Alright, well, I'll be working on an opening for the collab. Expect a PM later today.
Leidenschaft Member
Relax, only half-dead
- Last Seen: 4 days ago
- Old Guild Username: OlNoSoul
- Joined: 13 yrs ago
- Posts: 1992 (0.44 / day)
- VMs: 2
-
Username history
- Leidenschaft 13 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
In
The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
@KingfisherI'm editing my post to be more in-line with the original I wrote. Thanks for the confirmation, Dear Leader.
Edited my post so Stitches isn't writing Abigail doing nothing and Biscuits' post isn't "And then Brooks followed Redding..."
Redding was still clutching the coach gun hard, he could've sworn that grenade was the end of Redding. But Brooks tossed it right back over, turning back to him, “We stay squatting back here any longer and we're done for!”
Redding swallowed, “You think I don't fucking know that?” He raised his voice over the screams and bullets. It was stating the obvious, and right now, talk of being done for was not helping him think. He breathed, this wasn't his first gunfight. The Vault-Girl asked about backdoors and that only put him in mind of how stupid the architect was that built this place. Anyone wanted to leave and not use the front door ought to just jump...out...a window...
He reckoned they could do just that, get some distance between- A gout of flame came so close overhead he could feel it drying up his eyes. He gritted his teeth, adrenaline helping him throw out his fear for anger, of which there was an endless pit of it in his younger years. He thought he'd leave the life of a thug behind and become a businessman. How stupid was he? “I've made better people than you disappear, Teresa!” He yelled, “Worse too!”
His mind was scrambling, they needed to get out from behind this counter but he didn't want to get crisped down to the bone. If only he had a grenade. Or... He scrambled over David's corpse, pushing it out of the way by the shoulders, “Lucky bastard got off easy...” He grumbled. Behind the counter were his rags, and there was the now-rare intact bottles on the shelf behind him. He snatched two down by the neck, stuffing the rags inside just enough. With his lighter, he set the rags aflame. “I'm going to throw these, you two're going to start shooting at that crazy bitch down there with the flamethrower.”
He didn't wait for them to voice their agreement or their complaints, just tossed the bottles as hard as he could, not caring where they landed. He just needed a distraction, and a distraction was what he got. He heard one of the mercenaries stumble from behind his overturned table, his left side in flames when he peeked out. Redding dashed from behind the bar while Big and Vault-Girl fired their guns over the counter, firing his own handgun along the way, and managing to catch the man on fire in the chest and neck, dropping him. He'd made it across the mile-wide room, breathing hard and near shitting himself. He turned to run down the hallway and a stabbing pain brought his thoughts to a unanimous halt. He reached down to his side and his hand came back red. He groaned, slumping against the wall somewhat and turning his head towards footsteps.
They were not Big and Vault-Girl, unless they'd turned into raiders in the space between the bar and him. Funny thing, adrenaline, makes everything slow enough to notice stupid details. One of them had a boil on his face, a nasty thing, while his friend had no eyebrows and replaced them with an assortment of piercings. He raised the coach gun and emptied a barrel into Boil's face, obliterating his head, but before he could do the same to No-Brow, the raider had his gun up. Redding ducked out of the way without thinking and a line of bullet holes stippled the wall next to him, the last bullet ripping a hole in his shoulder. Redding could feel it, and he yelled. Redding's coach gun boomed and No-Brow caught the buckshot in his neck and chest, stumbling back with a choking gurgle and landing on his back. Redding threw the empty coach gun spinning stock over barrel into the head of the raider just coming around the corner. He caught two of Redding's nine-millimeters in his chest and stumbled to the side, falling to the ground.
Teresa rounded the corner and that was probably the most fear he'd felt at the sight of a woman. Then again, that gangly bitch barely qualified as one. “Bye, Redding.”
Before she could bring her flamethrower to bare, Redding sent himself at her, yelling at the top of his lungs. He slammed into her, picking her up as he ran and slamming her back against a wall. She reeled back with her head and cracked Redding's nose, sending a brilliant burst of light across his vision. He heard the throaty rasp of her machete leaving its sheath, “I said bye, Redding.”
“Fuck you, Teresa.” Redding brought his gun up but before he could squeeze the trigger the Fiend sent herself hurling at him with a shrill scream, swinging for his head but he ducked back. He went to kick her knee and break it, but she pulled her leg back. Redding fell backwards and swore, then he felt the biggest hands he'd ever felt take up two handfuls of his jacket and then he was flying. A pool table broke his fall and he sat slumping against it, trying in vain to drag in a breath. He looked up and caught eyes with Little, cradling a revolver. Between the terror in her eyes and the thumps of Sid's footsteps, he knew he'd be the death of this girl. He would've said sorry. But there weren't enough sorrys in the world to save her.
