Sigil

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Ears on the bushes or not, Keystone had food that would likely burn while they waited for Ash to chase down his rabbit/intruder. The searing smoke, birthed of carbonized flesh and yams, would definitely carry farther then a properly cooked chub of forcemeat. It was very nearly done anyway, ambient heat would see it through just perfectly.

He quickly set the pans of hot food on the rocks around the fire and waited a few seconds for the light sizzle to quiet. Intently, the Pugilist focused his attention to the direction in which Kyra, Lob, and Ash headed.

Keystone risked a glance over to the group comprised of Persephone, Sundos, Sona, and Cremwise, and spoke aloud, "Cremmy, you'd be wise to climb into my double-hammock under the wagon 'till we sort this, right?" He locked eyes with Persephone for a half-second and nodded. Returned his attentions to the woods, he flexed his hands until he heard the individual phalanges pop in sequence, and assumed a balanced fighter's stance. Without weapons or visible armor, his physicality and fierceness of gaze marked him as the last person the average stray Orc may want to engage.

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

So long as the last bit of the fight doesn't contain the words "Rectum" and/or "Chainsaw", I think we'll be ok.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

Yeah, but he looks like Danny Trejo. Counts for a lot.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Charnobylisk

Dick may go through a character shift, change of heart, whatever, if he makes it to Newnan. Or run screaming. The ethic makeup is diverse as hell, and judging from the people in positions of authority, it's practically a matriarchy. Woman in charge of security, another agriculture, another just overall in charge.

Maybe we should actually do a breakdown of the stats based on ethnicity. But that's another discussion. Eh.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Charnobylisk

Ok, fixed.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

Ok, ladies and gents: Caesar Gonzalez is up.

Please give it a read, then let's work on relationships. <insert evil laugh here>

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

Caesar Gonzalez

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Caesar Gonzalez

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Character Summary

Name: Caesar Hannibal Gonzalez
Aliases: Machete, Federale, El Jefe, Papi
Age: 65
Birthday: May 16, 1944
Ethnicity: Mexicano
Birth Place: Monterrey, Chihuahua, Mexico
Location: Chattanooga, TN
Gender: Male. Quite.
Major/Minor: None/None
Occupation: Owner/Operator: Machete Security Solutions, Former Federale Commandant, retired 1975
Languages: English, Spanish (both fluent)

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Appearance

Height: 5'6"
Weight: 165
Build: Intimidating, Venerable
Eyes: Hazel
Hair: Black, long
Skin Tone: Worn Leather
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Yes.

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Psychology

Driven * Volatile * Protective * Intimidating

Sexuality: Hypermasculine
Relationship Status: Assumed Widower
Personality: Caesar is a frightening man, the likes of which should only be allowed around polite folk in dire emergencies. If he's anywhere in public, the shit has officially hit the fan and it's best to duck and cover before you get any on you. Or through you. Or ripped out of you. Did I mention that he's a very frightening man?

He does have a soft side, or more accurately, a less hard side - he is loyal, protective, and actually a good, decent man. His "Boondock Santos" mentality drives him to "destroy that which is evil, so that which is good may flourish". Another bit; he has a daughter. Caesar simultaneously is overprotective and fully confident in her ability to kick much ass and take many names.

Machete is obsessively driven to complete any task of worth to which he sets himself, particularly if it involves tequila or gratuitous violence. He is the confident alpha-male who strolls through life, scarred and tattooed, accumulating horrifying stories of bloodshed and turmoil while carving more and more notches into his proverbial bedpost. This may explain why he is attracted to twisted women.

Caesar Gonzalez, if I have not mentioned previously, is a very frightening man.

Habits: Growling, Staring
Hobbies: Honing his collection of sharp things, and Fùtbol.
Fears:

• Losing his daughter
• Being weak
• Running out of alcohol

Likes: 6 minimal

• Fùtbol
• Sharp Things
• Booze
• Fighting
• Motorcycles
• Bird Watching

Dislikes:

• Lazy Folk
• Bigots
• Drug Dealers
• People Fucking With His Hair
• Men Flirting With His Daughter
• Down Time

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Cards On The Table

Pre Outbreak Skills:

• Making Sharp Things Go Through Soft Things That Scream & Bleed
• Shooting Smaller Than Really Big Guns
• Seek The Guilty
• Make Someone Stop Living With Your Fist
• Cause Hellish Agony

Post Outbreak Skills:

• Sneak
• Eat Anything
• First Aid
• Birds of the Continental Americas
• Tracking

Current Supplies:

• Snakeskin boots, Worn BDU pants (woodland print), Smiley boxers, Leather biker vest, Studded leather bracers, Large black bandanna
• Machete
• Machete
• Knife
• Backup Knife
• H&K USP .45 (12 round capacity)
• Extra Clip .45
• Double Barrelled Sawed Off (pistol grip, swivel hip holster)
• Bandoleer, 50 round capacity
• 38 Shotgun Shells
• Satellite Phone

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History

Your First Walker Encounter:

Caesar's first encounter with a Walker took place in the Meat & Seafood section of a local Publix supermarket. The poor bastard had slipped into the great beyond back in the cold room (where all the storage and butchering takes place), reanimating just in time to crash through the window separating the cutting floor and market proper. Caesar looked with morbid curiosity as the walking corpse tore into a helpless, coupon clipping lady while she weighed the heavy, timeless decision of "Ground Beef or Ground Chuck", blood and snot dripping from its face all the while.

Deciding that it was very probably okay to fall back to his older habits of improvised, gratuitous carnage, the ever-vigilant badass known to many as "Machete" rose to this new challenge and dispatched the white coated formerly living meat clerk by means of two flesh stripped t-bones, utilized as punch daggers. It took a good few attempts, driving sharp bone into lungs, kidneys, ripping out the thing's throat, before a more direct, cranial approach was attempted.

Now, driving bone through bone, while a fun endeavor for the weekend, was hardly the sort of etiquette commonly associated with your average Publix consumer. A direct puncture to the skull would be difficult, likely ineffective. So, as a gentleman of refinery might, he deftly slammed each of his bone-stabbys into the eye sockets of the Walker, twisting them about for a good few seconds so as to increase the total frontal lobe damage exponentially. When the grey matter milkshake dripped fluidly from its new faceholes, Caesar let the poor bastard drop, this time fully dead.

He cursed the situation; they told him not to bring his blade into the supermarket anymore. Very sad.

History Before Outbreak:

Much of Caesar's history has been redacted, owing to the classified nature of his work. What is known about him, in fact and unconfirmed rumor, can be summed up thusly:

Ceasar Hannibal "Machete" Gonzalez began his career as an officer of the Policia Judicial Federal. He racked up a hell of a reputation, ascending the ranks quickly because of his brutal but effective methodology in dealing with people deemed untouchable or above the law. Eventually, he became a Commandant, training many under him to work as an intimidating, result producing unit.

This continued for quite some time, until he was approached by a cartel. Caesar refused to be bribed off like so many other Federale Agents and Commanders. Instead, he went to war. (Insert blood, blood, more blood, carnage, betrayal, drugs, money, yet more blood, betrayal, lots of explosions, and multiple limb removal, etc.)

The year was 1975 when Caesar retired from the Mexican Federal Police. In his opinion, it was too corrupted by the drug cartels to be useful to its people anymore, a hypocritical organization feeding upon itself. Instead, he emigrated to the United States to work with the DEA (and occasionally FBI/CIA), taking on jobs they deemed too dangerous to send in one of their own, or to have plausible deniability of their involvement. These people, though assholes in their own right, seemed to actually be interested in doing harm to the cartels. And it sated his desire for violence. He remained a part-time government asset, based out of San Antonio, Texas.

In this time, he married a Senorita Maria Santiago, and in 1978 they had a baby girl, Alicia. Very shortly thereafter, he liquidated his holdings and founded Machete Security Solutions, a private security firm made up of former military, law enforcement, retired Federal agents, and the like. Machete even trained a cadre of his own men from scratch, including his little Alicia, to act as his go-to people. They took contracts in many global hotspots, took jobs with corporate security, bodyguarding, and the like, including some unofficial and grey market contracts with various government agencies.

Machete spread his badassery worldfuckingwide.

He moved his family and his business away from the desert and into the foothills of Appalachia; Chattanooga, TN. The proper infrastructure was in place, land was relatively cheap, not too close and not too far away from first-strike targets if the shit really hit the fan. He put his girl into college, despite much bitching from her end. Business ran well, clandestine and above board. He even sought professional help for his mindnumbing anger issues; his therapist recommended taking up bird watching as a means to channel his more aggressive energies into something more relaxing. Shortly after, he took his own life. The official coroner's report listed cause of death as: "Lobotomy via Garden Weasel, Self Inflicted".

