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Mardi Gras Merriment; A mini-event to celebrate N'awlins
Topic Started: Feb 15 2018, 12:03 PM (1,652 Views)
Mixtli
Member Avatar
Resident Canadian
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Slater clapped Jesse on the shoulder. "Thanks for the drink Jesse Winters. My mama named me John Slater, but I just go by Slater now." He looked at the two young men that were deep in conversation. "I'll leave the Kumbayah shit to you two, but feel free to do whatever this whole shirt swap thing is."

He downed the hurricane and laughed at the fruity taste. "Hey bartender," he growled as he slid the glass back across the counter. "Did you think I'd like one of these fruity drinks?"

A number of the patrons in the bar looked uneasy. The bartender cleared his throat to find his voice. He was usually ok with unruly patrons, but this old cuss had the scars of five men and some sort of spiked hammer leaning next to his chair. "Ok buddy, the Leaky Tiki is supposed to be full-a relaxed vibes, so I'm going to have to ask you to-"

Slater interrupted him with a bear hug across the counter. "I fucking loved that drink! Put another one out here so we can keep this party going!"

The bartender scowled for a moment before the poor timing of the joke cracked him up. "Another hurricane, coming right up."

He turned to the woman that had ordered the whiskey. "I couldn't agree more," he muttered as he sat heavily next to her. "The only thing that holdin' hands and making wishes does is paint a nice target on your back." He grinned as the bartender handed him his new hurricane. "Nice scars. I don't think I've introduced myself." He slapped himself on the chest. "You can call me Slater." He peered at her glass. "By the way, is the whiskey here any good? Fruity drinks are nice, but the real fun comes from good food, hard liquor, and a solid fight."
Thomas Grey, level 5, Ranger Rep +10, BT Rep +118, Brick Rep +15
SPECIAL: 6, 7, 7, 4, 7, 6, 3
Equipment
Weaponry: Colt Army revolver, pocket revolver, 1x smoke/stun/baseball grenades.
Armor: Pack rat clothing, leather greaves, reinforced chaps.
Appearance: Caucasian. Tall, strong build, short thick curly brown hair. Dark eyes, a frown, and a cleanshaven face. Grey shirt with 3/4 sleeves and leather bracers. Jeans with reinforced leather chaps, and a tool belt.
Companion: Elizabeth Sharpe - 4, 8, 4, 3, 5, 10, 6 - Small stature, but makes up for it with knives, a crossbow, and attitude. Level 5. +5 BT Rep.
John Slater: SPECIAL 8(+1).4.10.5.5.4.5.
One bad hombre
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Funkifan
Member Avatar
The Cobras' Leader
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"I appreciate the help to get around the city... hadn't seen a party so animated, with such intensity, in a long time. It is... relieving to see... after all this time..." The woman walking next to Edgar spoke, as she held tightly from an arm, as people went back and forth, dancing and singing, running and eating.

The redhead replied with a smile, as he spoke up, barely being able to hear her with all the noise. "T-thank you for l-letting me stay in y-your h-home!"

The ghoul grasping him turned her head to face him, yet as she did, the redhead remembered the cherry sweatband that covered her eyes, completely obscuring them underneath. Her face was round, and had a narrow chin, that to the medic at least, conveyed a rather cute appearance. She lacked a nose, the only remainders of it were her nostrils, and most of her skin had peeled away, leaving only exposed muscle, that had taken a brown coloration. Surprisingly, her lips, although chaffed and deteriorated, still maintained their heart shape. Another exception was her wavy, short, black hair, that although frail, was mostly present on her scalp, except for a couple patches were little still remained.

Her outfit consisted of a white dress, with a low v-cut, a crimson boa wrapped around her neck, and two black boots.

A small, faint smile was pursed on her lips. Barely noticeable, yet it was there.

His attention suddenly was diverted, as something crashed on his head, then fell into his shoulders. Wincing, he quickly reacted as the item fell, catching it with his left hand, utilizing his free arm, feeling something round and thin all over. As he inspected the items, he soon found them to be some kind of beads. His gaze darted from place to place, until he discovered where they had come from, a boat with several people throwing them to onlookers. His eyes soon found themselves fixated on the scantily clad woman that was the main focus of the boat.

Perhaps, he stood there for a little too long, admiring her. His attention went back to the current situation as he felt a tug coming from his current companion.

"Everything good?" Was the question asked, which received an energetic nod from Edgar, as a noticeable blush covered his cheeks, not taking long to remember her blindness. "Yes! Uh... just... was given some beads... uh! Here!"

He reached for another collar on the ground, and carefully placed it over the woman's head, the beads clinking as the landed on her shoulders, making her flinch for a moment, before once again relaxing.

Thus, they continued on, as several people regarded Edgar for his services, a couple people offering him drinks, which him, out of being polite and nervous, drank them. Although not too alcoholic, a lightheaded feeling began to take over him. The sounds and movements of the dancing people and the musicians made the redhead lose his direction for a moment, ending with him crashing with a lady that wore a beautiful mask, making a line near a food stand.

