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Realistic or Modern GRIT CS
- Thread starter Axeykins
- Start date
- Created at
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- Threadmarks
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Linked contents
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Statistics (1 threadmarks, 130 words)
User Total Axeykins 1 Threadmarks Reader mode
Character Sheets
Axeykins
Humanoid Typhoon
Seeing as this is a more realistic rp nothing super fantasy like in looks or abilities please. I'm happy for some supernatural abilities and heritage and such though of course, it is the wild west. Strange things happen out in the wastes. I think a great basis is from Trigun, things more of that nature!
It is steampunk as well so I will allow things like body modifications of that nature and obviously styles and weaponry as well!
If you have any questions though on a character you wish to make feel free to ask! I don't bite!(usually)
Name:
Age:
Occupation:
Apperance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
Personality:
Background(optional):
Other:
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FOUR RIDERS CHARACTERS.
DEATH:
Taelonthesands
WAR:
Soviet Panda
FAMINE: Axeykins
PLAGUE/PESTILENCE:
ShotOfDepresso
It is steampunk as well so I will allow things like body modifications of that nature and obviously styles and weaponry as well!
If you have any questions though on a character you wish to make feel free to ask! I don't bite!(usually)
Name:
Age:
Occupation:
Apperance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
Personality:
Background(optional):
Other:
----------
FOUR RIDERS CHARACTERS.
DEATH:
Taelonthesands
WAR:
Soviet Panda
FAMINE: Axeykins
PLAGUE/PESTILENCE:
ShotOfDepresso
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Welwordion
Junior Member
Name: Morgan Grou
Age: 39
Occupation: Piano player at a salon and occasional tribesman
Apperance: Dark hair with some grey in it, weather tough skin haggard face with an moustache, brown eyes average body proportions, large hands,
outfit in town, think piano player: white shirt black trousers and black vest in the wilderness he wears more practical stuff think desert punk without the ridiculous helmet.
Appearance other: has a tribe tattoo on his left upper arm
Personality: collected, calm however with a normally friendly and harmless aura ,he is more of a listener, which does not mean he does not speak out if he has an opinion and if your his friend he will reward you with an occasional smirk though his humour is sometimes a little bit dry( imagine a british person with a more friendly aura), when he gets serious however his presence becomes stronger like an immovable rock and his voice gets cold.
Background(optional):His family originally was poor but his parents trough hard work managed to establish their own saloon, when Morgan was 20 his father died, he had been a late child and his parents had aged alot trough the hardships of their early life. Two years later his mother followed and he became the sole owner of the saloon, which he managed for 6 more years until he fell in love with a girl from, the "tribes", he sold his saloon to an old friend and married the girl.
Morgans happiness lasted 7 more years at which point his wife died due to an illness, from then on he spend most of his time in his old town beeing a piano player for his old friend, though he still has enough money left from when he sold the saloon, other than that he still regulary visit his wifes family and assists some of the yearly trades of the tribe.
Other:Morgan uses throwing knives, normal ones and somewith piano strings attached which he can retrieve, use like a whip or twirl like a sickle and chain combination, he has extremely good hearing not daredevil level but enough to make some throws blindly.
Any further abilities will depend on the power level of other players.
Age: 39
Occupation: Piano player at a salon and occasional tribesman
Apperance: Dark hair with some grey in it, weather tough skin haggard face with an moustache, brown eyes average body proportions, large hands,
outfit in town, think piano player: white shirt black trousers and black vest in the wilderness he wears more practical stuff think desert punk without the ridiculous helmet.
Appearance other: has a tribe tattoo on his left upper arm
Personality: collected, calm however with a normally friendly and harmless aura ,he is more of a listener, which does not mean he does not speak out if he has an opinion and if your his friend he will reward you with an occasional smirk though his humour is sometimes a little bit dry( imagine a british person with a more friendly aura), when he gets serious however his presence becomes stronger like an immovable rock and his voice gets cold.
Background(optional):His family originally was poor but his parents trough hard work managed to establish their own saloon, when Morgan was 20 his father died, he had been a late child and his parents had aged alot trough the hardships of their early life. Two years later his mother followed and he became the sole owner of the saloon, which he managed for 6 more years until he fell in love with a girl from, the "tribes", he sold his saloon to an old friend and married the girl.
Morgans happiness lasted 7 more years at which point his wife died due to an illness, from then on he spend most of his time in his old town beeing a piano player for his old friend, though he still has enough money left from when he sold the saloon, other than that he still regulary visit his wifes family and assists some of the yearly trades of the tribe.
Other:Morgan uses throwing knives, normal ones and somewith piano strings attached which he can retrieve, use like a whip or twirl like a sickle and chain combination, he has extremely good hearing not daredevil level but enough to make some throws blindly.
Any further abilities will depend on the power level of other players.
Axeykins
Humanoid Typhoon
Note!: If I like your CS it means it's accepted!
Axeykins
Humanoid Typhoon
Name: Jonsi Hallæri.
A.k.a: Famine
Age: 25
Occupation: None
Apperance: current:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
Deathly gaunt looking young man. After a shot to the stomach he’s had troubles eating much and keeping it down. Often tossing up most of what he’s eaten not long after and being wracked with abdominal pains and headaches that are near crippling. It has caused him to deteriorate from a bit huskier frame to practically a husk.
Personality:
An often very calm, soft spoken and curious young man. He’s got a good disposition…for the most part. It is, however, ill advised to cross him or irritate him to the point of snapping as he has been known to show sociopathic tendencies. Feeling no remorse for those he kills in raids and shootouts or who happen to piss him off.
Background(optional):
Member or perhaps now former member? of the Four Riders, a group of notorious outlaws that traverse the Waste and wreak havoc on all sorts of folks. Raiding towns and settlements. Committing atrocities that are not only unspeakable but that’ve landed a hefty bounty on their heads. Each one of them.
As of late though, Jonsi entirely avoids questions or affiliation with said group. Possibly to avoid attracting atrention to who he is and the massive bounty on his head. And merely wanders around like he’s lost, and as such , rumors spread like wildfire as to why.
Other:
He claims to have seen the top of Devil’s Spire, during raids he wore/wears a cattle skull. He sports the bones of some of his victims on his attire as a sort of armor and simply for some strange appealing aesthetic to him. His weapons of choice are a rifle with a long range scope and an old revolver he's had for ages.
He’s friends with several tribes on the western side of the mountains, even sporting an eagle feather earring with turquoise beads.
An often very calm, soft spoken and curious young man. He’s got a good disposition…for the most part. It is, however, ill advised to cross him or irritate him to the point of snapping as he has been known to show sociopathic tendencies. Feeling no remorse for those he kills in raids and shootouts or who happen to piss him off.
Background(optional):
Member or perhaps now former member? of the Four Riders, a group of notorious outlaws that traverse the Waste and wreak havoc on all sorts of folks. Raiding towns and settlements. Committing atrocities that are not only unspeakable but that’ve landed a hefty bounty on their heads. Each one of them.
As of late though, Jonsi entirely avoids questions or affiliation with said group. Possibly to avoid attracting atrention to who he is and the massive bounty on his head. And merely wanders around like he’s lost, and as such , rumors spread like wildfire as to why.
