POOHEAD189

Blood Debt (Medieval/Fantasy, Rangers)

@NarilKiera is awesome btw. Just looked at her^^.

The Fall of Lordaeron [Warcraft RP]

@RisenDeadIndeed we do, my friend

40K: The Holy Ordos

consider me in

Boots on the Ground - A Sci Fi Military RP

Is it safe to assume there is room for another?

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

Oh he wouldn't care. But I might switch to a different vehicle OOC anyway. Still, thank you! Will switch him over after work.

Edit: by that I mean, he'd park a bit away and would prefer to stand in case he needed to quickly move himself.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

Ok, done. Should be everything. I switch the driving out for pick pocketing. High speed chase in one thing but transporter shit I can live without I guess

Joseph Cooper

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Joseph Cooper

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Character Summary

Name: Joseph Cooper
Aliases: Tank
Age: 27
Birthday: June 11th, 1989
Ethnicity: Cajun (with Latin or NA ancestry. Isn't sure himself)
Birth Place: Jacksonville, Florida
Apartment Number:3B
Gender: M
Major/Minor:N/A
Occupation: Detective
Languages: English, Russian

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Appearance

Height: 6 feet
Weight: 170 pounds
Build: Lean
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Dark Brown
Skin Tone: Tanned
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings:Deep scar on his lower abdomen from a knife fight. Bullet wound on his shoulder from when a jealous girlfriend shot him.
Personal Style: Baggy pants, button up shirt, dark green jacket when it's cold out. Marel shoes.

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Psychology

Confident * Irresponsible * Charming * Roguish

Sexuality: Straight
Relationship Status: Yeah right
Personality: Joseph's mind is meticulous and sharp. He often takes his time to observe his surroundings, despite quickly scanning a surrounding area to be second nature to him by now. He has a mind that works like a criminal, and to be honest he is proud of it. He still has some class though, enjoying Jazz music, fine food, and smooth talking. This guy will talk you into putting a second mortgage on your house so he can borrow some cash.

Behind his smooth and cool exterior is a very troubled man. He gets very anxious around peaceful people, preferring to mess with them than have them be content. He has nightmares of fights and shootings, which is odd to him because he almost welcomes them when he is awake. Probably because he doesn't feel in control in his dreams. Life often doesn't bother him, no matter what happens. It's his mind in the dark hours of the night that hurts. He's not heartless, but he's out for himself, and he won't take being played with.

Habits: Leaning on walls. Playing with a toothpick in his mouth. Will toss a ball around when he is bored.
Hobbies: Scoping out places, for gang activities or women.
Fears:

• Becoming an addict like his mom
• Being caught for the murder of his partner
• Knocking a woman up

Likes: 6 minimal

• Kicking ass
• Flirting
• TV
• Driving
• Good food
• Cool music
• Sci Fi, Action, and Gang series/movies/books/games
• Tossing baseball/tennis balls when bored.

Dislikes: 6 minimal

• Drug addicts
• Douchebags
• People in Authority
• Pop music (some can be catchy, not that he'd admit it.)
• Romance
• Littering

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Cards On The Table

General World Skills:

• Investigatory/Police skills
• Negotiation
• Pick Pocketing
• City Knowledge
• Breaking and entering

Combat Skills:

• Wing Chun (took age 18-20)
• Jeet Kune Do (took age 20-22)
• Krav Maga (was recommended for detective training)
• Good shot with a pistol
• Edged Weapons

What Is On Your Person:

• Rolex Watch
• Box of toothpicks
• M 1911 Handgun
• One clip of rounds extra
• Switchblade
• Wallet with 127 dollars cash
• Current Clothing [button down shirt, baggy pants, marel shoes]

Apartment:
This is your stash basically -

• 4 clips of M1911 ammo.
• 5,000 dollars cash.
• 2009 Asus desktop, Windows 7.
• Pump Action Shot gun (45 rounds)
• Journal (records on the city, and his fellow apartment mates)
• 3 bottles of bourbon
• 1 Gallon of Gasoline
• Books (Current Issues and Enduring Questions, Codebreaker, I am Legend, so forth)
• Xbox 360
• Movies/Games (Fight Club, The Departed, Independence Day, Prey, Mass Effect, Mortal Kombat)
• Harley Davidson

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History

What Brings You To The City: After his partner's death, he needed to leave Baton Rouge. He wasn't going to leave the country. Fuck that. But he needed far away, and a place that was hot. He did his research, and Cali fit the bill perfectly. The Retro feel of the hotel fit him more than fine. His precinct allowed it and bam, here he was.