The moment was cut short when thick fingers snaked through Redding's hair and pulled him back before slamming his face into the stained green felt. Redding managed to grasp up a pool ball as he fell to his side on the ground. Sid grabbed him by the collar and he could feel hot breath on his face as he hauled him up to get eye-to-eye, his feet dangling above the ground, even being six foot. “I told you if we met again I'd open you right up and feed you what was inside.”
Redding was running out of fuck you's. He didn't get a chance to use the ball as Sid's big, stupid, thick skull of his smacked against his face twice. Again, he was made weightless and he crashed into a shelf, getting to all fours next to Little behind the pool table.
Redding swallowed, “You think I don't fucking know that?” He raised his voice over the screams and bullets. It was stating the obvious, and right now, talk of being done for was not helping him think. He breathed, this wasn't his first gunfight. The Vault-Girl asked about backdoors and that only put him in mind of how stupid the architect was that built this place. Anyone wanted to leave and not use the front door ought to just jump...out...a window...
He reckoned they could do just that, get some distance between- A gout of flame came so close overhead he could feel it drying up his eyes. He gritted his teeth, adrenaline helping him throw out his fear for anger, of which there was an endless pit of it in his younger years. He thought he'd leave the life of a thug behind and become a businessman. How stupid was he? “I've made better people than you disappear, Teresa!” He yelled, “Worse too!”
His mind was scrambling, they needed to get out from behind this counter but he didn't want to get crisped down to the bone. If only he had a grenade. Or... He scrambled over David's corpse, pushing it out of the way by the shoulders, “Lucky bastard got off easy...” He grumbled. Behind the counter were his rags, and there was the now-rare intact bottles on the shelf behind him. He snatched two down by the neck, stuffing the rags inside just enough. With his lighter, he set the rags aflame. “I'm going to throw these, you two're going to start shooting at that crazy bitch down there with the flamethrower.”
He didn't wait for them to voice their agreement or their complaints, just tossed the bottles as hard as he could, not caring where they landed. He just needed a distraction, and a distraction was what he got. He heard one of the mercenaries stumble from behind his overturned table, his left side in flames when he peeked out. Redding dashed from behind the bar while Big and Vault-Girl fired their guns over the counter, firing his own handgun along the way, and managing to catch the man on fire in the chest and neck, dropping him. He'd made it across the mile-wide room, breathing hard and near shitting himself. He turned to run down the hallway and a stabbing pain brought his thoughts to a unanimous halt. He reached down to his side and his hand came back red. He groaned, slumping against the wall somewhat and turning his head towards footsteps.
They were not Big and Vault-Girl, unless they'd turned into raiders in the space between the bar and him. Funny thing, adrenaline, makes everything slow enough to notice stupid details. One of them had a boil on his face, a nasty thing, while his friend had no eyebrows and replaced them with an assortment of piercings. He raised the coach gun and emptied a barrel into Boil's face, obliterating his head, but before he could do the same to No-Brow, the raider had his gun up. Redding ducked out of the way without thinking and a line of bullet holes stippled the wall next to him, the last bullet ripping a hole in his shoulder. Redding could feel it, and he yelled. Redding's coach gun boomed and No-Brow caught the buckshot in his neck and chest, stumbling back with a choking gurgle and landing on his back. Redding threw the empty coach gun spinning stock over barrel into the head of the raider just coming around the corner. He caught two of Redding's nine-millimeters in his chest and stumbled to the side, falling to the ground.
Teresa rounded the corner and that was probably the most fear he'd felt at the sight of a woman. Then again, that gangly bitch barely qualified as one. “Bye, Redding.”
Before she could bring her flamethrower to bare, Redding sent himself at her, yelling at the top of his lungs. He slammed into her, picking her up as he ran and slamming her back against a wall. She reeled back with her head and cracked Redding's nose, sending a brilliant burst of light across his vision. He heard the throaty rasp of her machete leaving its sheath, “I said bye, Redding.”
“Fuck you, Teresa.” Redding brought his gun up but before he could squeeze the trigger the Fiend sent herself hurling at him with a shrill scream, swinging for his head but he ducked back. He went to kick her knee and break it, but she pulled her leg back. Redding fell backwards and swore, then he felt the biggest hands he'd ever felt take up two handfuls of his jacket and then he was flying. A pool table broke his fall and he sat slumping against it, trying in vain to drag in a breath. He looked up and caught eyes with Little, cradling a revolver. Between the terror in her eyes and the thumps of Sid's footsteps, he knew he'd be the death of this girl. He would've said sorry. But there weren't enough sorrys in the world to save her.
