that had ruined his idyllic slumber. He grumbled vague profanities about the Concern. "...a particularly troublesome laboratory [redacted], it has been vented into lunar void..." This stopped him in his tracks and made him furrow his brow. He was disappointed there wasn't more details. He'd have to keep an eye out, maybe have a word with Isaac. Whatever was 'particularly troublesome' to his 'employers' wasn't anything that Eel wanted to encounter.

On mention of the harvester, Arthur humped himself out of his sack and trundled over to the Cauldron. It wasn't far at all. He entered via the main vehicle port and waved one of his pincers in the direction of the motion sensor. The workshop began to light up. His first port of call was the counter in the corner that he had arranged a strange looking array of gizmos and lab equipment. He flipped a switch and the main chamber began to spin up. It was a very fancy vacuum coffee siphon. One of the maintenance team's best kept secrets. It was pretty hard to spot among the general chaos of the Cauldron, so none of the crew that weren't familiar with the main workshop had ever actually noticed it. Arthur had gone off of regular coffee a couple decades ago, but he still had a deep appreciation for the taste and ritual of the whole process, so he indulged in the most bougie possible cup of flat black decaf each morning. He'd dedicated a small cabinet within the shop to the decaffeination and roasting process. Over the past three years Eel had probably spent more time tinkering with and perfecting his coffee assembly than he had actually working. But by now he was pretty confident in his claim of having the best damn cup of joe in the solar system. As the siphon did it's thing he ambled over to the nearest control tablet and thumbed through the list of harvesters. It was pretty obvious which one had the fault because it was lit up bright red and flashing. He held a thumb down on the recall icon. Holiday hummed in confirmation and the tablet flashed in response to prove to Arthur that the Harvester was on it's way to the Cauldron. He probably had about half an hour to an hour before it made it into the maintenance bay.

So it was time for some breakfast. Arthur loafed over to the hab units and entered the main kitchen. There they were: his beloved colleagues. He had his signature coy grin on his face as he pottered about the main kitchen. He spoke out to no one in particular: "Some crazy shit seems to be going down on Ell-Dee Prime. Spooky stuff. Any of you know anymore on it?" While speaking he had served himself some Dome-yoghurt, drizzled it with their own honey, and dashed some granola on-top. He sat down, suitably far enough from anyone else so as too not poke anyone's eye out with his extra appendages.

Lunar Dome 10

@Fading Memory I love what you've done with Ozymandias. Very fitting for his ex-colleagues I think. I wonder what's in the vault... Weapons? Drugs? Gold? Advanced 3D printing equipment?

Absolutely fantastic first post!

̸/̸̅̅ ̆̅ ̅̅ ̅̅𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝚃⌖ 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴̸/̸̅̅ ̆̅ ̅̅ ̅̅

The Vet

Two punks thought they could skip without paying for treatment. Now Joe needs to go out and uphold his reputation, lest the street thugs start thinking they can use him as a doormat.

Joseph 'Joe' McGabhann | 58 | 5'9 | Male

..................................................................................

Business: Joe McGabhann is the owner and head physician at the Waggy Tails Emergency Veterinary clinic. He has multiple employees that manage the legal side of the business. He makes plenty of money off of the vet business. On paper, he's doing most of the managerial work. In reality, his assistant manager Becca runs the business. Joe is present to operate the illicit side of the emergency clinic. Any criminal worth their salt knows that Joe is the guy to go to in order to get a bullet hole stitched up without any questions asked. He's been doing this for a decade now. He is required to prioritise the criminals working for big bosses. The Irish come first, and then the Italians, and then the rabble. He refuses to treat blacks, Hispanics, or known jews unless they can pull the right strings with Joe's higher ups. There are plenty of nights when he'll have five grown men waiting about the back alley with bullet holes, and no animals in the waiting room. Despite their shady dealings, the clinic is still popular among various well-to-do pet owners of Minninoona.

..................................................................................

Savvy: Aside from his obvious medical skill, Joe knows his way around a handgun. On the rare occasion he meets up with his buddies, they usually go to the range and shoot the shit. He has a couple pieces he prizes, and a couple pieces he wields. He can legally concealed carry. He also bakes a mean pineapple upside down cake. He drives.

..................................................................................

Ruin: Joe grew up in a happy family. He was lucky enough that his dad didn't hit him or his mother; despite the fact that Joe's dad was a Union Teamster. The man was involved in a lot of shady dealings that Joe was never privy to. He excelled in school, mostly because of his mother's encouragement and the relatively positive environment he was raised in. He loved animals, so he decided to become a vet.
Any robber worth their salt knows to visit a vet if they want a bullet hole patched up without questions asked. During his first year of practice some thug named Curt paid him a visit. After pressuring him with his iron, Joe reluctantly agreed to patch her up. He learnt to carry a strap after that. Pretty quickly, word got out within the underworld that the city had a new fixer vet that wouldn't snitch. Joe was unsure about getting involved in the life, but he appreciated the money so he didn't protest too much. After a few years he had enough money to buy out the clinic. He moved himself up and out of regular treatment and began too focus on his new specialisation. By the time he was ready to wrap up the operation he was informed that he was too useful to the syndicates for him too retire from the life. He was locked in now.
Sometime after he bought the place out, the war broke out. He would've been a bad fit for the draft. But Joe's particular skills made him desirable to some bigheads in the army. They fast-tracked him through bootcamp by calling him a PQO or something (he wouldn't have survived bootcamp otherwise, he was already into his 40s). After that, they flew him out to the jungle where he spent nearly half a decade operating on the few thousand attack dogs they had there. It was a pretty cushy position compared to most of the fellas that got stuck in the jungle. But he still saw some nasty shit. Mostly mangled dog remains, but that still sticks with a man.