"Uh... I, I'm sorry missss!" He spoke up, looking down at her, as tried to regain enough composture to properly speak to her. "I... are you alright... didn't meannn to... you know... c-crash into you..."
Edgar Algae -HC-

SPECIAL: 3-5-7-8-6-7-4

Level: 4

Edgar is a tall, attractive man, with red bright hair, green eyes, and tan skin, due to his Hispanic heritage. He currently wears a yellow t-shirt, with cargo shorts, a Leather Jacket (Tier 2, Good CON, plus on intimidation checks). Attached to his left wrist, he possesses an Automedical Assistant. On his back, he carries an XL Rucksack, that contains several items of his', like a Medical armored Suitcase, filled with all sorts of medical equipment. His weapon of choice is the Study Group Special, a modified mini-zapper.

He is Good Natured, Spongey, and has Sex Appeal (For the girls)


+120 BT Reputation; +90 Nawlins Reputation
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azstarael
Member Avatar
"Got a light?"
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Spike was very drunk.

It was probably his own fault for picking up yet another ‘swill bucket’ about five minutes after telling himself it was time to take it easy. Another hit of jet had him walking that odd triple razor’s edge between “strung the fuck out”, “drunk as hell”, and “best time ever”. There were very few instances that he felt the need to pace himself; this was one of them. The night wasn’t even halfway over, he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t see what the rest of it had to offer. One slurred request of “food!” at a promising stall, and he’d been handed a weird-looking fried thing, like a bunch of rope all tangled together and covered with white powder. A quick bite proved it deliciously greasy and sweet. The concoction would either come up easy, or help absorb some of the alcohol. Either way, he won. Spike ate as much as his shrunken stomach would hold, felt better for the effort, and went back to his original plan- celebrating some unknown holiday as hard as possible.

It wasn’t too long before he found himself at a more established bar. He ducked his way in, weaved effortlessly through the throng, and immediately spotted a small cluster that looked like they were up to little, if any, good intentions.

Perfect.

“Guys,” he slipped himself seamlessly between a burly older man and a dark-skinned fellow, wrapping an arm around both shoulders respectively, “y’ain’t nearly fucked up enough, am I right?” He grinned at both of them, before his slightly unfocused eyes managed to hone in on Slater. “Dude, I know you! Y’were…with the boat, saw you fuckin’…crazy shit!” He needed another hit of jet, possibly some food. More than anything, he wanted to dabble a bit farther into his pockets. Fact of the matter was, it was always more fun with company. He jerked a thumb toward the door. “Drinking’s great and all, but I got some real favors that’re way more…” he paused briefly, twirling two fingers provocatively, “interesting. Bring your friends, it’s merry grass. I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Spike, level 5 (Hardcore Mode)
S:4 P:9(-1) E:7 C:2 I:4(-1) A:10(+1) L:5
Perks
Finesse | Small Frame | Chem Reliant
Equipment:
Switchblade | Rudimentary revolver | x5 Throwing Knives (GC) | Scary Terry Knife Gauntlet
Armor:
Duster coat (Poor Condition)
Reputation
Bucket Town (-30)
Claw (Companion)
S:2 P:7 E:9 C:3 I:9 A:8 L:2
Perks
Jinxed | Hunter| Marksman
Equipment
Junk flinger | Kitchen knife (Poor Condition)
Armor
Desert Clothing (Poor Condition)
Nicholas Stahley, level 1
S.4 P.8 E.3 C.6 I.8 A.4 L.7
Perks
Improv Artist | Perfectionist | Fast Learner
Equipment
Homemade Shotgun | Zip Gun
Armor
Dirty Pre-war Clothes
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FallenSanity
Member Avatar
I didn't even know I had this
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"It's good enough to knock you on your ass, Slater." She spoke with a smirk as she downed her third shot, and showed no signs of slowing down. Did she have a strong resistance, or was she trying to get enough into her before it hit? Whichever case, she didn't care - she just wanted to drink more.

The man next to her was dressed like a bum and, more importantly, looked about ready to be put down. Whether he was just old or whether he'd been through the meat grinder of life, he looked like the sort of person you'd expect to find lounging in a rocking chair on some forgotten porch in some forgotten town in some forgotten corner of the wasteland. Instead he was here, drinking away and looking to enjoy a party. It reminded Elizabeth of the people who would fight for days at a time, and then spend any moment of relaxation with a bottle in hand. She smiled and moved a little, turning to face Slater while keeping herself propped up against the bar.

"Names Elizabeth. Prefer Eli or Ellie, Eliza's good too." She gave the weathered man a once over and smirked, shaking her head and downing the drink handed to her. "You look like shit. Sorry for not compensating the compliment." She turned back and sighed a little, tapping the bar and rubbing her head. Whatever she'd just been given tasted more like water than whiskey, and she didn't stand for that sort of shit.

