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Sigil Member

Literary Hatchetman

STATUS: Malfunctioning Space Toilet (favorite death post in RPG) : roleplayerguild.com/posts/4… 8 yrs ago
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8 yrs ago
Current Malfunctioning Space Toilet (favorite death post in RPG) : roleplayerguild.com/posts/4…
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10 yrs ago
Example of a "Character Flaw": roleplayerguild.com/posts/32..
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Bio





"Character Flaw"

Keystone's Daydream

Checking for Mental Intrusion

The Power Of Pain Compels You

The Greater Good

Burial & Origin of James Mandingo Grady



Most Recent Posts

In 🩄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed) → 10 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Okay, thanks for letting me in on this one. Relations sheet is finished and posted, such as it is. It was rather easy, considering the fact that this guy doesn't know anyone and is just now boarding the Retribution on Persephone.

This should get interesting really fast. So, who else is jumping on the Alliance ship?
In 🩄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed) → 10 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




In 🩄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed) → 10 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Submitted for your consideration. Looks like you need more people on the Retribution. Kinda.

In 🩄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S. → 10 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Caesar Gonzalez

Location: General Vicinity of Gretchen Mortgage LLC Waterfront Storage


This could be nothing. The sort of ordinary, everyday use of storage space that happens every ordinary day. Stuff goes in, stuff comes out. Occasionally, a lady might need a couple of brutish Russian movers to unstack and load up the important, perilously heavy boxes of perfectly normal things. Ignore sudden spotting of the occasional suspicious death, all taking place in or around a series of buildings owned by the same company and/or person that may or may not have something to gain from people expiring messily. People around his daughter expiring messily. Either of them, adoptive or blood. No, no. Not his girls. Motherfuckers must pay.

...the grizzled Mexican waited for his moment. They hadn't yet seen him, and he would make sure that one of them never would. The nanosecond that all three of them were facing away from him, Caesar struck. The first knife flew, seemingly of its own accord, streaking a frozen rope into the throat of the goon farthest from him. Panicked gurgling issued from the swiftly dying man, his hands clawing at the solid steel impaling his windpipe and jugular simultaneously. Both heads snapped around, all four eyes widening at the unexpected fate of their associate. The involuntary observation gave Caesar the extra moment he needed to sprint quietly behind the pair and drive his remaining knife into the other man's ribcage, puncturing his lung and sending him into a soundless scream. He used the embedded knife's handle as leverage, kicking high and hard at the temple of the woman and sending her into instantaneous naptime. A quick punch to the base of the second man's skull likewise rendered him unconscious, left to bleed to death, mercifully asleep.

He drug the corpses back into the open structure and removed their belts. While not perfect, they were adequate enough to restrain the knocked-out woman. Now that they had some time and privacy, Caesar was going to use every hard and sharp object at his disposal to get some answers - real answers - and soon...

He snapped out of his momentary daydream, quelling the rising feelings of raw aggression before they fully took the driver's seat of his braincase. Lucky for them (and probably him, if we're being honest), he had done a lot of work with his therapist concerning his mind numbing Impulse Control Issues. Before his therapist offed himself in a public bathroom, repeatedly mumbling something about "Mexican Wolverine" coming to steal his soul, anyway. Instead of succumbing to his baser instincts and committing himself to the next few minutes of brutal homicide and Days Of Yore torture, Caesar opted for a more technological, observant route. He was into security and investigation now, not the blind violence that marked the earlier decades of his life.

But dear, sweet, merciful Bacon he wanted to. One day at a time, old man. One day at a time.

Caesar moved to an angle appropriate to his surroundings, allowing vision but maintaining cover, and began collecting video, snapping the occasional silent still photo of everything he could about the scene unfolding near him. He had no idea who these people were, but others might. And he had to get back for that meeting with the forensic technician. No, collect information and go, at least for now. As much information as he could without giving up his position, in any case.

In đŸ§šđŸ»â€â™€ïž The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1 → 10 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
I'm going to weigh in here, because it looks like the situation warrants it:

Niesha actually had no idea if that would happen, it seemed logical given the bodies pysiology, the position of blood vessels and nerves. She was banking on Astrid not knowing that much about the make up of the body, or at least that it made sense to get her hands at least free of the restraints.

(You can find the full post HERE.)

Further, let's take a look at your character's skills, pertinent to the exchange:

  • knowledge of drugs and how to make them
  • basic first aid skills


From the skills actually listed, Astrid has a higher level of medical training than Niesha. (First Aid vs. Basic First Aid)

First Aid is: "Help given to a sick or injured person until full medical treatment is available." I have a background with First Aid, amongst other things. Had to re-cert more recently on account of contracts insisting that someone on scene having papers to that effect. First Aid is a stopgap measure, not a segue into anatomy.

I get that Niesha is supposed to be a medical professional. The skills she has access to, despite insistence to the contrary, are limited to what is listed under the skills section of the CS. In your case, it's pretty cut and dry. She knows about drugs and how to make them, and she knows how to give assistance until qualified medical help arrives, period. Your character's background has her able to do much more, but you do not have it listed under her skills.