Life Before You Moved In: Joseph never met his father. His mom was knocked up when she was 15 years old, and needless to say took up drinking pretty quickly. Whether it was before or after he was born, he never got a clear answer. His Aunt was a bit older than his mom, and both women took turns raising him. They moved to Baton Rouge, LA when he was 5. By the time he was 15, he was known as a delinquent with a mean streak, prone to fighting before and after school, if he even attended.

Oddly enough, he never got into the whole drug scene. Sure he sold some weed and coke here and there, but he never tried it himself. He wasn't about to end up like his mom. Jospeh prefers toothpicks in his mouth instead of cigarettes. He started drinking hard liquor when he was 17, but always had a handle on it. He made sure with that shit. Before long he knew he wasn't fit for college, even if his mom could afford it, which was impossible.

So he decided to join the police force. It only needed a highschool diploma and a few months of training. But he decided to make detective, to the surprise of himself and others, actually excelling at it. Seems he had a mind to catch criminals, seeing as he was one every now and again. He made detective by 23, and stayed with the same partner until he was 27. His partner died under mysterious circumstances, and he asked to be transferred due to grief.

Life Since You Moved In: Jospeh hasn't been here very long. Only a few weeks, and for the most part he's spent it scoping out the town layout instead of hanging out at the apartment. He often gets back late at night, big feet stomping up the stairs before he makes it to his room. But now he thinks it's time to settle in a bit, meet the neighbors.

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Extras

Character Quote: Take it easy, it's not like I'm gonna shoot you or something.
Theme Song: This would usually play when he walks up. But he has a varied history of moods.
Dirty Little Secret:Was forced to kill his friend and partner when Joseph found out he was working with the Mafia.
Anything Else:

From my Warcraft RP

As the young maid ran into the alleyway to be confronted by the Ghoul, her brother clutching her skirts, she suddenly screamed in terror. An explosion of fire wreathed the alleyway in flame, and the maid uncovered her eyes to see the ghoul scorched and dead. Behind its smoldering remains was a dashing young man with his palm out, in darkly colored robes she would think befit a noble. In truth they were his standard Dalaran robes, and they had seen better days. So had the young man.

Nathoric grimaced from the heat, and wiped the dirt and sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. "Abominations" he breathed in disgust, and pointed towards the door at their left. "Get inside, quickly!" he ordered her. She didn't need to be asked twice, even lifting her younger brother up and lugging him inside. As they passed him, he could see more clearly towards the mouth of the alley, and the ghouls streaming across the town, ravaging the last remnants of the footmen. Just my luck. I left the cooking pot and fell into the fire. I'll never make to Andorhall at this rate. Still, there was something about this town that tugged at his mage sight. Something elusive... If he lived he'd investigate further.

He began preparing his most devastating spells as he moved forward toward the fray, ready to burst out of the alley with fire and frost and arcane magic. In truth he wasn't that powerful of a mage, even if his magical repertoire and power had increased significantly from surviving through the destruction of the Capital city and its outer lying villages. When he had traveled earlier, he'd only met small packs of Ghouls either licking their wounds or in the midst of combat with ragged humans. The force he saw streaming past him was a wave of enemies unlike any he'd yet seen. Still, he had survived so far.

The screams of the dying was still mingled with the yells of combat, though they were now much much quieter. Was only one man still alive? No, two men. A younger man and an older, more boisterous fellow. Not about to ask questions, he stepped out into the wider streets. Arcane first, he ordered himself. Purple tendrils of energy arced out of his fingers and struck ghoul after ghoul, knocking down and damaging more than killing them, though 5 lay dead to his satisfaction. Dammit, not enough. He quickly slammed his palms together in a clap, yelling out an arcane word of power in unison. Another explosion of fire rolled over the damaged Ghouls in a wave, and he didn't stick around to fight the rest of the horde, making his way over to the two men and the... quite attractive woman. Where had she come from? He sensed something about her he could not quite put his finger on.