"Barkeep! Two more shots, c'mon." She looked at Slater and smiled, gesturing her head at the bar. "Wanna join me for a drink? I'm happy to have 'em both if you're not in the mood old man."
Daniel Orton [HC]
Lvl 6: Copperhead Cook
Rep: -40 Eastern Texas, -250 Texas Rangers, +90 Crag
Equipped: Mirrored Sunglasses, Armstrong Hellcat Necklace, Raider Armour, Culture-Clash Jacket, Crag Swag (Jeans), Black Banana Hammock, Leather Belt, Desert Boots, Skullfucker, Death Knell, Combat Knife, Sharp Hatchet, Hannibals Haymaker, Pre-War Mountain Bike
Status Effects: Internal Parasite
Abilities: Sucker Punch
S:6 P:3 E:5 C:5 I:3 A:10 L:8

Elizabeth 'Eli' Stoudemire
Lvl 1: Humble Hobo
Equipped: Knife, Revolver, Coat
S:3 P:8 E:4 C:6 I:4 A:8 L:7

CP: FS has a bachelors degree in poor taste and a masters in bad manners

LD: Orton can be whatever Hamiltons version of The Nightman is

FP: fs youre like in a very minor minority where cauze youre autistic and gay and an asshole you can say any slur
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Hornswaggler
Member Avatar
almost as nice as Funki
[ *  *  * ]
He'd just wanted a meal.

Really, that was it. Just something a little more substantial than the lizards or occasional small warrenworm he'd been able to catch lately.

Thomas had not anticipated...whatever the hell this was.

He hadn't been to this city before, but just judging by what he'd heard from caravans and other surrounding towns, it was a significant one. It was still doubtful that it usually saw this many people. The streets were packed, a band was playing somewhere -- or maybe more than one, there wasn't really one set melody he could hear -- and a whole line of gaudy decorated carts were being pulled through the crowd.

He'd just wanted a damn meal.

It was, luckily, still easy enough to weave between people without being noticed by more than a few of them. That didn't stop them from pressing in around him, or stop his breathing from picking up speed, or stop the thoughts that he really should just turn right around again, food be damned.

"Got plenty of food around here," Aiden pointed out. Thomas caught himself glancing around instinctively, as if he didn't know exactly where the voice was coming from -- or, rather, wasn't coming from. "Just chill out for like, two seconds, it's not gonna kill you."

Thomas grimaced, pressing up against a wall for a moment to avoid a small group that pushed by. "Easy for you to say," he muttered. At least the noise level would probably keep anyone from giving him those suspicious looks for it. "You gonna complain or are you gonna help?"

"I could be plenty of help if you'd just shove over."

"Like hell, you know how many guns they've probably got around here?"

That just got an impatient snort and Thomas shook his head sharply to focus again. This was the exact type of situation he preferred avoiding. Not that he'd ever seen anything like it before, but it certainly fell somewhere into the 'worst case scenario' category.

Priorities: get away from the main crowd, possibly find something to eat, get the hell out of town.

And, apparently, try not to get concussed by bundles of plastic that people were throwing.

Thomas scooped the beads off the ground, frowning at them for a moment before he shoved them into a pocket and pressed on toward the nearest open door. It smelled and sounded like a bar, but pretty much every part of town did at this point. At least this place had four walls and a lot less yelling.

The bartender looked harried, to say the least, but that was probably to be expected given the state of things. He looked expectant when he made it over to Thomas, which probably meant most people already knew what they were ordering. It took some concentration not to stammer under the look, and Thomas was a little proud that he managed it.

"As long as it doesn't have alcohol," he called over the noise, "surprise me."

The other man raised a surprised eyebrow before shrugging and turning away. Thomas leaned against the bar, both hands scrubbing over his face quickly.

"C'mon, it's obviously a party and you're not even getting plastered?"

"Shut up."

"Just saying, you could definitely do to loosen up some, pal."

"Oh my God, shut up..."
Donny: Level 1 | BT Rep: -25
S:8 P:3 E:5 C:7 (+1) I:4 A:8 L:5 [injured arm]
Equipment:
Battle Bat (T2) | Zip gun | Cross Blade (T1)
Armor:
Tattered leather jacket | Coal Miner's Tee-Shirt
Supplies:
Large Hide x2 | Molerat meat | La Ranchero voucher | Coyote meat | Kissing Cousins Lid | Rose rosary beads | Holdout Bible
Traits:
Finesse | Scatterbrain | (Masochist)
Thomas(/Aiden) Valker: Lvl 1
S:4 P:8 E:6 C:5 I:5 A:7 L:3 (Cha -3 when Aiden is controlling)
Equipment:
Hatchet | Switchblade
Armor:
Packrat's Clothing
Traits:
Creep | Small Frame | Duelist

Human John - An average Human male
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vexedBubble
Member Avatar
Ghoul
[ *  *  *  * ]
Only two more people before she could order some deep fried goodness. Her stomach growled loudly and she looked down, cradling it in her hands. She raised an eyebrow. Fuck...its been a while since I’ve actually had a meal… Alida bit her lip, looking back up to the food stall before being knocked suddenly in her bad shoulder. She gasped loudly, turning quickly to face a drunk, red haired man apologising profusely.

"Uh... I, I'm sorry missss! I... are you alright... didn't meannn to... you know... c-crash into you..."