Other:
He claims to have seen the top of Devil’s Spire, during raids he wore/wears a cattle skull. He sports the bones of some of his victims on his attire as a sort of armor and simply for some strange appealing aesthetic to him. His weapons of choice are a rifle with a long range scope and an old revolver he's had for ages.
He’s friends with several tribes on the western side of the mountains, even sporting an eagle feather earring with turquoise beads.
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Vagabond Spectre
Seven Thousand Club
Is there a age restriction?
Axeykins
Axeykins
Axeykins
Humanoid Typhoon
I think the best way to answer that is to sat to just keep in mind this rp will have more mature themes when it comes to violence and gore and such matters. Possibly romance as well(although there's the fade to black rule on that one for the physical matters.)Is there a age restriction?
Vagabond Spectre
Seven Thousand Club
Name: Tarlac Truemann
Alias: The Peacemaker
Age: 57
Occupation: Sheriff
Appearance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
Other than his steam powered arm which he lost off clean, during a dangerous shootout back in his younger days. He does have a few minor scratches when it comes on his chest, legs, and arms. All of them caused by bullet shots.
Personality:
A strict looking man with a gentle heart. In the outside he appears to be very serious and blunt but in reality. He is just not used to overreacting, especially for his age. When talking to him casually, one can find that he is actually pretty gentleman like and sounded more wise and mature.
Background(optional):
Not much is known from his past but one thing the public knows is that he travels alone, looking for his son. While doing so. He has stopped multiple bandits in his path. Back then he was a actual town sheriff. As he grew older he decided to give his sheriff days a rest, for he is now married to his wife and has a single son. He retired at the age of 54. His life has been a breeze then until one night. His town was raided, bandits have burned houses and killed everyone inside it. His son was young at the time. He protected his son by fighting these bandits, sadly he lost to them. His wife was killed and his son has been taken away. It was at that moment he wanted to return his old job. Now, he works alone as he embarks on a quest to see his son once again.
Other:
His theme i guess:
Alias: The Peacemaker
Age: 57
Occupation: Sheriff
Appearance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
Other than his steam powered arm which he lost off clean, during a dangerous shootout back in his younger days. He does have a few minor scratches when it comes on his chest, legs, and arms. All of them caused by bullet shots.
Personality:
A strict looking man with a gentle heart. In the outside he appears to be very serious and blunt but in reality. He is just not used to overreacting, especially for his age. When talking to him casually, one can find that he is actually pretty gentleman like and sounded more wise and mature.
Background(optional):
Not much is known from his past but one thing the public knows is that he travels alone, looking for his son. While doing so. He has stopped multiple bandits in his path. Back then he was a actual town sheriff. As he grew older he decided to give his sheriff days a rest, for he is now married to his wife and has a single son. He retired at the age of 54. His life has been a breeze then until one night. His town was raided, bandits have burned houses and killed everyone inside it. His son was young at the time. He protected his son by fighting these bandits, sadly he lost to them. His wife was killed and his son has been taken away. It was at that moment he wanted to return his old job. Now, he works alone as he embarks on a quest to see his son once again.
Other:
His theme i guess:
rubycats
Member
Name: Holly Thresher
Age: 25
Occupation: Rancher
Apperance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
Has a long scar running up her back
Personality: Friendly to almost everyone, though if you push her she will strike. She tries to see the good in everything but sometimes must admit to there just being pure evil in the world.
Background(optional):
Other: She has a good shot with her gun.
Age: 25
Occupation: Rancher
Apperance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
Has a long scar running up her back
Personality: Friendly to almost everyone, though if you push her she will strike. She tries to see the good in everything but sometimes must admit to there just being pure evil in the world.
Background(optional):
Other: She has a good shot with her gun.
JR McCormick
Exile
Name: Erron
Age: 34
Occupation: Mechanic / Inventor
Apperance: 6'2 and built like a blacksmith. Negating the standard image of a would-be scientist, Erron is often accompanied by the acrid stench of cigar smoke and motor oil. A beautiful pairing brought on by his inability to think without smoking and work without thinking. Weathered skin hides beneath a thick dark beard, which in this case adds an air of youth to the middle-aged gear head. Large magnifying goggles adorn his shaggy hair (when they aren't in use of course), and around his waist hangs a loose tool belt. Practicality over fashion, strapped to his thighs, Erron carries a crude axe and a large pistol. It's clear he's either made these himself, or at least tampered with their workings.
Appearance (other): Beneath Erron's beard (and shirt) lives an array of scars and burns caused primarily from a young desire to see how things work - unsuccessfully. You'd think he'd have learnt a valuable lesson when that first engine blew up... but Erron was a persistent youngster, and he carried that trait into adulthood. His right forearm sports the image of a semi-mechanical crustation, placed there to commemorate the first invention that didn't fail. You guessed it... a robot shrimp.
Personality: Quiet and border lining on grumpy, Erron lives in a secluded scrap yard. He's been alone there (save for the dog) since both his parents were killed, though that isn't entirely uncommon in the wastes. Focused on his work, Erron spends days or weeks at a time foraging the surrounding landscapes for bits and pieces that might come in useful - as well trading his own wares for the right price. If you need something - don't hesitate to ask. But don't come to the yard unannounced... it's boobytrapped.
Dalamus Ulom
Orzhov Advokist
Name: Virgil Haynes
Age: 37
Occupation: Pistolero-for-Hire and Bounty Hunter
Apperance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect): Claw Scars across face, arms, and body.
Personality: A purely proffessional man, he often doesn't care one way or the other, as long as he get's payed. Get's a bit touchy when it comes to his rather... Notable scars.
Other: Wields two revolvers, named Elohim and Belial. Belial's grip is ebony, while Elohim's is mother-of-pearl.
Age: 37
Occupation: Pistolero-for-Hire and Bounty Hunter
Apperance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect): Claw Scars across face, arms, and body.
Personality: A purely proffessional man, he often doesn't care one way or the other, as long as he get's payed. Get's a bit touchy when it comes to his rather... Notable scars.
Other: Wields two revolvers, named Elohim and Belial. Belial's grip is ebony, while Elohim's is mother-of-pearl.
Soviet Panda
Red Panda Commanda.
Name: Connor McKinley, "The Devil's Man", "War"
Age: 30
Occupation: Outlaw
Apperance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect): Standing at an unimpressive 5'8", one could easily forget all the bad things this one man has done. Could, but it'd be hard. The hard lines that make up his face have him look like someone hacked at a rock and left the ends jagged. And often unkempt and short facial hair does nothing to soften those edges. The scars that dot his body, mostly from claws or knifes but one or two from bullets, give him an air of danger and immortality. A man that has survived all that must be something a bit more dangerous than the average man. And surprisingly, he does not have any robotic bits to him.
Personality: No one's fuse is as short as Connor's. Almost as soon as you touch a match to it he goes off. And to make matters worse, he's often in a bad mood to begin with. All he needs is an excuse to pull out one of his revolvers and blow the offending party's brains out. He might not even take the time to pull the revolver out and instead beat you to death with whatever is on hand, or lack there of.
Background(optional):
Other: His arsenal is fairly wide, two revolvers, twelve shots before he has to reload them, a lever action rifle, and a sawed off shotgun, allows him to adapt to any gun fight he's thrown into. His horse, Stepper (named for the way he seems to constantly want to prance), has been with him since the beginning, and is one of the few, if not only, thing he cares about.