When it comes down to it, bottom line, end of day, the big issue here is Rule One: GM is Goddess; GM has final say on all matters. The issue has been resolved, character reactions have occurred. Let's all be like Elsa and Let It Go. Your character didn't exactly make her Charisma check (so to speak) this go around. It has been a month IC since then. If tempers haven't cooled a bit in that time, this may well develop into a situation to be resolved in play.

And simply for my own edification: Your location, in every post header for a while now, has been a "Quite Place". What gives?
In 🩄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed) → 10 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Keystone

Location: Road North of Salarn, Day Three
Interacting With: Kyra, The Group


The broad pugilist kept a wary eye toward the latest of the group's personnel acquisition, even as he accepted the bird from Kyra. After a good, long stare, he gave the bird a hair more consideration. It was a more than fair sized fowl, befitting the season. Must have been a late migrator. Well, the loss of more southern climes was the gain of their unmerry band of mismatched travelers.

"Right jolly lookin' bit o' birdflesh, this. I'll be needin' someplace off the beaten to gut an' dress it."

Though his outward perception was operating with the priority of security, especially now that they were at a standstill in the road, the back of Keystone's mind attempted to work out the best way to prepare the bird. The quickest manner would be to draw and disarticulate the body, and either sear the pieces off in his covered cast-iron pan, or roast over low flame. Either method would require building a fire and letting it burn down for a little while; their stop for lunch would be for at least and hour, maybe two. Perhaps there were little tricks and corner cuts he could do to speed that along, but in the end, heat penetrates flesh in its own time.

As long as the heat was doing what heat does, it may as well be accompanied by a dram or two of decent liquor and a rub of coarse salt and black tea. As long as Keystone had to wait on the fire, he might as well keep his hands busy. Keystone felt just a little giddy at the prospect of cooking, if only for a short time. As a smile crossed his features, one made to look sarcastic and/or devious partially due to his scarring, he gave a mote of gratitude and respect to the hunter.

"Bloody sunshiny job, Kyra. I'll have something proper Goldilocks for us as I'm able." Keystone produced his go-to knife from the back of his belt; a remarkably well crafted, bone handled seax. He prodded the plucked bird, eyes shimmering with something akin to glee. Yeah, today might not be a total loss after all.

In đŸ§šđŸ»â€â™€ïž The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1 → 10 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Caits @Nallore @Sigil @Charnobylisk @jakeb1993 @Morose

Had to make an edit to my last post to account for continuity. My bad. And apparently to specify that Bree did NOT ride her horse into the infirmary.
In đŸ§šđŸ»â€â™€ïž The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1 → 10 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Ashton Holloway


Location: Newnan Inner Wall Streets, Mess Hall


Ashton paused as Zoie's voice came through his radio, loud and clear. As it turns out, he was headed to the Mess anyway to retrieve the fruit that was quickly turning. So fragile a thing, fresh fruit. Very valuable in these times, what Ash considered humanity's second Dark Age. Having it was such an immediate and powerful morale boost, Ash gave some serious thought into how he could acquire a stable source of the stuff. Not just for morale's sake, either. Sustainability was the goal.

What he wouldn't give for a community with which he could trade.

But that was a plan for tomorrow. Today's responsibilities took priority. Just now, those priorities shifted from Backwoods Peach Schnapps to meeting new survivors. Ash thumbed the button on his walkie, addressing both Zoie and Victor. "Understood, Zoie. I'll meet them at Mess; got business there, anyway. I'm sure there's still enough from breakfast for two more people, we'll have plates waiting. Doc! If you want to meet and greet before we head out, you know where we'll be."

A couple of minutes after Newnan's new guests arrive for breakfast, Ash emerged from back storage. "Pleasure to meet you." he began, with just a trace of rural Virginia in his speech. "Captain Ashton Holloway, commanding officer of the Newnan Safe Zone, such as it is. Call me Ash, if you prefer. Welcome to Newnan."

Black James!


Location: Newnan, Inner Wall Main Gate


James got the message loud and clear, too, but his mind immediately shifted to the part of the conversation that most piqued his zone of competence. After Ash's Official Word of the subject, he monopolized his own corner of the airtime, completely unaware he was paraphrasing The Sound of Music: "Doe? A deer? A female deer?" He needed to make an appearance, meet the people, and get that animal processed before the organs spoiled the meat.

Again, he spoke into the walkie, trying to get someone to cover his duties with Livestock while he tended to new business. He knew someone, presently working in Domestic that had worked Agro from time to time. "Ray! If you hear me, come help Kris when you can." He turned to the girl he affectionately referred to as Little Sister, continuing, "Me, I'm gonna be up at the smoker, if'n you need me, 'k? Ain't gonna be too Far. You keep doin' what you're doin'. It'll be aight. So, you an' Guy play nice."

