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| The Penultimate Soccer Rivalry; Everton v Port Vale it is decided | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 6 2013, 08:05 PM (1,070 Views) | |
| Midnight Rider | Dec 6 2013, 08:05 PM Post #1 |
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The Super Cereal
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(Alright its a standard showdown, to the death or when it goes inactive whichever happens first. The setting is Bucket town, and as all showdowns take place within reality other characters can witness and see the destruction.) The mood was lively in Bobo's Bar and the usual stench of stale beer and staler vomit had been replaced with holiday cheer and stale egg nog. It seems Christmas had come early for Bobo and the patrons at Bobo's bar by extension. In a stroke of fantastic luck for the bartender he had acquired an old working television and was playing some classic sports tapes he borrowed from Finn. Amos hadn't seen much soccer but he took a liking to the Port Vale F.C. They had a can do spirit and prevale-ing-ness that Amos could immediately relate to unlike the privileged Everton lot. The crowd was pretty divided already. They were 6 egg nogs and 2 matches deep already. Amos made his way down to the hip cool Port Vale side of the bar, away from the ugly smelly Everton crowd. He grabbed some chips off the counter and stared intently at the screen. "These Everton players have had it, I don't even know why they showed up!" on of the Port Vale drunks said. "This is as lame as a Fallout teaser site that can't even wait until the timer runs down before posting a trolling youtube video." "Look at this Everton player flop," another chimed in. "I've seen girls at Madam Roses that were less willing to go down on cue!" This all got a good laugh from the Port Vale crowd as they tossed bits of trash at the Everton side of the bar. It was as if they were saying, what are you posers going to do about it. |
![]() Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation. Lmgthev: MBP is handsome LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire. | |
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| lonesomedrifter | Dec 6 2013, 08:33 PM Post #2 |
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Sexual Magneto
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Jonathan pushed his way through the crowd to the front. Bobo's bar had become, for the night, the only place in the wasteland with any Christmas cheer. Jonathan didn't care much for Christmas, but damn did he like egg nog. The bartender had managed to acquire a television from some place and was playing some old sports tapes he had got from Finn’s. Jonathan was starting to like this “football” game. It didn't seem as physically gruelling as pushball, Jonathan felt like it was a game that he could play. The match that was on now was the best so far. Two teams, Everton vs. Port Vale. Jonathan had taken a strange liking to Everton. Their motto, at least according to a ghoul at the bar, was “nothing but the best is good enough.” And this Port Vale team were gonna need their best to even stand a chance against Everton’s outstanding team. Jonathan found himself a seat on the classy and sophisticated Everton side of the bar, away from the plebs on the Port Vale side. The assholes on the other side of the bar piped up with some shitty trash talk. Jonathan felt some sort of loyalty to the team he had just discovered, and felt like he had to defend them against these attacks. He turned to the guy next to him and talked in an extremely loud voice so the whole bar could hear. “What do you call a Port Vale fan with half a brain?” He began. "I don't know." The man replied. “Gifted.” The punch line brought a round of laughs around the cool half of the bar. Jonathan glanced across at the other side of the bar thinking, what are ya gonna do now, punks |
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Edward Fairfax The III Level: 2 SPECIAL: 3.7.3.9.7.8.3. Armour:Crude Post-War formal outfit, Breaking Bad Chem Suit Weapons: The Phazer, Lead Pipe, Golden Glory (Tier 1 GC Revolver) Inventory: Courtroom Lunch, Afterburner Gum, Bricklayer's Fan Package Rebecca Delacroix Level: 2 SPECIAL: 7.8.4.8.4.4.5 Armour: Duster Coat Weapons: Homemade Shotgun, Hatchet Perks: Guardian Angel Misc: Medicine Bottle (Mixed), Blonde Wig +15 BT Reputation | |
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| Midnight Rider | Dec 7 2013, 11:52 AM Post #3 |
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The Super Cereal