“Oh! You were on the boat! You helped me with my arm!” as she said it, her shoulder pulsed with pain and she massaged it gently with one hand. “Still hurts, but it’s better than before.” She nodded, seeming proud in his work. Her eyes drifted to his companion, tilting her head in curiosity at the ghoul. She hadn’t seen many of them in her lifetime and couldn’t help but stare.

“Next!” she turned quickly to the man running to the food stand and raised her hand slightly.

“Want food?” Alida asked in Edgar’s direction before walking quickly up to the stall. “Just…three of whatever’s good!” she was handed three of what he called ‘King Cake’, and returned to the boy. “Here.” She held out two of the cakes, already starting to eat her own. “I haven’t eaten properly in years and this is fucking delicious.”
| Alida Brandy | Lvl 1 | "a mix of zooey deschanel and the entirety of ww1" - Fom
| S:3(-1) P:8(+1) E:7 C:8 I:4 A:6(-1) L:3 | Hungry like the Wolf! - stat adjustments for 2 solos/tags
| +75 N'awlins |
| Pipe Rifle | Switchblade | Flintlock |
| Denizen of the Dark | Sex Appeal | Fast Learner |

| Mór-Ríoghain | Lvl 1 |
| S:4 P:8 E:8 C:4 I:5 A:3 L:8 |
| Hatchet | Handmade Bow (with arrows) |
| Hunter | Creep |
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Skyhawk347
Wastelander
[ *  *  *  * ]
"Well," Hawkins said to Blue after hearing the latter's mission, "I have to admit, you have completely blown away my first impression of you. Not that that's a bad thing."

Hawkins had to think long and hard about the kid's plan, especially with what the other two had said. It was ambitious to be sure. The kid clearly wanted to make the world a better place, and was aiming high to do so... just like he, Miguel and Erin had. He hadn't heard of Bucket Town, but if it was as bad there as Blue claimed it to be...

Besides, the kid showed clear signs of abuse: the malnutrition, the lack of good clothing and... oh, God were those the faint markings from a slave collar around his neck?!

Okay, if he turned this down, he'd be condemning a kid who was only... what 15? 16?... to wander the wastes. Yeah, not happening if he had anything to say about it.

"Alright, I'll come with you. But sadly, and I will have to lay this rule out, before I lift a finger to actually help you once we get there, I'm going to need proof. But are you sure you can do this? Run a republic? It's a pretty tall order. You have to manage supply routes, be responsible for the safety and well-being of everyone there... you sure you're up to it?"
Ryan Hawkins - Level 1
SPECIAL: 5, 8, 7, 3, 6, 9, 3
Equipment: "Talon" (customized rifle), handyman's auto revolver (PC), knife, throwing knives x5, duster coat (desert camo), tan wide-brimmed hat, biker goggles, blue bandana, blue jeans, gloves, gecko-skinned boots
21 years old, 6'1" and wiry; boyish face with shaggy blonde hair, grey eyes, and a mutilated left ear (upper part has been bitten off)
Traits: Scatterbrained, Small Frame
http://s3.zetaboards.com/The_wastes/topic/9048978/1/

Companion
Blue Collins - Level 3



thefortunepsker: Youre like
thefortunepsker: What we need
thefortunepsker: In the cbox dynamic
thefortunepsker: A straight man

JewsphGordonLevitt: I need to get in my writing zone, so activate my thot powers

thefortunepsker: skyhawks like the old man of the cbox
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Blue Collins
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Head raider
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Skyhawk347
Feb 25 2018, 05:24 AM
"Well," Hawkins said to Blue after hearing the latter's mission, "I have to admit, you have completely blown away my first impression of you. Not that that's a bad thing."

Hawkins had to think long and hard about the kid's plan, especially with what the other two had said. It was ambitious to be sure. The kid clearly wanted to make the world a better place, and was aiming high to do so... just like he, Miguel and Erin had. He hadn't heard of Bucket Town, but if it was as bad there as Blue claimed it to be...

Besides, the kid showed clear signs of abuse: the malnutrition, the lack of good clothing and... oh, God were those the faint markings from a slave collar around his neck?!

Okay, if he turned this down, he'd be condemning a kid who was only... what 15? 16?... to wander the wastes. Yeah, not happening if he had anything to say about it.

"Alright, I'll come with you. But sadly, and I will have to lay this rule out, before I lift a finger to actually help you once we get there, I'm going to need proof. But are you sure you can do this? Run a republic? It's a pretty tall order. You have to manage supply routes, be responsible for the safety and well-being of everyone there... you sure you're up to it?"
Blue ignored the naysayers, the newcomers, and everyone else to focus on Ryan. He then gave a short nod.

"Supply routes and infrastructure, trade, safety, and well-being. I am sure I can do that. While as for proof, well, just seek out rumors of Bucket Town even here. While my views might be...colored by my youth and my personality, I can assure you that there is a populist mayor and a shady Council. And said council, should you seek out more rumors, certainly took its power from a coup where they expelled the legally elected leader of Bucket Town, a Priest. A Priest, Ryan."

A pause.