Theme Song:
Age: 30
Occupation: Outlaw
Apperance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect): Standing at an unimpressive 5'8", one could easily forget all the bad things this one man has done. Could, but it'd be hard. The hard lines that make up his face have him look like someone hacked at a rock and left the ends jagged. And often unkempt and short facial hair does nothing to soften those edges. The scars that dot his body, mostly from claws or knifes but one or two from bullets, give him an air of danger and immortality. A man that has survived all that must be something a bit more dangerous than the average man. And surprisingly, he does not have any robotic bits to him.
Personality: No one's fuse is as short as Connor's. Almost as soon as you touch a match to it he goes off. And to make matters worse, he's often in a bad mood to begin with. All he needs is an excuse to pull out one of his revolvers and blow the offending party's brains out. He might not even take the time to pull the revolver out and instead beat you to death with whatever is on hand, or lack there of.
Background(optional):
Other: His arsenal is fairly wide, two revolvers, twelve shots before he has to reload them, a lever action rifle, and a sawed off shotgun, allows him to adapt to any gun fight he's thrown into. His horse, Stepper (named for the way he seems to constantly want to prance), has been with him since the beginning, and is one of the few, if not only, thing he cares about.
Theme Song:
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Axeykins
Humanoid Typhoon
(I think it's safe to say that we have enough characters at the moment to get a start at least! More can join in of course but we can finally get it kickstarted!)
Safety Hammer
A walking piece of shit in a stupid looking jacket
Name: Tyr O'Connor
Age: 40
Occupation: Ranch Hand/Reformed Criminal
Appearance:
Height: 6'4"
Hair Color: Grey
Eye Color: Blue
Weight: 230 lbs
Scars: Claw mark over his right eye, numerous small ones all over body
Appearance Other:
Personality: Stubborn, Bold, Brash, Kind, Charitable, Near-fearless, Grumpy
Likes:
Age: 40
Occupation: Ranch Hand/Reformed Criminal
Appearance:
Height: 6'4"
Hair Color: Grey
Eye Color: Blue
Weight: 230 lbs
Scars: Claw mark over his right eye, numerous small ones all over body
Appearance Other:
Right Ankle:
Left Ankle:
Right Bicep:
Left Ankle:
Right Bicep:
Personality: Stubborn, Bold, Brash, Kind, Charitable, Near-fearless, Grumpy
Likes:
- Dogs
- Kids
- Fresh fruit
- Hamburgers
- Reading
- "The Law"
- Snakes
- Wannabe outlaws
- Annoying people
- Cooking
- Playing music
- Spending time with Bailey
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FireMaiden
Grade A Bitch
Name: Bailey Powell
Alias: Raven
Age: 35
Occupation: Brothel Owner/Madam
Apperance:
Appearance Other: Bailey has a few scars littered over her body from the various events she's found herself in, and she has a small raven tattoo behind her left ear.
Personality: A spunky, sort of young woman, Bailey is bright and happy with a fair share of sarcastic charm for her friends and those she considers family. Some of that bleeds into her professional life when it comes to the girls under her watch, but what people mostly see is the face she puts on at work. For a lady in a dress, she's pretty intimidating. The face she shows at the bar is a rather stern woman who really doesn't have the time for most of the shit people could put her through. The regulars know to take a step back when a new comer start making trouble. Bailey is very protective of the people who work for her, and even a few of the regulars who are on the younger side. She doesn't tolerate people causing trouble in her saloon, and will kick them out before they break anything. You'll see she works hard, wanting to make ends meet, and as of late, you may notice she hasn't been drinking like she use to. Her softer side tends to show just a bit more, and nobody really knows why.
Background: The Powell family has been living in every small town for the longest time, nobody can right remember when they moved in. Valley and her many siblings spread out here and their juts make up this generation, but you can bet your sweet ass that more are the way. So, born as a the middle child to a god fearing alcoholic and a slightly nutty mother, Bailey has turned out a bit different from the rest of the previous Powells. She was a hard working straight from the day she could do anything, a serious bugger for a little kid. She wasn't scared of her dad, and she wanted to play with the boys rather than the other little girls. Yet when her father passed on, and her mother to unstable to work, Bailey started working at the brothel...saloon...whatever you wanna call it to help with her money issues. It was there, she met her dear friend Tyr. And over the years, she worked her way to where she got the right to the Brothel about 12 years ago. She now owns more in a few other of the town.
Other: Bailey has the inherited abbilty of small object telekinesis.
Alias: Raven
Age: 35
Occupation: Brothel Owner/Madam
Apperance:
Appearance Other: Bailey has a few scars littered over her body from the various events she's found herself in, and she has a small raven tattoo behind her left ear.
Personality: A spunky, sort of young woman, Bailey is bright and happy with a fair share of sarcastic charm for her friends and those she considers family. Some of that bleeds into her professional life when it comes to the girls under her watch, but what people mostly see is the face she puts on at work. For a lady in a dress, she's pretty intimidating. The face she shows at the bar is a rather stern woman who really doesn't have the time for most of the shit people could put her through. The regulars know to take a step back when a new comer start making trouble. Bailey is very protective of the people who work for her, and even a few of the regulars who are on the younger side. She doesn't tolerate people causing trouble in her saloon, and will kick them out before they break anything. You'll see she works hard, wanting to make ends meet, and as of late, you may notice she hasn't been drinking like she use to. Her softer side tends to show just a bit more, and nobody really knows why.
Background: The Powell family has been living in every small town for the longest time, nobody can right remember when they moved in. Valley and her many siblings spread out here and their juts make up this generation, but you can bet your sweet ass that more are the way. So, born as a the middle child to a god fearing alcoholic and a slightly nutty mother, Bailey has turned out a bit different from the rest of the previous Powells. She was a hard working straight from the day she could do anything, a serious bugger for a little kid. She wasn't scared of her dad, and she wanted to play with the boys rather than the other little girls. Yet when her father passed on, and her mother to unstable to work, Bailey started working at the brothel...saloon...whatever you wanna call it to help with her money issues. It was there, she met her dear friend Tyr. And over the years, she worked her way to where she got the right to the Brothel about 12 years ago. She now owns more in a few other of the town.
Other: Bailey has the inherited abbilty of small object telekinesis.
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Nomad_Queen
Insert Resting Bitch Face Here
Name: Mathew Murdock
Age: 43
Occupation: Priest
Appearance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, etc): Mathew has tattoos all over his body stopping at his neck, he has burn scars on his right leg hindering him from running or putting a lot of force on his leg.
Personality: Mathew is viewed by others as a silent caring distant man of God, he knows a lot of the secrets of the townspeople as they come to him for guidance and most people smile and buy him a drink when he shows up he doesn't mind this as all. If need be he will kill to protect his 'flock' and has done it before.
Background: Mathew's family migrated to the town a couple of generations ago, when he was born Mathew took up his grandfathers gun running away from the town to join a gang, he stayed there raiding and pillaging for years until one day he was breaking into a house and found a bible. Mathew sat down reading it and before he knew it the night sky was out and his gang left him behind crying over the damage he did to the town and blatant murder he did he returned home to his family studying the bible eventually he saved up enough money to buy an abanded building that he slowly is still cleaning and converting into a church.
Other:
Axeykins
Age: 43
Occupation: Priest
Appearance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, etc): Mathew has tattoos all over his body stopping at his neck, he has burn scars on his right leg hindering him from running or putting a lot of force on his leg.
