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| Mardi Gras Merriment; A mini-event to celebrate N'awlins | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 15 2018, 12:03 PM (1,648 Views) | |
| azstarael | May 13 2018, 01:39 PM Post #76 |
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"Got a light?"
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[[UPDATE UPDATE Thanks for bearing with me as I continue to be the Actual Worst, and hang in just a little while longer. I've got one response to write, then we'll do a final round or two and call it good for real this time. Thanks again for your patience, y'all are the best.]] |
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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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| Cewebwalz | May 23 2018, 02:10 PM Post #77 |
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Henshin a go-go baby
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"The world ain't right. No right to give you any sort of trouble, fresh faced, off the boat. When I was your age I used to do all sorts of evil shit. Well like, maybe a couple years after I was your age, it's all blurry now." Jesse wasn't even looking at Thomas anymore, lost in his own memories. He turned to the right and he was gone after a moment of silence, having disappeared into the crowd or back into the ether of Jesse's imagination. Winters rolled his eyes and looked for another impressionable young soul to be old and crochety too. |
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Jesse Winters - Penitentiary Pugilist 8(+2).5.7.5.5.8.4, Level: 4 -HC- Grace Van Vliet - Indie Incinerator 5.7.7.5.5.4.7, Level: 3 -HC-
full-sized avatar "What is Adderal, anyhow?" - Funky Fan | |
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| Funkifan | Jun 1 2018, 07:26 AM Post #78 |
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The Cobras' Leader
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As the night shone on, and on, and the redhead enjoyed his night in Mardi Gras, eventually, after minor drinking, Sandra, his hostess, asked him to escort her back to her apartment, on which Edgar was staying too. She was tired and had finally given in to the booze, just like the doctor. Excusing himself, the wobbly, dizzy redhead and the ghoul woman made their way through the stone path of Crescent Top, which had fortunately cleared somewhat from all the crowd, that had once filled the area with dance and laughter. It took them a while and after a couple of near falls to reach the building, more hardship awaited as both made their way upstairs. Finally, Edgar opened the door of the apartment, and helped Sandra inside, leaving her on a fancy sofa, for her to rest. As she quickly fell asleep, the redhead decided to return with Alida, feeling that he had to properly say goodbye before he too ended up on Morpheus arms. Making his way to the outside once more, Edgar soon found himself lost, unable to remember the exact way through which to return back to his newfound friends. He walked through narrow streets of cobblestone, yet his tired mind could not find the path. Eventually, he ended up hearing a loud voice nearby, that spoke of wonders on distant lands, and that he could hear the voices of ghosts that called forth, choosing an owner, or something along those lines. Probably, some kind of storyteller, he mused. Indeed, after following it, his heart almost stopping as he ended up facing a skeleton face to face, taking him a moment, and a smile from the vendor, to realize that he was the same one he had seen before heading out with Alida, except that it was not any kind of puppet, or a robot, indeed, a very real person. He blinked a few times, his mouth wide open, as he gazed forth at the amazing paint that had transformed the man's face completely. "Ahh... soorryyy sir! Waaas... uh..." The redhead made a caravan, almost falling forward as he did so, his eyes looking at the assortment of interesting items that still laid in front of the man, although only a few were left. He offered a smile, as he scratched the back of his head. "Uhh... can... coooulld you... reaad sooomee of thoose f-for me sir? P-Pleaase? Like you weree sayiing you woouulld?" He reached for his bead collar, and offered it whole towards the man. [-5 Beads] "Thaaank youu sirr..." The redhead took a seat on the front of the man, crossing his legs, and looking up, guessing that he would hear a story or something of the like. "Alsooo youuur faaacee looks suuppeer coool with that paaaint!" He exclaimed. From the moment Edgar approaches, Osiris' expression began to shift. First mildly confused, then concerned, he stares at the young doctor with a look of utter astonishment and horror on his face. "Never mind any of that," Osiris hisses, "I hear them screaming, shrieking for freedom- gods above, boy, do you have any idea what you hold in your possession?" He motions frantically at Edgar's pack, eyes wide and teeth bared. "The book," he hisses. "Give me the book. Quickly!" Edgar waited, with his hands hanging to his sides, looking dead-eyed into the vendor, or what he thought at least was the vendor. Soon enough, however, his attitude changed from being apparently confused to be terrified, apparently, at Edgar, claiming that he could hear the voices of something, then, aimed a finger a trembling finger at him, crying out about the book that he carried on his backpack. The redhead quickly stood up, giving a couple of steps back, now frightened too, at Osiris' orders of him to give him the book. What was he talking about? Heck, what was he so afraid of? While of course, he had noticed that the book was bound in some kind of skin tissue, which made the ordeal of looking through it quite uncomfortable for Edgar, and the strange texts speaking of him being able to summon Central American demigods, was just plain