"But if I cannot provide proof that Bucket Town needs to be taken over, I do have an alternative: Brick. Also known as the town that produces Bricks. The mayor there is not entirely bad, but he is corrupt; everyone who's followed the rumor mill on chems knows that most Jet comes from Brick for a reason."

Another pause as Blue frowned, and leaned in.

"And finally, there is the Sulphur Springs Republic, most famous for its 'sacred' Hot Spring. It's a Republic already, highly militarized, but its people, thanks to political and populist trickery are about to vote to allow Slavery in local law. So yes, plenty of alternatives."

A smile. "And thanks, thanks for agreeing to stay with me a while. A kid needs allies, after all."
Endymion 'Endy' Soap - Level 1

Flame Collins - Temporarily Seperate from Blue - Level 3

Shintaro Kanzaki - Level 1
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Mr. Meta
Member Avatar
Really hates you
[ *  *  *  * ]
“Fuck off, Smoothskin.”

“Oh come on! Just say it once!” Nia pleaded.

“Fuck OFF, smoothskin!”

“Pleaaase? Say it with me: Braaaains”

The ghoul threw his cigarette at the ground and lit another one before he looked staunchly in the other direction.

“Fine! You flaky turd-” Georgie placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Stop terrorizing the locals.” He instructed. Nia gave him the side-eye. She always liked to mess with people. ”Sorry, she’s…her.” Georgie politely stepped forward against Nia’s ardent ‘don’t speak for me!’ falling out into the background. “I-is there a bar that sells absinthe? My girlfriend and I wanted to try-“ The ghoul oddly obliged Georgie not looking down from his smoke.

“There’s the acropolis right over there. Best absinthe in town.”

“More like acrapolis” Nia huffed. He walked hand in hand with Nia, towering over her as he always did.

“What is with you today? You love this kinda stuff.”

“It-It’s just!”

“Have you eaten yet?” He asked. Nia folded her arms. “You haven’t eaten have you?”

“N-no…”

“Sweetie…” Georgie pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re going to be getting wasted off of absinthe and moonshine and you didn’t eat? You’re like 5’3” and weigh like a buck o’ nine.”

“Buck o’ eight…”

“Right, well what about…” Georgie was looking for stalls. He learned Nia wasn’t the biggest fan of fried foods.

“Mighty caaake.” She practically drooled. Her sweet tooth had been gnawing at her, so they made a stop. Nia hung close to Georgie. She trusted him, but every minute that passed it seemed another woman put beads around Georgie’s neck but she held her tongue. Georgie had flashed his revolver on opportunists grabbing at her rear a few times now and he managed to hold his.

The moment they were at the front of the line, Nia was beaming yet again. She was barely higher than the counter top they were serving her at.

“Two king cakes and uh…what do you want, Georgie?” She grinned over her shoulder.

“I’ll take one. “ The moment Nia got her order, she dug in with reckless abandon, still maintaining her lady like habits while trying not to drop crumbs all over herself. Georgie was a bit less graceful and needed a few helpful swipes from Nia to stay tidy. A glimpse caught his eye. Georgie could never forget a face; nor a voice.

“Sandra?”

Even as a ghoul, she still had that radiance that emanated from her album covers. Nia gave him a weird glare. Georgie clarified upon hearing Nia's near telepathic suspicion.

“Y-you’re the singer-artist I mean! Artist. I have one of your vinyls! I love your stuff! Listen, your second album inspired me to get back to writing music again.” Georgie gushed. Nia chuckled and shook her head. He was such a nerd! He noticed her companion; a red-head man that had been accompanying her closely. “Sorry, I see you’re busy…but I mean, if your date doesn’t mind maybe we all could get a drink! I mean, if that’s cool.” He looked at Nia giddily for confirmation.

“I don’t mind if they don’t. But I’m sure they’re busy,” Nia impishly pushed Georgie along, trying to get him to stop bothering the kind undead revenant. Georgie stammered yet again.

“I-I’m Georgie by the way! And this is Nia.” Georgie briefly introduced, with Nia holding up a tentative hand.

Posted Image

Georgie Vallens
S.(2)|P.(8)|E.(3)|C.(4)|I.(10)|A.(3)|L.(7)
>>>Nia Romero
  S.(7)|P.(4)|E.(6)|C.(7)|I.(5)|A.(7)|L.(4)

Jeannie Clyne
S.(6)|P.(4)|E.(6)|C.(3)|I.(9)|A.(7)|L.(5)
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HenchmenF
Wasteland leader
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
“BA DUM DUM DISH DUM DUM!!!” Jimmy screamed out at the top of his lungs as he stood splashing beer onto the crowd from the float he was on, throwing cheap baubles of jewelry out with the other hand.

Loud, joyous brass and string instruments collaborated and connected in wonderful harmony; echoing around him. Jimmy wasn’t sure how he got to this exact moment in time. Jimmy wasn’t even sure if he was fully conscious at this point. He remembered waking up to the sudden playing of instruments and a bottle of booze shoved at him. He had found himself on this elaborately decorated float, filled with half naked women and talented musicians.