Personality: Mathew is viewed by others as a silent caring distant man of God, he knows a lot of the secrets of the townspeople as they come to him for guidance and most people smile and buy him a drink when he shows up he doesn't mind this as all. If need be he will kill to protect his 'flock' and has done it before.
Background: Mathew's family migrated to the town a couple of generations ago, when he was born Mathew took up his grandfathers gun running away from the town to join a gang, he stayed there raiding and pillaging for years until one day he was breaking into a house and found a bible. Mathew sat down reading it and before he knew it the night sky was out and his gang left him behind crying over the damage he did to the town and blatant murder he did he returned home to his family studying the bible eventually he saved up enough money to buy an abanded building that he slowly is still cleaning and converting into a church.
Other:
Axeykins
FTR
One Thousand Club
Name: Mahala Mirga
Age: 23
Occupation: Trading Caravan
Appearance:
Appearance other (what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, etc...): A large scar on her right thigh, a slight limping gait and a tattoo of an antelope skull on the small of her back.
Description: Bubbly and carefree, Mahala isn't one to become involved with conflict and will often take the path of least resistance when things get serious. That is, in all aspects besides bartering and trading. In this respect, her relaxed smile and gentle tone betray her gravitas. The endgame will always be to come out on top. Her otherwise friendly, no shits given attitude will normally do well to run interference for her tendency to be a very goading person. All in good fun, rest assured. And not being one to feign modesty, Mahala can and will drink and gamble with the best of em', getting a kick from risky business in general.
Usually described as easy going, though a bit on the eccentric side, it's really quite hard to make an enemy of her. Normally, the most she'll do is cut you out completely, the eternal cold shoulder. The only surefire way to provoke a truly malicious response from her, short of assault, is to steal from her or break your word. Both of these are treated as capital offenses and will guarantee a bounty placed on you for 3x the value you made off with as well as the ill will of her friends on the other side. A segway into another aspect of her persona. Being molded by a very unorthodox union between native and gypsy cultures, Mahala is really quite spiritual and routinely engages in what some would call sorcery or witchcraft. Mostly harmless blessings, offerings or insight to give her an edge where she needs it. Being business minded, she offers "specialized services" to those who can afford it. Very rarely and under the table of course, it's quite hard work and most already take less than kindly to either branches of her roots, she'd prefer not to make unnecessary enemies.
Background(optional): Mahala was born to a Native woman by an unknown father, at least to her. All she was ever told was that dear old dad was a western man of a rough and tumble nature, having been long gone before she was ever born. At 15 her mother's tribe fell victim to the relentless expansions fueled by manifest destiny. They put up a fight but were eventually forced to succumb. Fearing the worst treatment Mahala's mother begged a traveling group of gypsies to take her with them as they moved further west, away from new civilization and the very sorts of people they had only recently escaped in Romania. They happily obliged offering to give her refuge as well but she denied being unable to leave her friends and family to the fate she'd be running from, many of whom needed tending to after the battle. For another 6 years Mahala lived with these people, learning much from them and eventually coming to see them as a sort of extended family. However, they were much less forward thinking as she thought herself to be, preferring to make ends and not much else. Her times into settlements and townships and the few occasions she'd been taken to the lands in the East she quickly gained a fascination for the prospect of capitalism and the lifestyles of an entrepreneur. The promise of wealth and with it influence, a chance to raise herself out from under everyone else's boot. Feeling and being seen as of age, the girl left, met with some protest, on her own to turn that interest into a business. 2 years have now passed since then and in that time she's made a bit of name for herself. Money, as well as business, has been for the most part plentiful allowing her to branch out into many different markets and be able to pay for most of what she'd be in need of, be it service or commodity, specifically protection.
Other: Her shadow takes on a sentience from time to time.
Age: 23
Occupation: Trading Caravan
Appearance:
Appearance other (what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, etc...): A large scar on her right thigh, a slight limping gait and a tattoo of an antelope skull on the small of her back.
Description: Bubbly and carefree, Mahala isn't one to become involved with conflict and will often take the path of least resistance when things get serious. That is, in all aspects besides bartering and trading. In this respect, her relaxed smile and gentle tone betray her gravitas. The endgame will always be to come out on top. Her otherwise friendly, no shits given attitude will normally do well to run interference for her tendency to be a very goading person. All in good fun, rest assured. And not being one to feign modesty, Mahala can and will drink and gamble with the best of em', getting a kick from risky business in general.
Usually described as easy going, though a bit on the eccentric side, it's really quite hard to make an enemy of her. Normally, the most she'll do is cut you out completely, the eternal cold shoulder. The only surefire way to provoke a truly malicious response from her, short of assault, is to steal from her or break your word. Both of these are treated as capital offenses and will guarantee a bounty placed on you for 3x the value you made off with as well as the ill will of her friends on the other side. A segway into another aspect of her persona. Being molded by a very unorthodox union between native and gypsy cultures, Mahala is really quite spiritual and routinely engages in what some would call sorcery or witchcraft. Mostly harmless blessings, offerings or insight to give her an edge where she needs it. Being business minded, she offers "specialized services" to those who can afford it. Very rarely and under the table of course, it's quite hard work and most already take less than kindly to either branches of her roots, she'd prefer not to make unnecessary enemies.
Background(optional): Mahala was born to a Native woman by an unknown father, at least to her. All she was ever told was that dear old dad was a western man of a rough and tumble nature, having been long gone before she was ever born. At 15 her mother's tribe fell victim to the relentless expansions fueled by manifest destiny. They put up a fight but were eventually forced to succumb. Fearing the worst treatment Mahala's mother begged a traveling group of gypsies to take her with them as they moved further west, away from new civilization and the very sorts of people they had only recently escaped in Romania. They happily obliged offering to give her refuge as well but she denied being unable to leave her friends and family to the fate she'd be running from, many of whom needed tending to after the battle. For another 6 years Mahala lived with these people, learning much from them and eventually coming to see them as a sort of extended family. However, they were much less forward thinking as she thought herself to be, preferring to make ends and not much else. Her times into settlements and townships and the few occasions she'd been taken to the lands in the East she quickly gained a fascination for the prospect of capitalism and the lifestyles of an entrepreneur. The promise of wealth and with it influence, a chance to raise herself out from under everyone else's boot. Feeling and being seen as of age, the girl left, met with some protest, on her own to turn that interest into a business. 2 years have now passed since then and in that time she's made a bit of name for herself. Money, as well as business, has been for the most part plentiful allowing her to branch out into many different markets and be able to pay for most of what she'd be in need of, be it service or commodity, specifically protection.
Other: Her shadow takes on a sentience from time to time.
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Moolock
Elder Member
Name:
Quincy Lane Jain
Aliases/Nicknames:
"Sand Wolf"
"Quin"
"Officer J"
Age:
35
Occupation:
Scavenger, trades parts and shinies for money and supplies. Sometimes
she can swing a gig and be hired to protect individuals, caravans, and the
like. She used to be law enforcement.
Appearance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
Shots: 2 bullet scars to lower right abdomen. 1 bullet scar front and back of
her left shoulder.
Cuts: Long cut extending from left collar bone to three inches down her chest.
Smaller cuts on the backs of both forearms, courtesy of a knife fight.
