POOHEAD189

Star Wars: Western Frontier

I might join...hmmm

Dark Streets

Since I am somewhat pressed for time, (and I did not get a chance to try him last game) I will be resubmitting Caber, though I reread him and added some edits! Hopefully he is good enough to be accepted :)

Celtic Fae

Name: Caber (his favored name)

Character Concept: Gancanagh (Celtic Fae)

Trouble: Wanted by the Fae court for absconding from a royal marriage to the river daughter. That, and for stealing a glorious jewel from the Sidhe. Also wanted for various petty crimes (thieving and the like) in his human guise, though mostly in Europe. Why limit yourself?

Scene: A clear stream cascading down a rocky decline as the birds sing from above, and the sky opens to reveal a midsummer sun, revealing a vast sea of green, the highlands peaking out as waves. That was all Delilah could conjure in her mind to describe the melody played by the dashing stranger's flute. Once he was done, he opened his eyes and twirled the instrument within his nimble fingers, and the flute was gone as if it had never been. A sleight of hand, surely. "What's your name?" She asked, her pupils enlarged. He took her hand in his, looking positively smug.
The pub residents had all halted their conversations to pay attention to the flute playing, but once he was finished, the conversations rushed back in like a crashing wave of water. Caber took a drink from the generous pint he'd ordered. "Ah, a loaded question, some might say." he said, almost sounding bored. Perhaps not a loaded question to some, but Caber had been known by many names, and had seen many things change in his lifetime. The land he had been born had been called Gaul, by the Romans, and that turned into Gaullia, into Francia, and then France.
"Caber, they call me." He said. "And yours?"
She told him almost too quickly, her eyes caressing his jawline and the waves of his hair, only to follow his hand as he lifted up his mug once more. He was so young! Yet she was utterly attracted. "I love your music," she continued, her finger now idly twirling her hair.
"Can you believe some believed me a God for how I played the flute?"
She took it as a mere boast, giggling at what she perceived as an attempt at humor. He laughed with her as his mind wandered back into that ancient past, when he had ran wild and plagued the forests of old Gaul and Germania, until Caesar and his legions with swords of blasted iron came. The blasted Roman had gotten what he'd deserved at the senate, if only Caber could have been there to see him fall. Caber recalled the consular pursuing him even across the English channel into the British Isles. But ever northward had he traveled, and he found centuries of fun with the picts and the celts of Ireland. That is, until the Norse arrived, quaking with war and seeking vengeance with the power of their Gods of Asgard, using swords of dreaded steel.
With an effort, Caber calmed himself. He had done much better these days with keeping his faerie side from taking over, and once he opened his pools of blue, he found he should enjoy the catch he had made tonight. He drew in closer for a kiss.
"Hey, pal."
A rough voice tried to tear his attention away from the lass, but Caber had decided he would like to continue gazing at her for a moment. The voice spoke again.
"Hey, that's my woman there." The voice held a warning in it.
"Is it?" Caber asked aloud, unconcerned or simply unaware of the danger the interloper promised to present. "You are a lucky man. Tonight, I think she will be mine, however."
A rough, Nordic arm shoved Caber back and knocked over the wine he had been drinking, spilling the delectable contents across the table and shattering the serene mood the fae had placed himself in. Caber turned to the burly man, and the debonair young man suddenly looked feral, his teeth bared and the hair, no fur of his arms on end. What's more, his eyes blazed with the color of burning bronze. The lights began to dim slowly, and with the swiftness of the turning winds, Caber left his chair and had grabbed the man by his shirt collar, the youth's muscles firm like oak. "Do you think your Gods will save you from me?" the fae squealed in devilish delight. With an almost treeish certainly, he shoved the hairy Nord back into the next table, causing it to collapse. No sooner had the man hit the ground did Caber look as he had been, collected and as calm as can be.
The woman Delilah looked confused and torn, as if she needed to be told what to do next like a lost child. Caber smoothed his still-combed hair and cleared his throat, regaining his senses. "Two thousand and eighteen," he breathed, an indecipherable whisper to himself. A moment later, he turned back to Delilah. "My dear, it was lovely to speak to you. But alas, our time has come to an end. Had we met when I was a young one, you would be a Gwragedd Annwn." He clapped thrice, and the lights flickered once more. Those bar patrons that had not been too engrossed in their drink or still eyeing the prone body of the jealous boyfriend, would see the image of a goat-like thing in their retina before the lights turned back on, and the youth was gone.
The fae, now floating out in the nightsky back to his calling stone within the PHI HQ, realized he should speak of none of this to Morgan, or she would bind him to the station itself. That would be utterly dreadful!

Dark Streets

@Rabidporcupine Half Demon like Tiefling or Half Demon like Merlin?

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread

@Fabricant451 That sucks hard.