Jimmy pointed out a young kid and gave a toss off the jewelry out to him. The child eagerly reached out and grabbed it, before disappearing into the crowd once more. Jimmy laughed, swaying to the music as he stood on the top of the float. Jimmy took a hard swig of the bottle of booze that was shoved into his face, wrapping his arm around a trumpeter.

Two little drips fell onto Jimmy’s tongue. Confused, Jimmy shook the bottle angrily. Nothing. No more alcohol appeared. Jimmy scanned the surrounding area in a panic. A bar was ahead. Jimmy took a step off of the float, crashing onto the ground with a thud. More than a few gasps and shouts came from both the float crew and the crowd, who had gotten used and grown to at least enjoy Jimmy’s antics on the float.

Jimmy groaned as he picked himself up, swatting away the helping hands offered to him. Shuffling into the nearby bar, a pair of broken sunglasses concealing his bloodshot and blurry eyes; Jimmy stumbled in towards the bartender.

“HELLO.” Jimmy shouted at the bartender, unaware of the difference of noise level between the outside world and the much quieter bar. “I WANT UHHHHH….” Jimmy shouted, briefly ceasing as he looked around the bar, “A ROUND FOR EVERYBODY IN HERE.”

“Excuse me?” The bartender said. Jimmy blinked underneath his sunglasses, attempting to discern which of the two bartenders was the right one.

“MAKE IT TWO.”

“Can you pay for it?”

“YES.”

“Prove it.”

Jimmy reached into his Rucksack and plopped down his sword cane, his blow dart set, his King Bolt, his alarm clock; all before the Bartender just gestured that it was fine. The bar tender pulled out a long line of shot glasses and began pouring a dark liquor into all of them.

“IT’S PARTY TIME FOLKS!” Jimmy shouted, grabbing one of the shot glasses and slamming it back. The bartender rolled his eyes, as he had just barely finished pouring it. “SHOTS FOR EVERYBODY.”
Jimmy Ronan
Karmichael Sandoval - HC -
Karmichael's current inventory

-----------------------------------------------------
The Wastes TV Tropes page. Open edit
Plat: If Hench is the monarch I'd willingly accept a life of serfdom.
CP: homie you a rauccous college student why you need a bed time
LMG: Hench is the real enemy of Democracy
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TheTyrantOfTyrus
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What is YOUR meat agenda?
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Leaving the muddy flamingo to sulk with a bottle of rum and three shot glasses all for herself on the patio of the bar. Aryanna the Blackjack walked into the bar, brushing the beads over with her broad bullish shoulders.

When she saw a limping man against the bar and a tremendous bevy of shots. She raked half of them with her unstrung bow off of the bar.

"Bad for your health."
Marshel Vic HC
7 4 8 6 6 4 5

Aryanna Leatherback
9 2 7 2 4 8 5

Charlie Klams
5 4 5 6 8 8 3
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azstarael
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"Got a light?"
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
A large intersection has been reserved as a gathering area, filled with not only more edibles and alcohol, but all manners of small shows and various booths. Acrobats, jugglers, fortune-tellers, game booths, and vendors with some baubles on display are but a few of the sights to see in the torch-lit square. ((These will be conducted via PM, and posted by the player))

Osiris’ Oddities
 
3 Bead Strands, 1 item per player

At first glance, this man appears to be missing his entire face. Once the initial shock has passed, it turns out he’s just been painted with a near-perfect replica of a bare skull. A brief flash of his real teeth assure you this is not the literal face of death itself, but rather a vendor with some very strange-looking trinkets spread on a piece of fine cloth before him.

“Osiris’ Oddities,” he proclaims in a thick, unfamiliar accent, “wonders from distant lands, all with a story of their own. They are hidden to those who would not look death in the eye! Each will choose an owner, they call out in the voices of the dead and I, Osiris, hear them!”


Madame Barlaving’s Palm Reading
 
3 Bead Strands per fortune

A small tent has been erected toward the back of the square, all fluttering, colorful fabric, the interior dimly lit by candles. The woman inside is so heavily wrapped in silk scarves and what is probably costume jewelry, it’s difficult to make out much other than a pair of very large, dark, piercing eyes. They seem to stare into your soul from above a shimmering red kerchief, which conceals most of her face as well. There’s a glint in those eyes as they meet your own- wary or inviting, you’ll never know unless you stop in and take a seat.


Posideon’s Palace-Trinkets and souvenirs from below the waves
 
2 Bead Strand per item

Starfish Crown- A collection of dried starfish and narrow, spiral seashells that form a circlet.

Coral Necklace- Bright coral branches, strung together to form a stately necklace.

Sand Dollar Pendant- A single sand dollar hung from a cord.

Conch Horn- With the right know-how, this makes a loud, deep trumpeting noise when blown into. Without it, you’ll just look like you’re trying to french a big seashell.

Jellyfish Necklace- A small glass bubble, with a perfect replica of a tiny jellyfish in the middle.

Squid Bracelet- A metal bracelet in the shape of a squid, that can wrap around the upper arm or wrist.

Aquarium Necklace- Take a little piece of the ocean wherever you go. Inside is a fish charm, a tiny starfish, a shell, and seaglass pebbles.