Tattoos: In small, delicate script an address inked into her left forearm. Back
shows a large Celtic-esque image of a white wolf in a black pine forest. Lastly,
under left armpit area, is a smaller tattoo of a wolf with teeth bared.
Personality:
Gruff and motherly. She's a protector of the weak and tries to see hope so she
has some reason to stay in this decrepit world. She is precise, realizes that there
can be no waste of materials or life and she despises baseless violence. She acts
more than she thinks and acts with finality- if one wrongs her or someone she has
vowed to protect, she will do all within her power to send that person to
their grave.
Background(optional):
Grew up in a large family far from the wastes- out in a small town beside a grove
of pine forest to the north. Quiet, cozy, had a family dog. Was taught by her father
how to shoot, by her mother how to be a lady, and by her siblings how to be tough
and get up when knocked down. Went to school, stayed out of trouble, grew up and
left home to find work that wasn't cutting down trees. Given her refined shooting
abilities and relative cleverness, it wasn't too hard for her to land job with the law
enforcement down on the wastes. It was tough but she earned her keep and she earned
their respect. She stayed away from romance during this time, drifting along like the
sands in a storm. The job dragged on, she got more ruthless against the murderers and
marauders and after an incident where she lost her partner under questionable circumstances,
Quince was forced to take a break. Her position would be waiting for her after she earned
her way back from the suspension. Since that time, she has merely been drifting around,
taking work where she can get it.
Other:
She has a smoking habit and no toleration for disrespect, as well as the aim to back
up the latter.
Quincy Lane Jain
Aliases/Nicknames:
"Sand Wolf"
"Quin"
"Officer J"
Age:
35
Occupation:
Scavenger, trades parts and shinies for money and supplies. Sometimes
she can swing a gig and be hired to protect individuals, caravans, and the
like. She used to be law enforcement.
Appearance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
Shots: 2 bullet scars to lower right abdomen. 1 bullet scar front and back of
her left shoulder.
Cuts: Long cut extending from left collar bone to three inches down her chest.
Smaller cuts on the backs of both forearms, courtesy of a knife fight.
Tattoos: In small, delicate script an address inked into her left forearm. Back
shows a large Celtic-esque image of a white wolf in a black pine forest. Lastly,
under left armpit area, is a smaller tattoo of a wolf with teeth bared.
Personality:
Gruff and motherly. She's a protector of the weak and tries to see hope so she
has some reason to stay in this decrepit world. She is precise, realizes that there
can be no waste of materials or life and she despises baseless violence. She acts
more than she thinks and acts with finality- if one wrongs her or someone she has
vowed to protect, she will do all within her power to send that person to
their grave.
Background(optional):
Grew up in a large family far from the wastes- out in a small town beside a grove
of pine forest to the north. Quiet, cozy, had a family dog. Was taught by her father
how to shoot, by her mother how to be a lady, and by her siblings how to be tough
and get up when knocked down. Went to school, stayed out of trouble, grew up and
left home to find work that wasn't cutting down trees. Given her refined shooting
abilities and relative cleverness, it wasn't too hard for her to land job with the law
enforcement down on the wastes. It was tough but she earned her keep and she earned
their respect. She stayed away from romance during this time, drifting along like the
sands in a storm. The job dragged on, she got more ruthless against the murderers and
marauders and after an incident where she lost her partner under questionable circumstances,
Quince was forced to take a break. Her position would be waiting for her after she earned
her way back from the suspension. Since that time, she has merely been drifting around,
taking work where she can get it.
Other:
She has a smoking habit and no toleration for disrespect, as well as the aim to back
up the latter.
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Kameron Esters-
Fear my godly wrath!
Name: Trenton Blackwater
Age: 37
Occupation: Marauder
Apperance: Trenton is a rugged looking man, with unkept black hair and sideburns. He is usually seen wearing his beige long-sleeved shirt and long,black jeans. He wears mocasin and has tribal beads studded with various teeth around his neck.He also wears a gambler stetson Trenton has dark brown eyes and the sharpest canines anyone as ever seen. He has one distinct canine that's slightly larger than the other.
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect): Numerous self-inflicted scars over his abdomen
Personality: Trenton is an apathetic, selfish individual who isn't above tormenting any and everyone who he encounters. His prime goal isn't to survive, but to live. To take advantage of whatever opportunity presented, regardless who it hurts.
Background(optional): Trenton was born to "The Blackwater Pack", a nickname given his hunter family. He's the 3rd oldest out of 15 siblings who've all but scattered throught The Waste. Among his siblings, Trenton was the most violent. Usually always instigating conflicts among his brothers and sisters. As he grew up, and the world withered; he took it as if he were at the playground. And like any kid, he wants the whole playground all to himself. He banded together any vagabond and renegade who wanted to be on top of the food chain, and began a group of marauders called "The Wayless".
Other: Quick healer and adept hunter
Age: 37
Occupation: Marauder
Apperance: Trenton is a rugged looking man, with unkept black hair and sideburns. He is usually seen wearing his beige long-sleeved shirt and long,black jeans. He wears mocasin and has tribal beads studded with various teeth around his neck.He also wears a gambler stetson Trenton has dark brown eyes and the sharpest canines anyone as ever seen. He has one distinct canine that's slightly larger than the other.
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect): Numerous self-inflicted scars over his abdomen
Personality: Trenton is an apathetic, selfish individual who isn't above tormenting any and everyone who he encounters. His prime goal isn't to survive, but to live. To take advantage of whatever opportunity presented, regardless who it hurts.
Background(optional): Trenton was born to "The Blackwater Pack", a nickname given his hunter family. He's the 3rd oldest out of 15 siblings who've all but scattered throught The Waste. Among his siblings, Trenton was the most violent. Usually always instigating conflicts among his brothers and sisters. As he grew up, and the world withered; he took it as if he were at the playground. And like any kid, he wants the whole playground all to himself. He banded together any vagabond and renegade who wanted to be on top of the food chain, and began a group of marauders called "The Wayless".
Other: Quick healer and adept hunter
DanniGage
OC Hoarder
Name: Riley Scott
She/Her or They/Them
Age: 25
Occupation: Doctor, still a little on the green side though
Apperance:
Short cool blonde hair that's a mess of curls (Normally pink, but for the sake of this setting I'm going with her natural hair color.) Often seen wearing a yellow blouse paired with a tea-length blue skirt and lace up boots. A bit short in stature, standing around 5'4", and rather lean. Her eyes are sparkling sapphire, and rather sharp, but outlined by dark circles from many long nights of work.
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect): A slight german accent, reminiscent of her parents hailing from elsewhere. The left side of her ribcage is littered with small scars, and even an old scar from a bullet wound. Walks with a slight limp.
Personality: Rather cheerful, but polite and reserved. She keeps to herself a lot, but has a bad habit of becoming attached to people. A side effect of charitable medical services, possibly. Insecure and small, she's not much in comparison to the others in the wastes though she can hold her own when it comes down to it. Maybe she throws a lousy punch and looks more likely to cry than fight back, but she's quicker than a whip with a knife and knows the best places to put a bullet.
Unfortunately, her father passed onto her his worst habit; alcoholism. She does her best to abstain in the presence of others and instead finds she likes drinking alone best.
Background(optional): The child of a pair of carpenters from a further place, she came to study medicine as she aged. Having trained under a more expert doctor, she's lately taken up to traveling in hopes of finding a place to set up a clinic of her own. Instead she's just been pulling bullets out of loud-mouthed gun-slingers and treating snake bites more often than not.