"Well met." he said, and realized just how tired he was from his magic and travels when even speaking out of combat made him want to fall over and catch his breath. "Is there a position we can defend ourselves in or is this it?"

_{*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy.}

The Lord of the Rings

Thurin Stoutarm

The sturdy Dwarf acknowledged the incoming town of Angfort with a nod, satisfied this must be the place. His pony and he seemed road weary, but strong. Their encampment in the fortunate cave gave them both a renewed vigor, and it was only a few days before they made it to this odd town of men. He let out a long breath through his beard, and stomped down into the town proper. His cloak, beard, and beast were covered in dirt and snow, but as usual, another short rest and they'd be fine to go yet again.

These people had seen better days, he noted. Or perhaps, they had not. Perhaps it was always this dreary here. "I've seen more cheer in a graveyard." he muttered, striding with a purpose toward the town center. He had his pendant out and ready, uncaring whether friend or foe saw it. He was of Durin's folk, and was not afraid of knives in the dark. The only thing that could quake Thurin was perhaps the shadow and flame he had seen glimpses of in Moria.

He spat on the ground when he saw the company he'd be in for. A Halfling, which wasn't a bad deal. He'd met the infamous Biblo Baggins briefly many many years ago. Learned a song or two from him. If all of his folk shared his quality, he wouldn't mind. Twas the two Elves that had him spittin'. He wouldn't judge them unfairly off the bat, but it was an involuntary reaction. He should have known they'd be here, seeing as there was Elvish script in the letter. The last was two men. One lanky, looking akin to a local. The other a hard man Thurin would watch carefully. "So, who here called me to this northern bastion and why should I stick around? If there is a quest, I'd have the one who called me to heed my question."

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

@Lady Amaltheaedited!

Conspiracy-Closed

Red Strike (Ro'Kun)

Ro'Kun watched Shiver and Enyo go. "See ya..." he said, watching them go. Omega walked in as Ro'Kun was collecting all his food, and he grabbed the popcorn like his dude bro friend said and carried it along with the rest of the food into the lounge. He plopped down with his friends and decided to chow down. Tropic thunder popped on. Nice. "COVER ME YA LIMP DICK FUCK UP" he said, imitating RDJ's incredible acting performance at the offset of the film.

@FunnyGuy

Blood Debt (Medieval/Fantasy, Rangers)

Beren held the arms of the wagon as he moved, corded muscles keeping it upright as his powerful legs took one step after another. His dark and thick, unkempt hair shielded his dark chocolate eyes from the rays of the sun. His bare chest had a small sheen of sweat on it, shining sun upon his skin. The women and children in the wagon talked among themselves and looked around the forest uneasily. The ranger monk was inexorable as a mountain as he carried them to the town he knew so well from his youth.

Normally he was reserved, but cheerful and warm to those whom he would help. Now though, Brands death weighed heavily upon him. It hadn't quite hit him yet, but he knew that once he was there in the Nightwood...in the glade Brand called home, he would feel it in his heart. For now, he would do what he did best. What he knew Brand did best. Helping those in need. These villagers behind him he had discovered in hiding, fearfully crouching among the piled rubble. A bandit raid had pillaged the village, and Beren promised to protect them, leading them to the closest town. He had found a wagon and decided to pull them along that way, to get them off their feet. They'd been through enough.

It was dusk when they made it through the front gates. Not that there was any wall framing it. It was more for show, but it heralded home. He let the wagon down at the center square, and gave the people 9 gold coins, leaving him 3 left to enjoy himself. He'd find work somehow, he knew. If he didn't give up his coins to them now, he would have transported them to the town to have them live on the streets. It wasn't right. He bid them farewell, grabbed his equipment and weapons, and donned his shirt of course before making his way into the Scuffed Boots.

A warm smile grew on his face as he strode in, recognizing Grey and Ashira, looking so much like how he had remembered them. He decided he'd head over and greet them both after he found a seat. He was eager for the hugging, despite his usual stoicism. You couldn't help but get a warm feeling when seeing family after so long...



@NickTrano@Naril@Gunther@R31GN@AirBender@HeySeuss@NickTrano