Because the Bane breaking the back image is always so amusing. Ah, well Prost got to that part before me.
And aight Bee.
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Because the Bane breaking the back image is always so amusing. Ah, well Prost got to that part before me.
And aight Bee.
Earnest Evans said
The OTHER people who want to play Fate? When you guys join, you're squatting on perfectly good Servant and Master spots. Your gluttony for Fate/Stay RP is starving others.
Agreed.
Aight. Will make sure to notify if I think of any more magics for the dude, (if I come up with it and feel like adding it anyway.) Or something like that.
Name: Girard Palomer
Age: 46
Appearance: Girard is a sharp dressed man, wearing a decent three piece navy blue suit, with black dress shoes. He stands at 5'5", has a shaved head, and a dark brown beard. Other than a large wart on his nose, he looks completely unremarkable, looking like an average individual, (below average in terms of appearance.) Occasionally he wears a black trench-coat over his suit, usually when it is cold outside, and a neon blue scarf. He however, almost wears a pair of black cloth gloves, or more commonly plastic gloves, almost all the time. (As to not contaminate evidence of the crime scene.)
Bio: Girard Palomer was born to a modest family in the city of Lyon, to a businessman and his housewife. He was the middle brother, with an older sister, and a younger brother. He had a passing interest in wizards and their stories in his youth, but his real passion, was mysteries. He found puzzles to be truly engaging, and more entertaining than any other game, and he wanted to become a detective when he grew up. Of course, living in Lyon, the Headquarters of Interpol, he knew what he wanted to do. So he did what he needed to do, and found himself lucky to be an agent of Interpol. But, as an advising agency, he found himself stuck to the desk most of the time, occasionally going out to other cities to help other cops out and thwarting terrorists. But there he met his future wife, Erika, a German Agent of Interpol. He settled down with her and started his family, where he has five children, three girls, two boys, with her. Girard eventually resigned from Interpol, (where his Wife still works), to instead work in the Parisian Police Force proper, where he can solve mysteries, instead of being a desk agent. Through his service in the past to Interpol, and his dedication and sharp mind for solving mysteries, he worked his way up to Detective, (though he has received offers to become a Forensic Investigator instead of a general detective.) where he currently lives and works at. Currently Girard is looking for an individual wanted for a triple homicide.
Skills and Abilities:
- Sleuthing Detective: As an Interpol Agent, he knows his way around sleuthing for information, and has contacts in places, shady and some not so shady, where he gathers information on.
- Shooting: He can shoot fire arms, at a subpar/decent level. He isn't great, and tends to miss if under pressure.
- Office Drone: As he was usually an office-based Agent of Interpol, he is a master of the Office Environment, knowing all the courtesies, where to file and stow away papers, and complies to code.
Magic:
Stake Out Mark: After drawing a small mark on a building surface, he can see and hear what goes on in that building, within his mind. The mark, once made is invisible to the naked eye, but clear as day to anyone who can sense magic, who can see the mark itself.
Other: He always wears a wire and carries his Parisian Detective Badge on his person, alongside other typical things, such as his car-keys, wallet, and cellphone.
Age: 46
Appearance: Girard is a sharp dressed man, wearing a decent three piece navy blue suit, with black dress shoes. He stands at 5'5", has a shaved head, and a dark brown beard. Other than a large wart on his nose, he looks completely unremarkable, looking like an average individual, (below average in terms of appearance.) Occasionally he wears a black trench-coat over his suit, usually when it is cold outside, and a neon blue scarf. He however, almost wears a pair of black cloth gloves, or more commonly plastic gloves, almost all the time. (As to not contaminate evidence of the crime scene.)