Other: She's a cat person, caring for a scruffy brown bobtailed cat named Arlo. Also a bit of a history in breaking hearts.
I hope I did this okay! ;;
She/Her or They/Them
Age: 25
Occupation: Doctor, still a little on the green side though
Apperance:
Short cool blonde hair that's a mess of curls (Normally pink, but for the sake of this setting I'm going with her natural hair color.) Often seen wearing a yellow blouse paired with a tea-length blue skirt and lace up boots. A bit short in stature, standing around 5'4", and rather lean. Her eyes are sparkling sapphire, and rather sharp, but outlined by dark circles from many long nights of work.
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect): A slight german accent, reminiscent of her parents hailing from elsewhere. The left side of her ribcage is littered with small scars, and even an old scar from a bullet wound. Walks with a slight limp.
Personality: Rather cheerful, but polite and reserved. She keeps to herself a lot, but has a bad habit of becoming attached to people. A side effect of charitable medical services, possibly. Insecure and small, she's not much in comparison to the others in the wastes though she can hold her own when it comes down to it. Maybe she throws a lousy punch and looks more likely to cry than fight back, but she's quicker than a whip with a knife and knows the best places to put a bullet.
Unfortunately, her father passed onto her his worst habit; alcoholism. She does her best to abstain in the presence of others and instead finds she likes drinking alone best.
Background(optional): The child of a pair of carpenters from a further place, she came to study medicine as she aged. Having trained under a more expert doctor, she's lately taken up to traveling in hopes of finding a place to set up a clinic of her own. Instead she's just been pulling bullets out of loud-mouthed gun-slingers and treating snake bites more often than not.
Other: She's a cat person, caring for a scruffy brown bobtailed cat named Arlo. Also a bit of a history in breaking hearts.
I hope I did this okay! ;;
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Axeykins
Humanoid Typhoon
Name: Father Sisceal Anderson
Age: 36
Occupation: "Priest", conman extraordinaire.
Apperance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
His hair is a silvery white. He stands at 6' 5" tall, lean build littered with scars. One of his eyes is a striking red color while the other is a soft blue.
Personality:
A real charming and sweet man, deep down. A true, genuine person who would sacrifice anything for those closest to him. Which are few and far in-between.
To others? He's a no good, two timing snake in the grass. Pay him well enough and you have a trusted partner until a better deal comes along into the mix. He's always looking for ways to make a decent profit.
Background(optional):
Not too much is known of him and for good reason. He makes sure to keep it on the down low and hidden as possible. What is known though, after he's recognized that is, is that he's from Paradizo and is the son of a well known, now retired pastor. And has a young daughter after a trist with the daughter of the sheriff in the town.
Other:
He's got a sever alcohol problem.
Age: 36
Occupation: "Priest", conman extraordinaire.
Apperance:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect):
His hair is a silvery white. He stands at 6' 5" tall, lean build littered with scars. One of his eyes is a striking red color while the other is a soft blue.
Personality:
A real charming and sweet man, deep down. A true, genuine person who would sacrifice anything for those closest to him. Which are few and far in-between.
To others? He's a no good, two timing snake in the grass. Pay him well enough and you have a trusted partner until a better deal comes along into the mix. He's always looking for ways to make a decent profit.
Background(optional):
Not too much is known of him and for good reason. He makes sure to keep it on the down low and hidden as possible. What is known though, after he's recognized that is, is that he's from Paradizo and is the son of a well known, now retired pastor. And has a young daughter after a trist with the daughter of the sheriff in the town.
Other:
He's got a sever alcohol problem.
Aridis
Mythology Encyclopedia
Name:
Fran
"Masked Nomad"
Age:
That's a great question.
Occupation:
Wanderer/Loner/ Lost child
Appearance:
(Picture to come)
Fran stands at about 5'6", and has a very lanky and thin stature; mainly because of how hard it is for them to find food. They have a messy head of black hair that tends to stick up in every other direction, and striking blue eyes that rarely anyone gets to see. In order to hide their face, Fran wears a mask that covers everything except for their mouth and chin. They don a completely ragged attire of once nice clothing; a torn and once-white shirt, dark pants, a vest, boots, and thick gloves that cover their hands. Fran wears a worn poncho over all of this. Well...An old blanket that they turned into a poncho, with a hood to cover their features.
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, etc):
Oh yeah. Kiddo has no tongue and is missing the ring finger on their right hand.
Personality:
Fran is quiet, and extremely shy. It's difficult for them to communicate with others due to the fact that speaking isn't exactly optional. Sure, Fran can make noises, but actual words are impossible to form. Because of this, Fran usually stays as quiet as they can. Oh yeah, there's also the whole "mysterious and somewhat intimidating appearance" that kind of drives off company as well. Not many folks seem to want to befriend a mute, semi-threatening looking stranger. Which sucks, because Fran is really nice and gentle once you get to know 'em. Fran has a great sense of humor too, but it can be a bit hard to understand their jokes sometimes.
Background(optional):
It's a bit difficult to say.
Fran doesn't remember much about their past. All they know is that one day, they woke up at the bottom of a canyon; with only the clothes on their back, and a couple of body parts missing. Everything before that moment seems to be nonexistent. Heck, Fran didn't even know what their own name was.
Fran eventually managed to find a town not too far away from the canyon and went around trying to ask folks for help. It took a while to find any sort of sympathy among the townspeople; most either ran in the opposite direction or tried to drive him out of town. Eventually, Fran was taken in by a half-blind old man who gave them shelter for the night. The old man gave Fran the name Fran. Well, he kept calling the amnesiac stranger "friend," but Fran misheard it and just assumed that "Fran" was his name.
Unfortunately, the kindness that this man offered only lasted so long. Within a couple of days, the elder ended up falling down some steps and breaking his neck. And a few days after that, the entire town was burned by an angered group of Indians and rogue cowboys. Hardly anyone survived the fire, but there did seem to be a pattern as to who got to be more fortunate. Those who hadn't met Fran, or had even seen him, seemed to have a higher chance of survival. Even their houses and properties seemed to be spared as well.
Quickly becoming the source of paranoia and superstition, Fran was driven out of the remains of the town for good.
A few more incidents like this occurred through the following months. Anyone that Fran befriended or came in contact with seemed to instantly be abandoned by Lady Luck. Rumors very quickly spread that, if one met this mute stranger, death would immediately follow. Eventually, word got back to Fran. It didn't take long for guilt to set into Fran, and as soon as possible they got themselves a mask to wear; as a bandana didn't seem to do the trick. After that, the incidents seemed to die down some. However, occasionally some curious stranger would want to see what was under Fran's mask. And every time they managed to yank it off of the poor amnesiac, misfortune would follow.
Other:
On top of all of the other stories, it's said that the "Masked Nomad" is immortal as well. (Though, who knows if that's true?)
Fran
"Masked Nomad"
Age:
That's a great question.
Occupation:
Wanderer/Loner/ Lost child
Appearance:
(Picture to come)
Fran stands at about 5'6", and has a very lanky and thin stature; mainly because of how hard it is for them to find food. They have a messy head of black hair that tends to stick up in every other direction, and striking blue eyes that rarely anyone gets to see. In order to hide their face, Fran wears a mask that covers everything except for their mouth and chin. They don a completely ragged attire of once nice clothing; a torn and once-white shirt, dark pants, a vest, boots, and thick gloves that cover their hands. Fran wears a worn poncho over all of this. Well...An old blanket that they turned into a poncho, with a hood to cover their features.