James seemed almost giddy. He had a deer to smoke off, which meant a meal with meat he didn't have to take out of their livestock population. "Well, La Tee Da, gonna cook us up some venison today..." he said, making his way back up to the Inner Wall's main gate at a jog. As he neared the truck, he doffed his broad stetson and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. James looked in the back of the truck to get a look at what he had to work with for the day. "Well, hot damn. That brings us back to Doe."

Bridgette Vinters

Location: Gate at Newnan Inner Wall, Infirmary


"FINE. Brony porn it is." remarked Bridgette. There was no response whatsoever from Bryn's room , from either the inside or the outside. Over the past month, she had gotten to know her new roommate and work partner; Bryn was not the type to shirk responsibility. Either she was dead, or she wasn't around. Now, the brash worker of iron and beater of wholesale ass was pretty sure that a day of light labor and possibly a drink wouldn't have killed the girl. Hell, a face full of buckshot probably wouldn't kill the girl, though it would make her social engagements a little more awkward. Not that Bridgette would mind too horribly much; Phantom of the Opera masks might be quite in vogue this season of the Apocalypse.

Still, she had to get some work done, and would have preferred an experienced hand to assist. She scanned her brain for people skilled in this kind of work, or that (at least) knew their way around tools and could be of some benefit. She thought of Ash, ever the military engineer and the guy that assigned the task in the first place. He could, no problem. Buuuuut, having assigned the job to Bryn and Bridgette, he likely had other shit to do. So who else? Sophia, certainly. Construction Chick, knows her way around a torch and/or patching equipment. Sadly, she had just gotten out of the infirmary, and this would not be the strictest definition of Taking it Easy. Also, still singing the Hand Cut Off Blues.

So, she could do it herself, or she could try to find Bryn. Come the evening hours, she, Bridgette, and Astrid were fairly close knit. Valkyries of Newnan, and parts beyond. If anyone would have an idea as to where she might be, it would be her Sister Valkyrie, Astrid. Who should be at the Infirmary right now, playing ER Bouncer and passing out cotton balls (if memory serves).

Ok, we're doing this. Bridgette spurred Cadence around and to the new interior gate constructed near their house. She waved to Shondra, the lady that tended to stand this post, exclaiming, "Yo, Shondy! I'll show you some nipplage if you crack open the fucking gate. How about it?"

Shondra waved her on, shaking her head and motioning for her to keep her shirt down. The gate opened enough for woman and horse to enter, which Bridgette did without delay. The shieldmaiden chuckled, if but a bit, and kicked Cadence into a trot. Within two minutes, Bridgette had tethered Cadence, was inside the Courthouse (oh God air conditioning yummmm), past the Infirmary doors, and in front of Astrid.

"Hey Sis. Patch job on the Wall, looking for Batgirl. Seen her?"
In 🩄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed) → 10 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Way to go peeps!!! We have hit the 8 month mark for this rp!!


Kinda makes me feel like Riverdancing.

In 🩄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed) → 10 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Keystone

Location: Road North of Salarn, Day Three
Interacting With: Sana, Kyra, The Group


All this jabbering on in some odd, nigh constipated language with which Keystone was unfamiliar. In his present state of linguistic ignorance, it vaguely resembled someone eating a wedge of cheese and having a coughing fit. Much as he wanted to ignore it, the fact remained that he really didn't know any one of these people, except for a passing familiarity with Sana. Unfamiliar people, unfamiliar language.

Pondering the subject honestly, he wasn't all that enthused about Sana at first either. She was bossy, insisted on being in charge constantly. But she was a skilled singer, and did break that guy's nose that suggested she could "work off" her bar tab in a manner that was highly ungentlemanly. She was okay. The point he was trying to make to himself via Internal Council Meeting of One was that, while he should still be wary of some of these wanksplats, some may reveal themselves as really stand-up folks.

But all that Orcy talk. It was a point of distraction, not that he understood more than three words of it, anyway. Keystone was trying to look about for any sign of Orcs on the ambush, listening for anyone speaking in the language in hushed tomes from beyond the treeline (when he wasn't yammering on, himself). Not only that, but he could have sworn they were talking about him - probably Human jokes about carnal relations with sheep. Seemed the kind of thing he would do, given reversed circumstances. Well, he'd show them. Next Inn they checked into, he was going to hang his arse into someone's window and blast some sour into their sweet dreams. Just wait and see...

But back to business. Not too far ahead, Keystone spotted two figured by the side of the road, one of which was Kyra. He motioned for the people behind him to stand ready, even though this didn't seem to be any kind of Orc. As they drew closer, Keystone spoke to Sana in a clear voice, intended to be heard not just by her, but by Kyra and the stranger in front of them, "Oy, read me a story once, 'bout some bint or another skippin' about a road made o' yellow cobblestones. Kept meetin' all sort of unseemlies what could sing n' dance; wound up bein' fast chums, they did." Keystone stopped, not too far away from the pair. Leaning slightly forward and putting his hands behind his back, he directed his next words forward, to the pair. "This ain't that story."

Putting on his best impression of the many City Guardsmen that made his younger years interesting, he inquired with mock authority, "What's All This, Then?"
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