Dark Streets

I'm brainstorming on if I should be my Celtic trickster or just go full on human detective.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Under the moon, their opponents seemed even more ghastly and horrific had they been concealed by the night or illuminated by the sun. Horns and baleful eyes glowed and their crude iron weapons faintly glinted. Cyrdic caught a look within their ranks and saw a Norscan that was more Crab than man, having absconded with normal weaponry and waving his pincers menacingly. They were surrounded, though Sigmar gave a small blessing and made the enemy party so huge they could not all see what was stopping their progress down the walls.

Cyrdic's blade met a Norscan's shortsword in a loud ring of steel. The Ostlander kicked at the barbarian's shin and buckled his opponent. The Norscan lost his head before he let go of his blade, his neck spurting blood. Cyrdic shoved the body aside and swung wildly, taking an Ungor's snout off and finding purchase into a north man's chest. He felt rough hands grabbing him from behind and a snorting grunt. Tearing away from the grip with a jerk, he lowered himself and grabbed the long knife in his boot, stabbing backwards and eviscerating a beastman. Cyrdic found his way back to Camilla, covered in blood and coughing. Quick inspection of his aching shoulder showed him that he'd been cut there without realizing it.

Camilla's sword whipped about and stabbed like a striking serpent, her long hair hastily tied to keep from obscuring her vision. Cyrdic ducked an Axe that was meant for him, and luckily Camilla was too short for it to hit, and it swung past without finding a target. Needless to say, Cyrdic's blade did not miss. Camilla's dance of death was suddenly halted when Cyrdic scooped her up by the waist and made a leap, making it to the stairway that led down into the City. He did not go down further however, planting Camilla next to him.

"You need to go and get help." He told her, sword out and ready for when the Chaos raider's pursued.

Camilla looked at him as if she would stab him next. "You tink I would LEAVE YOU AGAIN!?" she screeched, hitting Cyrdic with her fist. Cyrdic caught her next fist and pulled her close. "It's not because you're a woman! YOU'RE FASTER THAN ME!" he roared, and the genuine look in his eyes spoke volumes. He was simply being pragmatic. Cyrdic had found the stairwell to get the enemy in a bottleneck, keeping them from being able to fight more than two at a time.

"Go!"
@Penny

The All-Dawi Party - A Warhammer Fantasy Adventure

No worries, we can update it once more to get us all going if necessary @Gunther

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Ok everyone. I will do my best to post tomorrow. If that is not possible, you'll get a post early next week! I am going on a family trip this weekend, F.Y.I.

Dark Streets

Fantasy? Survival? Danger?

Count me in.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

"Sayeeda!" Neil exclaimed as she faded into unconsciousness once more, shaking her as hard as he dared. He closed his eyes and sighed when she wouldn't move. At least she was alive. He tried to get Taya on the Comms again, but all there was, was static. He tried patching in to Lonney, though predictably that led nowhere either. He had no idea what to do. And he wondered why he cared, other than basic altruism. He'd had to escape tricky situations before, and he'd helped those he could and those he couldn't well...he couldn't. But he'd been through too much of this shit with these girls to give up now.

"That and you got a goddamn teenage crush on this chick." He muttered, not knowing if he was being brutally honest with himself about Sayeeda or just goading himself to running.

He'd stay.

"Why are you two still here?" Neil asked Sven and Saxon. "Having second thoughts on the treasure? I can keep your share if you're afraid of rampant greed."

Neither of them were the joking type, and Neil did not receive any banter back, or even disapproving looks like he would elsewhere. Sven seemed too busy with a portable device of his, made of old metal he had no doubt scrapped from items on and offworld. Saxon was reaching into his utility belt, pulling out a small vial and uncorking it. A small hiss escaped the bottle, and he approached Neil. "I still wish for your death. But this place wishes the same for me, and you will not move until this woman is helped. Give her this." He said.

The pilot looked at the container. Of course there would be no label. "What will this do?"

"Minor healing liquid. You would not be able to pronounce its name, but it will relieve pain and relax the muscles for swifter healing." he rumbled, shoving it into Neil's hands so hard it would have been considered a punch to anyone save a Hexanagallion. Neil grunted, coughed, and patted the Alien's forearm before heading over to the Captain and pulling her head back slightly. "Alright, you'll need to swallow a bit. Just..."

After two tries, he managed to get most of the liquid down her throat, and tossed the bottle back to Saxon. He caught it in a jerking motion, like a monitor lizard would jerk its head when tearing apart prey. Suddenly to the side, Sven's device beeped aloud. He unhooked the plug that Neil suddenly realized had been inserted into Sven's temple, hidden behind his long hair. The man cleared his throat, and spoke in his gravely, emotionless voice. "There is a shipping yard not too far from here, 12 miles to the southeast. There is a beacon tower within."

"We can contact my ship?" Neil asked.

"Or steal one there. Yes." Sven replied. "We should remain together until we are offworld. We are still being hunted."

"GodDAMN I love your bedside manner, let's get to it!" Neil exclaimed, hopping into the mech.
@Penny