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, etc):
Oh yeah. Kiddo has no tongue and is missing the ring finger on their right hand.
Personality:
Fran is quiet, and extremely shy. It's difficult for them to communicate with others due to the fact that speaking isn't exactly optional. Sure, Fran can make noises, but actual words are impossible to form. Because of this, Fran usually stays as quiet as they can. Oh yeah, there's also the whole "mysterious and somewhat intimidating appearance" that kind of drives off company as well. Not many folks seem to want to befriend a mute, semi-threatening looking stranger. Which sucks, because Fran is really nice and gentle once you get to know 'em. Fran has a great sense of humor too, but it can be a bit hard to understand their jokes sometimes.
Background(optional):
It's a bit difficult to say.
Fran doesn't remember much about their past. All they know is that one day, they woke up at the bottom of a canyon; with only the clothes on their back, and a couple of body parts missing. Everything before that moment seems to be nonexistent. Heck, Fran didn't even know what their own name was.
Fran eventually managed to find a town not too far away from the canyon and went around trying to ask folks for help. It took a while to find any sort of sympathy among the townspeople; most either ran in the opposite direction or tried to drive him out of town. Eventually, Fran was taken in by a half-blind old man who gave them shelter for the night. The old man gave Fran the name Fran. Well, he kept calling the amnesiac stranger "friend," but Fran misheard it and just assumed that "Fran" was his name.
Unfortunately, the kindness that this man offered only lasted so long. Within a couple of days, the elder ended up falling down some steps and breaking his neck. And a few days after that, the entire town was burned by an angered group of Indians and rogue cowboys. Hardly anyone survived the fire, but there did seem to be a pattern as to who got to be more fortunate. Those who hadn't met Fran, or had even seen him, seemed to have a higher chance of survival. Even their houses and properties seemed to be spared as well.
Quickly becoming the source of paranoia and superstition, Fran was driven out of the remains of the town for good.
A few more incidents like this occurred through the following months. Anyone that Fran befriended or came in contact with seemed to instantly be abandoned by Lady Luck. Rumors very quickly spread that, if one met this mute stranger, death would immediately follow. Eventually, word got back to Fran. It didn't take long for guilt to set into Fran, and as soon as possible they got themselves a mask to wear; as a bandana didn't seem to do the trick. After that, the incidents seemed to die down some. However, occasionally some curious stranger would want to see what was under Fran's mask. And every time they managed to yank it off of the poor amnesiac, misfortune would follow.
Other:
On top of all of the other stories, it's said that the "Masked Nomad" is immortal as well. (Though, who knows if that's true?)
Axeykins
Humanoid Typhoon
Name:
Garris Hearthford
Age: 47
Occupation:
Sheriff/Lawman.
Appearance:
Appearance (Other): Large scars mar a good portion of his back, chest, arms and legs. He’s got a tattoo of a raven on his right shoulder.
Personality: Stone cold and loyal to the cities he serves. On a good day he gives one chance at redemption before outright killing or taking bounties into custody. For the worst of the worst he personally takes charge of the punishment. Not trusting anyone else to make sure they get what they deserve.
There are few he cares about, but even then his focus is mainly on his work. His goal being to eliminate all the scum crawling through the land and make a living for himself.
Background: Nothing too interesting to say here. He grew up well. Good family, good life. Nothing particularly bad happening to him or his kin. Trained from a young age with a very strong, opinionated sense of justice. Setting out with a goal of bringing peace to the continent. Pass on the same flame to his kids or other youths and sit back and watch as his goal is carried on.
Other: His main territory is the biggest town in the wastes Paradizo, where most reports are filed through and the biggest of the big fat cats of government reside.
He has a very VERY strong hatred for the biggest outlaws. Petty thieves and crimes he couldn't care less for, but the big guys? One day he dreams of seeing their heads mounted above his fireplace mantle. That is....after making them suffer for every single life they've taken.
Garris Hearthford
Age: 47
Occupation:
Sheriff/Lawman.
Appearance:
Appearance (Other): Large scars mar a good portion of his back, chest, arms and legs. He’s got a tattoo of a raven on his right shoulder.
Personality: Stone cold and loyal to the cities he serves. On a good day he gives one chance at redemption before outright killing or taking bounties into custody. For the worst of the worst he personally takes charge of the punishment. Not trusting anyone else to make sure they get what they deserve.
There are few he cares about, but even then his focus is mainly on his work. His goal being to eliminate all the scum crawling through the land and make a living for himself.
Background: Nothing too interesting to say here. He grew up well. Good family, good life. Nothing particularly bad happening to him or his kin. Trained from a young age with a very strong, opinionated sense of justice. Setting out with a goal of bringing peace to the continent. Pass on the same flame to his kids or other youths and sit back and watch as his goal is carried on.
Other: His main territory is the biggest town in the wastes Paradizo, where most reports are filed through and the biggest of the big fat cats of government reside.
He has a very VERY strong hatred for the biggest outlaws. Petty thieves and crimes he couldn't care less for, but the big guys? One day he dreams of seeing their heads mounted above his fireplace mantle. That is....after making them suffer for every single life they've taken.
Tempo
New Member
Tobias Scratch
24
Deadlands Shaman
Healer | Medium | Spiritwalker
Stats: 5’7” | 122 Lbs. | Brown Eyes | Lean
Life in the Deadlands has made Tobias quite lean, rarely having enough to eat in excess and generally lacking the protein to create a bulky musculature. While not looking terribly gaunt or emaciated, this does leave his frame looking quite thin and his features angular. He is of a very mixed decent in regards to his heritage. It would be hard to place his features as belonging to a single ancestry. His flesh has a natural tanned tone to it without the assistance of the sun, and when his flesh is exposed to the unrelenting rays of the sun it only serves to make it darker rather than outright burning. His hair is thick and while potentially once a dark black, has been bleached out by the sun to be more of a dark gray. He tends to his mane himself, keeping the hair on the top a few inches long while trimming any length on the sides that exceeds the tops of his fingers when he runs them through it.
24
Deadlands Shaman
Healer | Medium | Spiritwalker
Stats: 5’7” | 122 Lbs. | Brown Eyes | Lean
Tattoos: Tobias has a number of tattoos that cover his body, ranging from the great splay of wings on his chest whose feathers reach up his neck to tickle his ears, to the smaller tribal markings that cover his arms and back.
Scarring: There are a number of scars on Tobias’ body, the highest concentration of scars are on his forearms and appear to be self inflicted and ritualistic in their precision.
Scarring: There are a number of scars on Tobias’ body, the highest concentration of scars are on his forearms and appear to be self inflicted and ritualistic in their precision.
History:Tobias knows little of his history prior to being taken in by his clan and in truth does not care to know. As told by the clan elders, he was found as an infant in the ruins of a raided caravan somewhere to the east of the village. Had his mother not perished on top of him, he would have quickly succumbed to the unforgiving Deadlands before he could be discovered. While he is thankful for his mother’s sacrifice and dedication to his protection even in death, he knows that she walks with him as a guiding spirit and he will know her more fully in death than he could by learning of her life.