Caesar kept the books, and actually got around to watching birds.

History Since Outbreak:

Since the epic clusterfuck that was The Outbreak, Caesar hasn't changed much. The shackles of civilized life fell away, bringing him back to a purer, more natural state of being. For him, anyway. He had always noted the difference between the Law and the Right Thing, invariably striving to do the Right Thing. Now that the Law had fallen away, he was freer.

Caesar let his staff go to handle whatever personal or family business they needed to, now that the world was ending. Using a satellite phone, he contacted as many of his assets around the world as he could and told them to do whatever they needed to for survival (and to hell with the company, just stay alive and take of their people).

The same phone kept him in touch with his wife and daughter. His wife, Maria, was still in San Antonio, TX, his daughter Alicia on assignment in Jacksonville, FL. After some discussion, Alicia decided to return to Chattanooga to be with her father. Caesar held the fort until she arrived.

The last he heard of his dear Maria was over that very phone. It was a scream, followed by a loud crash. Her fate remains unknown, but highly suspected.

Reunited with his daughter, the two decided that sitting on their collective asses wasn't for them. The pair hit the road to see what they could see. In the back of their mind, they knew they would eventually have to go to San Antonio. The same part of their mind, waaaay in back, knows that their family matriarch is gone. She wasn't like her husband and daughter. Not the same kind of survivor.

Not far outside of Chattanooga, the pair hooked up with Leann, Vivian, Ash, and company. Caesar and Alicia had been roaming in and around the city, dealing with people, dealing with Walkers, just surviving. The idea of being with a group appealed to Caesar - extra protection for his daughter and the chance to do more than just survive. He stayed with them into and around Atlanta, and helped them build the Newnan Community.

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Extras

Character Quote:
"Machete improvises..."
"You just fucked with the wrong Mexican."
"You know what? I'll do it. Just tell me how badly you want him beaten."

Theme Song:
How Many Walkers Have You Killed: It doesn't matter how many Walkers I've killed. I killed as many as it took for them not to kill me. Or because I was bored. Or I liked their shoes.
How Many People Have You Killed: It doesn't matter how many People I've killed. I killed as many as it took for them not to kill me. Or because I was bored. Or I liked their shoes.
Why: It's complicated. The simple explanation: They were all bad men.
Anything Else:

roleplayerguild.com/posts/3214659

_{*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.}

Relationships

Caesar Gonzalez

"Machete improvises..."

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⚜ Respects || ☯ Neutral || ☮ Friends || ♫ Best Friends || ♥ Crush || ⚤ Significant Other || § Tense || ☠ Enemies

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⚜LEANNE MCCORMICK⚜

"Somebody's got to be in charge. It's not my business as long as me and mine are safe. Leann is a good leader. She's given us a place to stay and a reason for staying."

Despite his experience, Caesar doesn't want to be in charge. He knows that the ones who are in charge here aren't corrupt, lazy, or total assholes, and is fine taking a backseat (but never a knee) to Leann. She's giving his daughter a chance at a life.

⚜ASHTON HOLLOWAY⚜

"No one's good enough for M'hija. No one. It's her choice though, not mine. He's a good man, hard worker. Treats people fair. Still isn't good enough."

Caesar would never tell Ash this, but he thinks the Captain's an okay guy. Nonetheless, there is the matter of Ash and his daughter.

☮VIVIAN ORMEROD☮

"She's a twisted lady. Good with her hands."

It's not love, but they are involved, kinda. Both are seen as generally offputting but damned talented, both are a little ...off... It's purely physical. Well, mostly.

☯MEGHNA KUMAR☯

"Little girl has a lot of work to do before she's ready for this world. Hopefully M'hija can help her out with that."

Meg and his daughter associate with one another quite a bit, both inside and outside of the walls. Caesar understands the need for Alicia to have friends, and tries to be less of himself around her, oftentimes backfiring.

☯MAXINE CROSS☯

"Tapes people together, passes out Asprin. She's got a lot to learn, but it's good having another Medico around."

Their conversations, as with most of Newnan, is kept to a minimum. He doesn't do the "getting to know you" bit all that much. He respects the work that Maxine does, and leaves it at that.

☯SIDDHARTH KUMAR☯

"One less guy hitting on M'Hija."