The moment was cut short when thick fingers snaked through Redding's hair and pulled him back before slamming his face into the stained green felt. Redding managed to grasp up a pool ball as he fell to his side on the ground. Sid grabbed him by the collar and he could feel hot breath on his face as he hauled him up to get eye-to-eye, his feet dangling above the ground, even being six foot. “I told you if we met again I'd open you right up and feed you what was inside.”
Redding was running out of fuck you's. He didn't get a chance to use the ball as Sid's big, stupid, thick skull of his smacked against his face twice. Again, he was made weightless and he crashed into a shelf, getting to all fours next to Little behind the pool table.
In
The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
@Peik@POOHEAD189 Planning on Daelin setting up firing positions for him and Dax while Jorwen and Marcel go down there and get real personal with the magi. That is if Dax doesn't want to help Jorwen while Marcel does something sneaky. Up for a collab to get them all into position and initiate the fight.
@Kingfisher So, my post has come to a head and Teresa closed the distance with Redding. Now, her and Sid are beating the shit out of him, and Abigail is his only hope if Brooks and Anneliese don't get there. I figure I'm handling the fight well, but you did say you'd collab with people if you really wanted GM input on the fight. Would this be one of those cases or could I post it? I could PM you the fight scene.
Nevermind, just gonna post. Don't wanna muddy the waters.
Nevermind, just gonna post. Don't wanna muddy the waters.
<Snipped quote by Leidenschaft>
Cool idea, I did the same.
Noice. And we do this in my other game with currency, even though bottlecaps are lighter than gold coins, do try to limit the amount kept on your person. Dallen has 1k caps, list where they're kept, whether they're stashed or in Alejandro's backpack. Regardless, 1k of anything is a lot to carry. Something to consider is to split that amount up between what's on Dallen's person and what's stashed. Unless Alejandro's pack is pretty damn big.
I'm no GM in this game, so that's all just something to consider if you like the added roleplay of consumable items/currency and belongings sections.
<Snipped quote by Leidenschaft>
Ha, cool. Should be quite the bloodbath either way in that case.
Aye, I was going to suggest that Joel know one or two of the other characters since those who move in similar circles in New Reno would of definitely have heard of him. With Redding and Joel arriving (back in Joel’s case) in town around the same time he might have even been one of the first people Joel worked for since he was just starting to build his reputation around that time. They may have even helped each other build those reps and have a quite long business relationship, maybe even a friendship. They seem like they would get along. Up to you though. :)
Thanks! Generation Kill is an amazing show. To be expected from the same people who made The Wire. I’m going to rewatch it sometime, been wanting to for a while.
I'm down for having them know each other's faces from working in the same circles. There was a time that Redding was a hired gun and relied on that as his sole means of income, so they've probably roughed up some people and made a few people disappear together. I wouldn't expect Redding to have gotten so attached as to have formed anything above a professional respect for the man, knowing all too well that someday down the road he'd maybe have to put a bullet in Joel. That time obviously hasn't come, nor does he want it to. He knows Joel would be a bad choice of an enemy, even for a man like himself.
PS, updated CS with information on Redding's business ventures that made him the man he is today.
Funniest outcome will probably be if Joel arrives and the place has been blown to pieces or burned to nothing with corpses laying here there and everywhere. If not he gets to spray and pray. xD
Also included a phone in my post since the wikia says New Reno has them, but if that's not part of our lore I can change it.
Well, David the Bartender is dead, at least one bystander was killed, two mercenaries got Redding'd and there's bound to be some dead mercs from Brooks' jazz hands making the play of the game and tossing the mercs' own grenades back at them. Redding's been an established pimp, pusher and gun-for-hire in New Reno for about the same time the Lazzaris came to power, so he'll have heard of Heartless Teresa and her Fiends. As well as Joel and his handiwork. It would make sense if Joel and Redding at least knew each other by reputation.
Speaking of Fiends, Redding's personal mission is killing as many of them as he can before burning Oliver Fedorov alive. Anyone who wants to hold hands and be there to sing campfire songs with Redding is welcome to tag along. Still gotta find some motivation for Redding to want to follow Dallen on his quest to free the Pagans in that camp. Maybe Redding's banking on bringing the Pagans into owing him some favors so he has someone backing him in his personal quest to kill everyone with the last name Fedorov.
Nice character portrait for Joel, btw. Generation Kill is one of my favorite shows, and Ray Person was one of my favorite characters.
Pots legal in las Vegas! Whoo! Dallen will be celebrating this in my next post.
I've been way ahead of you here in Washington, my friend. Honestly, I got bored of marijuana long before it was legalized for recreational use.
Also, damn, Dallen should've gagged the guy and kept him there for later. And that grenade up Freddy's ass might come in handy at the Desperado if you guys find a reason to go there.
© 2007-2026