Having a life marked with death at such a young age thinned the boundary to the spirit world for Tobias and made him a prime candidate to become the village Shaman’s pupil. This shaman, Erasmus, took Tobias in to his home and raised him as his own, teaching him all he would need to know about both the physical and spiritual world and how to maintain the balance between them.
Life in his small village with no name was not always easy of course, there was hardly ever enough to eat to be truly full and death was a constant visitor to his neighbors. Despite this, Tobias had a reasonably happy upbringing and was content knowing that eventually he would take over Erasmus’ duties in the village once the older shaman had rejoined the ancestors. However, shortly after his twenty second birthday, Tobias was delivered a powerful vision by his guardian spirits. He watched the Deadlands spread everywhere across the world, devouring all life and rising up to suffocate the sun. The screams of the dying drowned out by the pounding of running feet. Upon waking from his vision, Tobias was filled with the knowledge that he had to set out upon the world and do whatever he could to purge the land of whatever blight his ancestors had unleashed.
Since leaving his village, Tobias has been traveling far and wide, trying to restore the balance between the physical and spirit world before disaster can strike again. He makes his living by offering his abilities as a healer and medium to those he meets in exchange for coin or goods.
Tobias carries a rather unimpressive revolver on his right hip, the leather holster and enamel grip sun-bleached and scuffed by rough sands. If you thought this blatant lack of respect for his pistol was somehow indicative of his skill with the firearm well, you’d be absolutely correct. The gun is largely used as a deterrent for potential bandits and while he could absolutely hit the broadside of a barn, his ability to hit any small target is severely limited.
Resting beside the worn-down revolver, is a dagger approximately ten inches in length. The blade is kept in much better condition than the firearm and from the intricate details etched into the hilt and crossguard, one could assume some ceremonial aspect to the blade.
The last of Tobias’ weapons is the sturdy staff he carries on his person at all times. The staff is made of a sturdy dark wood and is covered in etchings of animals and symbols that Tobias can often been seen adding to in his down time. Of all Tobias’ weapons, the staff is the most used and the one he is most comfortable using. It would hardly save him in a gunfight but he does his best to avoid those.
Resting beside the worn-down revolver, is a dagger approximately ten inches in length. The blade is kept in much better condition than the firearm and from the intricate details etched into the hilt and crossguard, one could assume some ceremonial aspect to the blade.
The last of Tobias’ weapons is the sturdy staff he carries on his person at all times. The staff is made of a sturdy dark wood and is covered in etchings of animals and symbols that Tobias can often been seen adding to in his down time. Of all Tobias’ weapons, the staff is the most used and the one he is most comfortable using. It would hardly save him in a gunfight but he does his best to avoid those.
D U H
☁☁☁
Name: Fran Dunsinane
Age: 36
Occupation: Local Barber
Personality: Giving her just a glance Fran has the most intimidating gaze known to man. Her gaze is just as influential as her personality; she speaks her mind and says what she's thinking. Though her tongue can be hard to handle and has gotten her into trouble, it has also done the opposite. Having a silver tongue has its perks Fran can get on anyone's right side her. Usually having the gift of gab can get annoying but not with Fran maybe its that she knows how to use it or perhaps it's just her good intentions.
Background: -Married a wealthy man (Alex) by the time she was 16
-Alex gifted Fran her shop which she turned into a flower shop
-Husband lost his wealth when they had their first child (Tim)
-Opened up her barber business
-Husband and son were accused of manslaughter
- Husband was hanged
-Son left town only to return 4 years later
-Married to a harlot 3 of them to be exact
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ShotOfDepresso
New Member
Name: Sky Noelle Wynters
Age: 22-25
Alias: Ice Queen, Poison/Plague Princess
Occupation: Plague/pestilence Rider
Apperance:
Outfit:
Face claim:
Sky’s goggles/glasses:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect): Sky Is extremely short, only reaching 4’8. When at a distance, she is most mistaken for a child, which is an advantage for her. Sky’s vision is shit, no joke, it’s in the negatives, so she uses goggles with magnifyers that are similar to what history calls ‘glasses’. She has a scar that goes from the right side of her top lip to right below her nose. She’ll tell you how she got it, but she’ll have to kill you afterwards. Sky has a tattoo on her right bicep of a moon and the word лунный (lunnayy) which is Russian for Lunar.
Personality: Sky is quite a quiet and analytical person, only talking when needed. It’s not that she dislikes conversations-well, she doesn’t exactly like talking to people, but she wants to at least try. She seems cold and mean when you first meet her, but if you keep pushing, she just might open up-or kill you, It depends on her mood. Sky is extremely smart, and she uses her smarts to aid in her raids. Sky is temperamental but is often the voice of reason, strangely enough. more of her personality will be revealed in the story Arc.
Background(optional): not much is known about the tiny Russian alchemist, but it is speculated that her family were nobles back when Russia was a country, but obviously, the title holds no power now.
Other: Sky is an amazing chemist and marks (wo)man, her specialties being poison and/or general biological warfare. her specialty poison is akin to hypothermia, hence the name 'ice queen.' her arsenal consists of one thing: a mech crossbow that can also shift into a revolver if need be. Sky always tips her and her friend's bullets and arrows with some new tester poison. Sky has a fear of fire, but no one knows why. her horse, Pestel, has been with her since the beginning, as Petel's mother was Sky's childhood horse. the name Pestel comes from the fact that the Snow White horse seems to be immune to illness. more to be revealed in the story Arc
Age: 22-25
Alias: Ice Queen, Poison/Plague Princess
Occupation: Plague/pestilence Rider
Apperance:
Outfit:
Face claim:
Sky’s goggles/glasses:
Appearance other(what we can’t see, tattoos, scars, ect): Sky Is extremely short, only reaching 4’8. When at a distance, she is most mistaken for a child, which is an advantage for her. Sky’s vision is shit, no joke, it’s in the negatives, so she uses goggles with magnifyers that are similar to what history calls ‘glasses’. She has a scar that goes from the right side of her top lip to right below her nose. She’ll tell you how she got it, but she’ll have to kill you afterwards. Sky has a tattoo on her right bicep of a moon and the word лунный (lunnayy) which is Russian for Lunar.
Personality: Sky is quite a quiet and analytical person, only talking when needed. It’s not that she dislikes conversations-well, she doesn’t exactly like talking to people, but she wants to at least try. She seems cold and mean when you first meet her, but if you keep pushing, she just might open up-or kill you, It depends on her mood. Sky is extremely smart, and she uses her smarts to aid in her raids. Sky is temperamental but is often the voice of reason, strangely enough. more of her personality will be revealed in the story Arc.
Background(optional): not much is known about the tiny Russian alchemist, but it is speculated that her family were nobles back when Russia was a country, but obviously, the title holds no power now.
Other: Sky is an amazing chemist and marks (wo)man, her specialties being poison and/or general biological warfare. her specialty poison is akin to hypothermia, hence the name 'ice queen.' her arsenal consists of one thing: a mech crossbow that can also shift into a revolver if need be. Sky always tips her and her friend's bullets and arrows with some new tester poison. Sky has a fear of fire, but no one knows why. her horse, Pestel, has been with her since the beginning, as Petel's mother was Sky's childhood horse. the name Pestel comes from the fact that the Snow White horse seems to be immune to illness. more to be revealed in the story Arc