They really don't talk, Sidd and Caesar. They have nothing to say and zero common ground. But he's part of the community, and Caesar is about this community.

☯JAMES GRADY☯

"Yeah. Funny guy. I hope the funny guy doesn't get everyone killed."

In truth, he appreciates James' humor. And what he brings to the table with his skill set. He is a little wary of James being, well, James when they're outside of the walls. So far, he has been the consummate professional. In time, Caesar may even come to like the man.

☯MARIA SMITH☯

"Little girl turns dirt and animals into food. She's ok."

These two don't know each other very well, and socially speaking, Caesar isn't the type to make the first move to get to know anybody. They coexist without incident, so far.

⚜ ♫ALICIA GONZALEZ♫ ⚜

"That's M'hija. There's no one in this world I trust more. She's my little girl, and there's not a thing I wouldn't do for her. Or to anyone that wronged her."

Alicia is Caesar's daughter, in blood and spirit both. His temper, his drive, his single-mindedness that sees him through the worst crap imaginable. He will burn the world for her, but still has lessons to teach.

CAESAR GONZALEZ

"Don't let the reputation fool you. I'm much worse."

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Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

The Character tab is to the right of the OOC tab. Descriptions of what is allowed are in the original post of this OOC. As to what PCs are active presently, that'd be just my character at the present - a Fighter, Pugilist Kit. He has the budding abilities of an Earth Cleric.

Mostly, it's all open.

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

Always looking to broaden the roster. I believe I speak for our benevolent GM when I invite you to fill out a CS for review here in the OOC.

CS can be found in the original OOC post.

Titans of Gotham [Spots Available!]

Years from now, looking back over his career as a Luchador and exponent of Batman, El Sasquatcho would make a note of this moment. Yes, the greying (but very powerful) masked Warrior of Justice, wielding a traditional pen in his massive, shaggy hand, sat to scribe his memoirs. A graceful hand, writing in flowing Español, detailed the events of the day.

While not the most unusual thing that had happened to him in his lifetime, it was indeed noteworthy when a young lady he'd just met disappeared into a hand mirror and re-emerged from his left eyeball. He shuddered reflexively; while maintaining a cool and collected exterior during the actual event, the memory of its first occurrence was a little traumatic. He grew accustomed to the technique of instant travel via reflective surfaces - any reflective surface, no matter how personally invasive, but that first time was uniquely disturbing.

From his study, the elder Luchador gazed out into the yard, his little grandsasquatchos (who had yet to acquire their own identities, and wore family masks in the interim) playing games involving flying off of turnbuckles and suplexing each other off of a trampoline. Yes, one day they would be mighty, as were their parents and grandparents. Dama Muerte had blessed them, or so it was written, for the actions of their progenitor and his steadfast dedication to his family and their ideals.

The venerable Lucha Livre wrestler rose from his chair and breathed the prideful sigh of an accomplished family man. His hair, now worn in a preternaturally thick, grey braid, emerged from the back of his full coverage sugar skull mask and swung loosely at his waist. If anything, El Sasquatcho looked bulkier; stronger, more defined - as if age improved him like wine instead of turning him to vinegar. He recalled, if but for another moment, his youthful days with the Titans. Decisions made, feelings processed, friends made and lost.

Rosto de la Muerte, had he really been that green?

El Sasquatcho shook off the thought. Of course he was; they all were. Time and experience made better warriors of them all, those that survived and stuck with it. Training and willingness to keep each other alive. Trial by combat against deadly adversaries that kids like them never should have been thrown at. They really weren't ready back then. Not at first. Their training should have started much earlier, and since that time the world had become a much more dangerous place.

With precisely this in mind, the mighty El Sasquatcho, Sangre de los Santos, Patriarch of his Line and Leaguesman of Stature turned and walked out to play with the youngest generation of upcoming Familia Delacruz Luchadors.

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PRESENT DAY:

"Umm... madame?" began El Sasquatcho in a calm, respectful tone, "That was muy impressive, the eyeball jumping thing. If you would be kind enough to excuse El Sasquatcho, El Sasquatcho needs to go into the bathroom and get all of his Heebies and Jeebies out before he blows burritos across the hotel. Pardon, mi amiga."

With as much dignity as he could muster, the burly, hairy, masked man retreated to the suite's lavatory. While one could not see the involuntary shudder of revulsion, they could clearly hear the exclamation of "Yeck!" from behind the door. He returned shortly thereafter to meet the rest of his team.