..................................................................................

Cred:
"The doc patches up a bullet hole real good."
"He ain't talkin', we know where he lives. He's got two cute kids."
"I heard he keeps a .38 in his desk. Just pay him dawg, it's not worth it. Especially if you're already beat up."
"No Reg, he can't retire. Who else will fix our boys up after they take a slug? His mouth is sealed shut. Go and have a chat with him. Make sure we're on the same page."
"Don't go in the front door bleeding, the bitch at reception will just tell you to go to hospital. You gotta knock on the back door and know the magic words."
"I swear I saw the doc hanging out with that fairy faggot. You think he's a sick fuck or too dense to know that the chick has a dick?"

..................................................................................

Ilk:
Family Man: He realised too late how easy it was to track down his loved ones. Two kids, the oldest is in college. And his wife. It's rare to find someone with the expertise that is willing to turn a blind eye to whatever underhanded wounds they might have. If Joe tries to leave, him and his family are in mortal danger. On occasion, he's had some close calls with his clever wife looking into some of his underhanded dealings. But so far, she doesn't really know what he gets up to.
A Harmless Vice: Over the years Joe has sampled the medication. He's gotten a taste for escaping from reality with substances when he has the chance. He'll do ketamine if he doesn't have anything else, but Cocaine is his favourite. He also has a soft spot for whores of all varieties.

̸/̸̅̅ ̆̅ ̅̅ ̅̅𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝚃⌖ 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴̸/̸̅̅ ̆̅ ̅̅ ̅̅

@JFK If you're okay with using google docs, I'm happy to help you put together the formatting like how I did.

@enmuni

Very kind offer. I can't accept though.

@JFK Improved readability while technically not "necessary" is always a kindness. Extra aesthetic flourishes are nice. But ultimately, the content itself matters most.

I like your edits across the board so far. The Creds section feels particularly seedy now!

@TokyoPewPew

Noted. I'll add in some dividers before I post the final in the right tab! It'll be done very shortly.

In The Black (A Clean-Up Crew RP)

Stephen Stokes
Briefing Room -> Armoury
Rebel Radio

The only questions Stephen had could only be answered by getting boots on the ground. But he stayed out of politeness and because leaving early would draw unwanted attention. He listened as the woman who made his skin crawl asked her astute questions. He did not like the Doctor. She was obviously very competent and that is threatening. Along with that, despite her best efforts: the lady was obviously very French, and quite possibly Israeli. He didn't have proof, but he had learnt to trust his intuition. And those two nationalities rang alarm bells in Viktor's mind. Infamously both groups were underhanded and ruthless.

After dismissal Stephen slithered towards his equipment bay. He attempted to inconspicuously stay in Grande's shadow. The giant made a very good foil to Stephen. He was glad to have him on his team. Enzo was competent, and eager to do all of the things that Viktor didn't want to: rig explosives and faff about with computers. The skills that Viktor loathed the most. The M11 would've been Stephen's first choice. He had a very good time with an Albanian M11 in the 90s. But alas, they were increasingly harder to find in this day and age. So he had made due with a tailor made MP7. And a Colt Python he had customised himself. The MP7 was rechambered in FN 5.7, the python had a custom cylinder to fit .44 magnum. 5.7 was a versatile calibre in his experience, and the revolver could made up for it's lack in stopping power. He was lucky Acheron's ammo techs had a good supplier for both.

Along with his PDW and sidearm, he had an Altyn R8 helmet with integrated comms. His face was covered with a spandex balaclava. His black chest rig had a nametag to identify him and monochrome Union Jack on display. He had three magazines, a dump pouch with loose rounds, and a distinct lack of grenades. He had a hefty surgeon's satchel full of a wide-range of cutting edge first-aid equipment and a healthy array of medication vials. Pain relief, nerve-agent treatments, blood clotting agents, wound sealant. You name it: it was in the bag. He even had a compact defibrillator and a gasmask in there. He had a custom thigh holster on his right side that carried his revolver and a new-fangled Jet Injector designed to administer drugs quickly and effectively through clothes. If anyone had watched closely they would notice Stephen is left-hand dominant. His locker also had the keys to the Field Research helicopter. He was ready quickly. He'd had plenty of chances to perfect this get-up and gear up. Alas he still took his sweet time counting out his rounds: just too make sure he was in the middle of the crowd headed for the hangar.