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Amos was feeling pretty good at this point. His first egg nog went down real smooth, coating his throat with a viscous mixture of awesomeness. The bar was warm from the comradery and the alcohol and despite the fact that it was fucking Christmas time outside it wasn't a complete sea of assholes in the bar. Of course there was a big exception to that claim over at the Everton side of the bar, but they couldn't keep Amos from feeling good. In fact he felt so good he started ordering drinks two at a time, double fisting them down. The crowd started to make a game of it. "DRINK, DRINK, DRINK, DRINK, DRINK!!" They shouted in unison as Amos downed round after round. Port Vale was on the tv, rum was in Amos's stomach and all was well. But then, oh no, the prisses over on the Everton side had to crack wise. Calling the Port Vale fans retarded and some such bullshit. That's the kind of assholish behavior you'd expect from the entitled Everton crowd, what with their money and successful sports team. They had no heart, just a bunch of fair weather jagoffs. "Hey you fucking fairies!" Amos shouted. "I got a joke for you. What's the difference between Everton and a whorehouse? One is a bunch of people that suck dicks for money and the other is a whorehouse!" With that Amos grabbed the nearest glass and broke it on the bar. The mug shattered into many pieces sending bits everywhere like confetti and ruining a good many open drinks by contaminating them with glass shards. Amos grabbed the jagged bits still attached to the handle and held it up to threaten the other side. "Next one of you gay boys knocks the people's champ that is Port Vale will be shitting sideways from now on!" |
![]() Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation. Lmgthev: MBP is handsome LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire. | |
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| lonesomedrifter | Dec 7 2013, 12:52 PM Post #4 |
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Sexual Magneto
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Jonathan got in another round of egg nog and settled down near the bar. The bar grew hotter and louder as more people entered. The new crowd then split after a few minutes around the television, the cool people staying on the Everton side, the dorks going to the Port Vale side. Jonathan had ordered some radroach meat, which went surprisingly well with the egg nog. “DRINK DRINK DRINK!” The Port Vale side began to chant. They didn't have the sophistication that the Everton crowd did. Jonathan leaned back and attempted to catch a glimpse of the retarded monkey that was keeping the Port Vale fans entertained. But the crowd was too thick, and the game was too interesting. One of the Port Vale fans stepped up and told some shitty joke about Everton, the slurred words made Jonathan think it was the monkey from earlier. Jonathan could have just let it go, but then the man took it too far. The sound of a mug breaking sounded through the bar, distracting everyone from the game that Everton was surely going to win. The retard was holding the jagged remains of the mug and using it to threaten the classy Everton supporters. "Next one of you gay boys knocks the people's champ that is Port Vale will be shitting sideways from now on!" The man yelled. Silence took over the bar, and the atmosphere grew tense. Everyone’s eyes were locked on the man, their mouths shut, waiting to see what happened next. Jonathan looked between the man and the excellent Everton crowd. “You’re trapped in a room with an angry Yao Guai, a hungry hellcat and a fan of Port Vale. You have a gun with two bullets. What should you do?” The crowd replied with silence. “Shoot the Port Vale fan…twice.” The Everton crowd erupted in laughter. Jonathan grabbed a nearby beer bottle and in one smooth movement, smashed it on the bar. He eyed the idiotic man suspiciously, awaiting his next move. |
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Edward Fairfax The III Level: 2 SPECIAL: 3.7.3.9.7.8.3. Armour:Crude Post-War formal outfit, Breaking Bad Chem Suit Weapons: The Phazer, Lead Pipe, Golden Glory (Tier 1 GC Revolver) Inventory: Courtroom Lunch, Afterburner Gum, Bricklayer's Fan Package Rebecca Delacroix Level: 2 SPECIAL: 7.8.4.8.4.4.5 Armour: Duster Coat Weapons: Homemade Shotgun, Hatchet Perks: Guardian Angel Misc: Medicine Bottle (Mixed), Blonde Wig +15 BT Reputation | |
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| Midnight Rider | Jan 11 2014, 07:05 PM Post #5 |
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The Super Cereal
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Amos held the jagged mug in one hand while his free arm reached behind the bar and got a proper drink, whiskey. The heat of the room was getting oppressive with the tv and the crowd. The soccer players continued on the screen oblivious to the actual goings on in the audience. The tough as nails working class heros on the Port Vale side were getting jumpy and the tension was so thick you could cut it. Amos took this time to grab the end of the whiskey bottle with his teeth and yank out the cork. The refreshing liquor went well with the frilly liqueur everyone was drinking before. Amos thought about offering some to to the Everton fans but it would be a waste of good spirits. The Everton fans could drink whiskey about as well as a Port Vale fan could diversify his investment portfolio. That is to say they were fairy men, a pack of puffs and braggarts. Those accurate observations Amos made only heightened the unintentional hilarity of an Everton fan talking about using a gun. Amos joined in the laughter of the Everton crowd and invited the Port Vale side to do the