Shark Tooth Necklace- A large tooth, hung from a braided cord.

Seahorse Earrings- Carved from green seaglass, each about the size of a penny.


Carnival Games
 
Two Bead Strands per game. PM your roleplay and receive a prize.


Strongman Game- Test your strength against the Pistachio of Power! (strength)
 

This edifice looks like it’s been stored in someone’s basement for the last two hundred years, and who knows? Maybe it has. A twelve-foot tower, covered in lights and interspaced with several ridiculous-looking nut caricatures, is attended by a teardrop-shaped plywood cutout with a long handlebar mustache, standing on pencil-like legs, but boasting impressive muscle builder’s arms with a ridiculous pose to match. “Mustachio!” It belts in a deep, if rather tinny, recorded voice. “Test your strength!”


Arm Wrestling- Can you best the man known simply as Crusher? (strength)
 

Two chairs sit across from each other at a small table. The burly man in one looks to be part ox. Veins bulge from every oversized muscle, most notably those on his massive neck and arms. With a shaved head and intricate, geometric tattoos covering half his face and all of his exposed arms, the man looks like someone who considers wrestling with Mirelurks to be a spitting good time. The sleeves of his shirt have been torn away, as though too small to contain the mass of muscle where a normal human being would keep arms. He cracks massive, meaty knuckles with a look that manages to be both threatening and inviting at the same time.


Shell Table- Are your eyes faster than her hands? (perception)
 
A young, pale girl sits cross-legged on a stool, a table in front of her laid out with four large shells.The grin on the girl’s face as her hands fly back and forth between shells isn’t an entirely pleasant one. “No cheating, no gimmicks,” she promises, hands a blur. She flicks one of the shells up, revealing a large pearl for a split-second, then they’re all back in motion.


Darts- Aim carefully and try not to put anyone’s eye out. (perception)
 
A small target is hung on the back wall of this booth, well and often stabbed by small projectiles. You receive five darts- all must make the bullseye to win.


Hotter than Hades- Chili pepper is a very ironic name. (endurance)
 
There are five bowls filled with colorful peppers spread over this table, and several men and women nearby intermittently chugging beer and sobbing for their mothers. If you can handle one of each: a jalapeno, Spanish chili, habanero, scotch bonnet, and the dreaded ghost pepper, you’re made of heartier stuff than most, and incredibly brave (or stupid). Upon entering this challenge, you release the city of N’awlins from all liability in regards to capsaicin burns and irritated bowels.


Game of Hearts- Can you win Belle’s over? (charisma)
 
An absolutely bewitching young woman is flanked on either side by two massive, very surly-looking men who can’t be mistaken for anything other than bodyguards. At the moment, she’s being spoken to by a very earnest-sounding young man, her eyes glazed with boredom. In short order, she flaps her hand dismissively, and the young gent is firmly pushed away. Make her smile, you may earn a kiss (and some other prize too, probably).


Riddle Me This- the game of wits (intelligence)
 
The elderly black woman sitting behind the table looks entirely bored by the proceedings, as though she’s seen it all too many times to count. Considering her age, it’s a fair bet. Whatever the case, she has a stockpile of riddles to share- answer three correctly to win. ((Riddles will be sent via PM))


Brain Tease- Metal puzzles (intelligence)
 
There are three strange-looking contraptions laid out, a tangle of entwined metal bars that somehow, you’re assured, will come apart with the right movements. You have ten minutes to separate and reattach them all- try not to blow a head-gasket in the process.


Jacob’s Ladder- Test your balance and try not to crack your head open. (agility)
 
Two rope ladders stand side by side at an upward angle, their wooden rungs swaying lightly in the breeze. Two friends are prepared to race to the top; they each get about three rungs up before the ladders twist upside down and dump them both to the ground. The man handing out prizes laughs, and scuttles to the top without using his hands, proving definitively that it can, in fact, be done. He makes his way back to the ground in the same fashion, then waits for any further takers.


Rock Wall- For those who want to channel their inner spider monkey. (agility)
 
Stretching a good thirty feet into the air, this rickety-looking contraption is dotted with ‘stones’ of varying shapes and sizes. Word is there used to be a safety harness of sorts; that rope and pulley system rotted away long ago, and is substituted with a large net at the bottom. Several of the protrusions are barely the size of a silver dollar, others are loose and prone to spinning at the least opportune time. There’s a bell at the top- reach it and give it a ring to prove your merit.


Ring Toss- No real skill? It wouldn’t do much for you anyway. (luck)
 
A counter sits in front of a large collection of closely-packed bottles, a handful of small rings sitting on the top. The object is to get them all around a bottleneck, but the size of the rings and closeness of the bottles make it trickier than it sounds. Five rings, five tries, make them all to win the grand prize.