̸/̸̅̅ ̆̅ ̅̅ ̅̅𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝚃⌖ 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴̸/̸̅̅ ̆̅ ̅̅ ̅̅

The Vet Mk.2

Two punks thought they could skip without paying for treatment. Now Joe needs to go out and uphold his reputation, lest the street thugs start thinking they can use him as a doormat.

Joseph 'Joe' McGabhann | 58 | 5'9 | Male
Business: Joe McGabhann is the owner and head physician at the Waggy Tails Emergency Veterinary clinic. He has multiple employees that manage the legal side of the business. He makes plenty of money off of the vet business. On paper, he's doing most of the managerial work. In reality, his assistant manager Becca runs the business. Joe is present to operate the illicit side of the emergency clinic. Any criminal worth their salt knows that Joe is the guy to go to in order to get a bullet hole stitched up without any questions asked. He's been doing this for a decade now. He is required to prioritise the criminals working for big bosses. The Irish come first, and then the Italians, and then the rabble. He refuses to treat blacks, Hispanics, or known jews unless they can pull the right strings with Joe's higher ups. There are plenty of nights when he'll have five grown men waiting about the back alley with bullet holes, and no animals in the waiting room. Despite their shady dealings, the clinic is still popular among various well-to-do pet owners of Minninoona.
Savvy: Aside from his obvious medical skill, Joe knows his way around a handgun. On the rare occasion he meets up with his buddies, they usually go to the range and shoot the shit. He has a couple pieces he prizes, and a couple pieces he wields. He can legally concealed carry. He also bakes a mean pineapple upside down cake. He drives.
Ruin: Joe grew up in a happy family. He was lucky enough that his dad didn't hit him or his mother; despite the fact that Joe's dad was a Union Teamster. The man was involved in a lot of shady dealings that Joe was never privy to. He excelled in school, mostly because of his mother's encouragement and the relatively positive environment he was raised in. He loved animals, so he decided to become a vet.
Any robber worth their salt knows to visit a vet if they want a bullet hole patched up without questions asked. During his first year of practice some thug named Curt paid him a visit. After pressuring him with his iron, Joe reluctantly agreed to patch her up. He learnt to carry a strap after that. Pretty quickly, word got out within the underworld that the city had a new fixer vet that wouldn't snitch. Joe was unsure about getting involved in the life, but he appreciated the money so he didn't protest too much. After a few years he had enough money to buy out the clinic. He moved himself up and out of regular treatment and began too focus on his new specialisation. By the time he was ready to wrap up the operation he was informed that he was too useful to the syndicates for him too retire from the life. He was locked in now.
Sometime after he bought the place out, the war broke out. He would've been a bad fit for the draft. But Joe's particular skills made him desirable to some bigheads in the army. They fast-tracked him through bootcamp by calling him a PQO or something (he wouldn't have survived bootcamp otherwise, he was already into his 40s). After that, they flew him out to the jungle where he spent nearly half a decade operating on the few thousand attack dogs they had there. It was a pretty cushy position compared to most of the fellas that got stuck in the jungle. But he still saw some nasty shit. Mostly mangled dog remains, but that still sticks with a man.
Cred:
"The doc patches up a bullet hole real good."
"He ain't talkin', we know where he lives. He's got two cute kids."
"I heard he keeps a .38 in his desk. Just pay him dawg, it's not worth it. Especially if you're already beat up."
"No Reg, he can't retire. Who else will fix our boys up after they take a slug? His mouth is sealed shut. Go and have a chat with him. Make sure we're on the same page."
"Don't go in the front door bleeding, the bitch at reception will just tell you to go to hospital. You gotta knock on the back door and know the magic words."
"I swear I saw the doc hanging out with that fairy faggot. You think he's a sick fuck or too dense to know that the chick has a dick?"
Ilk:
Family Man: He realised too late how easy it was to track down his loved ones. Two kids, the oldest is in college. And his wife. It's rare to find someone with the expertise that is willing to turn a blind eye to whatever underhanded wounds they might have. If Joe tries to leave, him and his family are in mortal danger. On occasion, he's had some close calls with his clever wife looking into some of his underhanded dealings. But so far, she doesn't really know what he gets up to.
A Harmless Vice: Over the years Joe has sampled the medication. He's gotten a taste for escaping from reality with substances when he has the chance. He'll do ketamine if he doesn't have anything else, but Cocaine is his favourite. He also has a soft spot for whores of all varieties.

@TokyoPewPew
I haven't posted this to the character tab because: I tried the template you provided by I'm just not savvy enough to edit it without fucking it up royally. How important is the formatting to you? I've also made some minor changes (his name and his presence in 'nam). I'd welcome advice, criticism, or help. I don't possess the fortitude to spend hours wrestling with forum code. Yikes!

̸/̸̅̅ ̆̅ ̅̅ ̅̅𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝚃⌖ 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴̸/̸̅̅ ̆̅ ̅̅ ̅̅

you couldn't have timed it better TPP. currently cleaning up the CS. the vet will be up soon :)

Austin Is Dead

Sorry I've been beaten to a pulp over school and irl work, I'll try to get this collab goin soon <3

@LanaStorm

it must be something in the air. i've been between a rock and a hard place myself and everyone else i speak to is having a mad one as well