same. This made the bar scene even more awkward, the time was ripe for action. "Funny, hearing you everton fans talking about guns," Amos boasted. "The last piece you all got your fingers around was your boyfriend's." The Port Vale side erupted in laughter but that seemed to be the final straw for the Everton crowd. The man in front of him with the broken beer bottle locked his eyes with Amos and as the two of them drew closer to do their dance the Everton side poured over to brawl with Port Vale. The Port Vale fans grabbed hasty bar weapons and readied themselves for battle against Everton. It was a sea of pool cues and jagged glass. At the epicenter of this struggle Amos and the Everton drunk squared off with one another. Amos tossed the mug from hand to hand to show off his agile finger work. Amos stayed mobile constantly shifting left and right to try and find an opening on his opponent. He made a few quick jabs with his mug going for tender spots of soft meat on his opponent. Amos was one of the fastest men alive and he was going to show this fighter what a mistake he made. Sure the drunk could have backed down but the truth was his fate was sealed the moment he cheered for Everton. Amos was going to make a new Port Vale banner from this asshole's spleen. |
![]() Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation. Lmgthev: MBP is handsome LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire. | |
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| lonesomedrifter | Jan 12 2014, 07:01 PM Post #6 |
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Sexual Magneto
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Jonathan eyed the Port Vale crowd carefully. After a momentary delay, they joined in the laughter. The situation had become very awkward. The Port Vale crowd were obviously too dim to understand the joke, but joined in the laughter so they didn’t feel left out. What a bunch of pretentious pricks, Jonathan thought. The laughter slowly died down, leaving what would have been an uncomfortable silence, but the match continued blaring in the background. Rugged voices with unfamiliar accents commenting on every action of the Everton players as they easily brushed past the Port Vale defence. The Port Vale pack herded behind the drunk from earlier. He must’ve been elected as the smartest moron on their side. He made an unfunny joke about Everton fans. The poor lad, at least he was trying. The Port Vale crowd, being of bad taste and worse humour, broke into fits of laughter which echoed around the bar. The silent Everton side watched carefully. While, they easily could have defeated the opposition in a verbal confrontation, sometimes, you just have to slap a bitch. Within a second, the bar changed from a tense silence to a violent brawl. The Everton crowd charged the cowardly Port Vale fans, and, amid the sounds of stamping fight, breaking glass and yelling, Jonathan heard the commentator yell “GOAL”, Jonathan assumed it was for Everton, as Port Vale couldn’t even pass the ball, never mind score. Jonathan found himself in the eye of the hurricane, along with the head moron from Port Vale. The two circled each other, eyes locked. The moron tossed his makeshift weapon from hand to hand. He jabbed quickly at Jonathan, but Jonathan reacted quickly. He stumbled backward clumsily, dodging the first few strikes, but the last left a long cut across the back of his hand. Jonathan tripped over a badly-placed stool and fell to the floor. He got back to his feet and prepared to attack. Jonathan might have let the man go, but he just left a scar across his drinking hand. Jonathan kicked the stool across the floor, aiming to knock over the agile moron. Jonathan charged with his broken beer bottle. He swung for the man’s arms, attempting to disarm him, and then jabbed at the man’s stomach with his free hand. He backed away and awaited the idiot’s reply. |
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Edward Fairfax The III Level: 2 SPECIAL: 3.7.3.9.7.8.3. Armour:Crude Post-War formal outfit, Breaking Bad Chem Suit Weapons: The Phazer, Lead Pipe, Golden Glory (Tier 1 GC Revolver) Inventory: Courtroom Lunch, Afterburner Gum, Bricklayer's Fan Package Rebecca Delacroix Level: 2 SPECIAL: 7.8.4.8.4.4.5 Armour: Duster Coat Weapons: Homemade Shotgun, Hatchet Perks: Guardian Angel Misc: Medicine Bottle (Mixed), Blonde Wig +15 BT Reputation | |
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| Midnight Rider | Jan 26 2014, 07:06 PM Post #7 |
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The Super Cereal