nonsense. Then it dawned unto him. How was he able to know of his book if it was tucked away on his backpack? A cold sweat began to run down his back, as he stared at the man, and placed his hands on the front of him, now also sharing the man's terror. How could he know? Could he really talk with ghosts? His mind tried, but the stupor couldn't let him think clearly. There was just something not right here, and he wasn't too sure what was it. Maybe, just maybe, Osiris was right. Reaching into his backpack, he threw the book at the vendor, which landed by his feet, before reaching into his pocket and grasping his weapon, although not drawing it yet. "What the heck you taaalking aaaboout!?" He cried out, as he frowned, ready to taze the man if he tried to attack him or run away with his book, wanting to know what exactly was he speaking of, and why he was so terrified. He wanted answers, and the truth. "Teeell me noow!" Osiris stares at Edgar with another flash of utter disbelief. "You know not," he speaks low, quiet, as though afraid of being overheard. "This is a small glimmer of good fortune, but how long until they find one who does?" The whites of his eyes are huge in their painted sockets. "That is an artifact of great power, TERRIBLE power. Make no mistake," he seems to loathe to get any closer, "I do not desire it for my own. None who understand would, unless they mean to wreak a catastrophe, the likes of which I could not say. These are old spirits, boy, and more dangerous than you can comprehend." He sighs in frustration, holding both hands out, a small tremble visible through his fingers. "I cannot explain unless you agree," he states, almost frantically. "The book, give me the book!" The redhead glared at the man, now pretty sure that he was completely nuts. The book was right there, a couple feet in front of the vendor. It was only a matter of Osiris picking it up, yet he seemed terrified to move a muscle. Unsure if he could trust him, his vision went towards the book, as Osiris spoke of the book holding great evil inside, yet clarifying that he did not desire the dark power it held. As this was revealed to Edgar, he decided to move in closer, taking the book once more and handed it to him, still wary of what could happen, or if he was trying to trick him into giving up the item. "Noooo tricks..." He warned the man, with slurred words. "He worries of tricks at a time like this," Osiris muttered, seeming to address someone at his side, though no one else had approached. "If only it were something so paltry." Snatching the book, a nauseated look fell over him, as though he's just accepted a chunk of rancid meat. Osiris sets it down quickly, then reaches below the table and takes out a small, unassuming hinged black box. Several strange marks are carved into the surface of what appears to be stone, so dark and glossy it reflects the torchlight like oil. He opens the container, pulling out what appears to be some form of leash or collar. A perfect disk of stone, the same material as the box, intricately covered in the same unreadable language is set with metal clasps to the collar. Itself made of ancient, incredibly-preserved leather, yet more runes have been burned into the surface. "I can not guess, nor do I wish to, how this came into your hands." Osiris seems to be steeling himself for something highly unpleasant. "All you can know, all you WANT to know, is this is no mere book. The story of the Ancients, men of rituals and magic, the gods who once walked among them, are many, and there is no time for that now." As if handling a highly venomous snake, Osiris carefully slips the collar around the book, cinching it tightly. Both hands cupped over the black stone, he chants something too quiet to make out, though it doesn't seem to be any language native to the area. Nothing appears to happen, but there is a brief, almost imperceptible pulse of energy, sending the hairs on Edgar's arms and neck straight up. Osiris breathes a sigh of relief, pushing the book back with the same look of revulsion. "For your sake, and all those you care for, leave the seal unbroken," he says, voice suddenly exhausted. "You must find a shaman, one connected to the realms of both living and dead," he insists, "one far more powerful than I. Any worthy to help will know that foul relic immediately- any who are not, but possess knowledge of its power, you will be helpless to stand against regardless." He breathes out a short huff, grasping Edgar's hand briefly. "Walk tall in the blessing of your ancestors, and Godspeed." As Osiris releases him, something is left in Edgar's palm. Before the doctor can so much as open his mouth, the strange man is in motion, apparently packing up for the evening. In what seems like a mere instant, he's collected his trinkets and stowed them away. Glancing down, Edgar sees in his hand-
Upon looking up, Osiris has vanished without a trace. Edgar was left with his mouth agape, unsure of what had happened, as he held the book and the vial of sparkling water on his hands. He had felt that energy surge, as the hairs on his neck and arms were still upright, yet, he still wasn't sure about the truth of Osiris' words. Then again, what was the point of lying, if he had returned the book, and taken up the time to apparently put some kind of collar on top of it. His reaction also seemed sincere, not an act, which also had left him thinking. For now, he guessed that it was best to heed his advice. After all, if this book held an evil power inside, he couldn't allow for it to fall into the wrong hands, under any circumstance. But, where on Earth would he find a shaman to tell him how to dispose of it? Or what he had to do to eliminate the evil power it could have? |
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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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11:32 AM Jul 11