Bio: Girard Palomer was born to a modest family in the city of Lyon, to a businessman and his housewife. He was the middle brother, with an older sister, and a younger brother. He had a passing interest in wizards and their stories in his youth, but his real passion, was mysteries. He found puzzles to be truly engaging, and more entertaining than any other game, and he wanted to become a detective when he grew up. Of course, living in Lyon, the Headquarters of Interpol, he knew what he wanted to do. So he did what he needed to do, and found himself lucky to be an agent of Interpol. But, as an advising agency, he found himself stuck to the desk most of the time, occasionally going out to other cities to help other cops out and thwarting terrorists. But there he met his future wife, Erika, a German Agent of Interpol. He settled down with her and started his family, where he has five children, three girls, two boys, with her. Girard eventually resigned from Interpol, (where his Wife still works), to instead work in the Parisian Police Force proper, where he can solve mysteries, instead of being a desk agent. Through his service in the past to Interpol, and his dedication and sharp mind for solving mysteries, he worked his way up to Detective, (though he has received offers to become a Forensic Investigator instead of a general detective.) where he currently lives and works at. Currently Girard is looking for an individual wanted for a triple homicide.
Skills and Abilities:
- Sleuthing Detective: As an Interpol Agent, he knows his way around sleuthing for information, and has contacts in places, shady and some not so shady, where he gathers information on.
- Shooting: He can shoot fire arms, at a subpar/decent level. He isn't great, and tends to miss if under pressure.
- Office Drone: As he was usually an office-based Agent of Interpol, he is a master of the Office Environment, knowing all the courtesies, where to file and stow away papers, and complies to code.
Magic:
Stake Out Mark: After drawing a small mark on a building surface, he can see and hear what goes on in that building, within his mind. The mark, once made is invisible to the naked eye, but clear as day to anyone who can sense magic, who can see the mark itself.
Other: He always wears a wire and carries his Parisian Detective Badge on his person, alongside other typical things, such as his car-keys, wallet, and cellphone.
"Pardner. Didn't ya listen? My babies Apache and Cherokee are divine." Rattlesnake Jack said again, making sure the city slicker understood that point. "And horses don't need no, o-kuh-reeno, whater'in tarnations that is to tame it." He said as his spurs continued jangling as he headed forward towards area where the rocket crashed. "Say which way is the Ranch? And, so this Ganindork is some sorta Shaman then? From the desert you say..." Rattlesnake Jack chuckled a bit as he glanced up at the sky.
"I oughta reckon, if'n we find the guy, to talk about the sands and such. Would be awful nice to discuss, bet he misses home."
"I oughta reckon, if'n we find the guy, to talk about the sands and such. Would be awful nice to discuss, bet he misses home."
Rattlesnake Jack promptly ignored Bee as he talked about time skip, and other boring stuff. Then, Bee talked about something entertaining. Rattlesnake Jack cocked his head back, as his eyes twinkled. "Pardner, if'n I heard ya correct, I'm wishin' I did. You said there was Horse Racing? And pardner, ya gotta have a horse." He glanced back forward, "That there fireball coulda also be interestin'. Aaand... if this place is boring, who's this here Gan-on-dorf?" Rattlesnake Jack paused as he remembered what Bee said about a holy weapon.
He began chuckling as he reached towards his guns, "My guns are holier than a Saint's own mother. Anyhow, what kinda horses we talkin' 'bout 'ere Bee? And no other cattle 'longside 'em? So got Horses, mighty fine, seein' what in tarnation was that there ol' fireball in the sky, and beatin' some fool with a weird name. I feel sorry for 'im, mother and father gave him such a piss poor name..."
He began chuckling as he reached towards his guns, "My guns are holier than a Saint's own mother. Anyhow, what kinda horses we talkin' 'bout 'ere Bee? And no other cattle 'longside 'em? So got Horses, mighty fine, seein' what in tarnation was that there ol' fireball in the sky, and beatin' some fool with a weird name. I feel sorry for 'im, mother and father gave him such a piss poor name..."
Jerkchicken said
But fighting is character development
It is a form of character development. One done by the speech of punching other people, and people mutually punching others.
Then there is the other character development done by talking, without punching.
Apparently not. And as such, mook slaughter will have to wait. Or something.
Pretty sure that was mostly due to the Holiday Season.
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