Rubber Ducky Grab- A child-sized plastic pool filled with rubber ducks. (luck)
 
Where all these bathtoys came from is anyone’s guess. At least a hundred bob serenely, a rubber rainbow of color on the water. Most are worth nothing, a select few have a red dot on the bottom.
Spike, level 5 (Hardcore Mode)
S:4 P:9(-1) E:7 C:2 I:4(-1) A:10(+1) L:5
Perks
Finesse | Small Frame | Chem Reliant
Equipment:
Switchblade | Rudimentary revolver | x5 Throwing Knives (GC) | Scary Terry Knife Gauntlet
Armor:
Duster coat (Poor Condition)
Reputation
Bucket Town (-30)
Claw (Companion)
S:2 P:7 E:9 C:3 I:9 A:8 L:2
Perks
Jinxed | Hunter| Marksman
Equipment
Junk flinger | Kitchen knife (Poor Condition)
Armor
Desert Clothing (Poor Condition)
Nicholas Stahley, level 1
S.4 P.8 E.3 C.6 I.8 A.4 L.7
Perks
Improv Artist | Perfectionist | Fast Learner
Equipment
Homemade Shotgun | Zip Gun
Armor
Dirty Pre-war Clothes
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Skyhawk347
Wastelander
[ *  *  *  * ]
Hawkins was impressed by the young boy's political savvy. He himself wasn't the best when it came to politics and had no desire to become a politician. Well, may be he wouldn't mind becoming say, a sheriff, like his mother for a while. But him running for mayor? That idea was right out.

"Alright then." Hawkins' perpetual smile grew a bit wider and he extended his hand out for Blue Collins to shake. "Partners."

After the handshake, the older of the two blondes got up from his seat and said. "You know, we might as well enjoy Mardi Gras while we're here. I hear there are some carnival games out there that are offering prizes. I don't know what those prizes are, but I want to try them. Wanna come?"
Ryan Hawkins - Level 1
SPECIAL: 5, 8, 7, 3, 6, 9, 3
Equipment: "Talon" (customized rifle), handyman's auto revolver (PC), knife, throwing knives x5, duster coat (desert camo), tan wide-brimmed hat, biker goggles, blue bandana, blue jeans, gloves, gecko-skinned boots
21 years old, 6'1" and wiry; boyish face with shaggy blonde hair, grey eyes, and a mutilated left ear (upper part has been bitten off)
Traits: Scatterbrained, Small Frame
http://s3.zetaboards.com/The_wastes/topic/9048978/1/

Companion
Blue Collins - Level 3



thefortunepsker: Youre like
thefortunepsker: What we need
thefortunepsker: In the cbox dynamic
thefortunepsker: A straight man

JewsphGordonLevitt: I need to get in my writing zone, so activate my thot powers

thefortunepsker: skyhawks like the old man of the cbox
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Blue Collins
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Head raider
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Skyhawk347
Feb 27 2018, 06:11 AM
Hawkins was impressed by the young boy's political savvy. He himself wasn't the best when it came to politics and had no desire to become a politician. Well, may be he wouldn't mind becoming say, a sheriff, like his mother for a while. But him running for mayor? That idea was right out.

"Alright then." Hawkins' perpetual smile grew a bit wider and he extended his hand out for Blue Collins to shake. "Partners."

After the handshake, the older of the two blondes got up from his seat and said. "You know, we might as well enjoy Mardi Gras while we're here. I hear there are some carnival games out there that are offering prizes. I don't know what those prizes are, but I want to try them. Wanna come?"
"I would," Blue Collins says as he gets up. "Let's do this."

OOC: Sorry for the one-liner.
Endymion 'Endy' Soap - Level 1

Flame Collins - Temporarily Seperate from Blue - Level 3

Shintaro Kanzaki - Level 1
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Blue Collins
Member Avatar
Head raider
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Blue goes to the Old Black Woman, awkwardly clad in his new duster, and hands over two strings of beads. The boy says, "This much for three riddles, right?"

"Aye, sonny," the old woman replies, swiftly stashing the strands. "You're interested in old Bernice's riddles, eh? Let's pose an easy one first." A very small smile appears on her face. "What can run, but never walks, has a mouth, but never talks? Has a bed, but never sleeps, has a head, but never weeps?"

“What,” she goes on, “is better than all the Gods of old, all of the knowledge t’was ever told? Worse than our world lying in ruin, the beating desert sun at noon? Dead people eat it always, live people who eat it die slowly.”

“Lastly, boy,” she rasps out, “we are very little creatures, all of us have different features. One of us in glass is set, another you will find in jet. One of us you’ll catch in tin, another still is boxed within. If fifth and sixth you would pursue, they can never fly from you.”

Blue nods then gave it some thought. "The first is easy; a River. The second is..." he furrowed his head. "Earth...wait, no, Nothingness!" A frown. "The third are A,E,I,O,U - Vowels! Thanks!"

Quote:
 
You win- A Rubix Cube



Bernice cackles loudly. "Very good, boy! We are most impressed!" Her smile is more genuine as she hands over a small plastic cube, broken into nine smaller squares on each side. "A handheld puzzle, for a lad who has a head for them!"

Blue nods, "Thank you, Ma'am."
Endymion 'Endy' Soap - Level 1

Flame Collins - Temporarily Seperate from Blue - Level 3

Shintaro Kanzaki - Level 1
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