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The bar brawl was in full force, the weak willed Everton crowd actually thought the had a chance against the stalwart Port Vale supporters. On the tv in the bar the match had been halted temporarily for a soccer riot of their own. It seemed that the Port Vale fans were getting behind their team and kicking the teeth of the Everton sissies. Those were fans that knew that the scoreboard was just one measure of success. If you could make someone feel bad for having a different opinion than you than you have won that day. Amos saw that scene unfold and it filled him with courage. Unfortunately, being filled with courage doesn't do much good if you're ignoring a drunk charging at you. Amos looked down in time to miss the bar stool coming at him. That was a simple side step but he couldn't recover in time to block the man's disarming move. Amos broken glass went flying as the Everton puff tried to get in at his insides. The man was clearly not a knife fighter, his movements were sloppy and his approach incorrect, you never come from above. Amos deflected the first couple blows and backed up to give himself room. That's when Amos stepped on the bar stool from earlier. His bad luck picked an inopportune time to bite him in the ass. Amos went down like a sack of potatoes and hit the floor hard. Half dazed from severely thinned thinned blood and gravity he instinctively kicked at the Everton drunk to get him to back away. That move seemed to buy him some time and Amos groped around on the floor for something to help him. He found a broken bit of a pool cue and used it to help himself up. Amos was pissed and this fight was going to get settled. He arose to his feet only to get shoved hard by a cowardly Everton fan looking to get a cheap shot in. The fairy picked a poor target. In a rage Amos slammed the pool cue into him, jagged point first. The drunk grasped the end of the stick, as if he was trying to pull it out. Blood started to come out of his mouth and the man keeled over after a few moments. That got Amos's adrenalin going, this shit was majorly fucked up. His opponent wasn't done with him though, they still had a beef to settle. Amos nodded to the dead man, as if to say silently, "You still want to do this?" The man's reply didn't matter, Amos was already in too deep. Without a weapon he was going to have to get creative and then he remembered the bowl of eggnog. In a scene that reminded him heavily of his last trip to La Ranchero, Amos chucked the viscous white liqueur at the Everton drunk. With the drink as cover he charged in to fight the hopefully disoriented man hand to hand. He wanted to rip the beer bottle out of his hands and kick him hard in the knee. |
![]() Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation. Lmgthev: MBP is handsome LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire. | |
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| lonesomedrifter | Feb 26 2014, 05:02 PM Post #8 |
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Sexual Magneto
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The moron retreated backwards, tripping over a bar stool as he did and crashing into the floor. Jonathan moved in for the finisher but the idiot kicked, catching Jonathan in the knee and sending him rolling back across the bar. Jonathan got to his feet slowly, his knee ached like fuck. This man was in for it now. Jonathan looked around to find himself in a small group of Port Vale pricks. One threw a drunken punch towards Jonathan. He dodged easily and countered with free hand, punching the man hard across the jaw, sending him to the floor and a few of his teeth across the room. The second kneed Jonathan in the back. He fell to the floor in pain, but a heroic Everton supporter saved him with a swift punch. Jonathan stood up just in time for the third man’s attack. He charged towards Jonathan like an angry Yao Guai, Jonathan side-stepped, grabbing the man’s arm and flinging him through the nearby window into the street. The fight was growing quickly, but the Everton supporters remained strong in the face of the evil Port Vale opposition. Jonathan turned back to the crowd, searching for his opponent. He spotted the drunk standing over the body of a heroic Everton man who had been slain in battle. He would be missed. Jonathan narrowed his eyes, keeping them fixed solely on the man. He grabbed the bowl of eggnog and flung it at Jonathan. It flew through the air, blinding Jonathan to the man’s attack. Jonathan swung his bottle wildly. He felt a hard blow in his knee and crumpled to the floor. Jonathan’s eyes cleared and he spun his leg around, attempting to trip the moron. The drunk may have had the intelligence of a chimp, but he had the reflexes of one too. Jonathan got to his feet quickly and scanned his surroundings. He was disarmed and trapped against the front wall of the bar. He grabbed a spear of a fallen comrade and threw it towards the drunk. Jonathan used the few moments of safety he had to push his way through the bar door and outside. The brawl had already begun to spread to outside the bar; Jonathan spotted the man he threw out the window being kicked and punched on the ground by two Everton men. Jonathan stood to the side of the entrance, he knew the moron would follow him, and when he did, Jonathan was gonna get the jump on him. |
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Edward Fairfax The III Level: 2 SPECIAL: 3.7.3.9.7.8.3. Armour:Crude Post-War formal outfit, Breaking Bad Chem Suit Weapons: The Phazer, Lead Pipe, Golden Glory (Tier 1 GC Revolver) Inventory: Courtroom Lunch, Afterburner Gum, Bricklayer's Fan Package Rebecca Delacroix Level: 2 SPECIAL: 7.8.4.8.4.4.5 Armour: Duster Coat Weapons: Homemade Shotgun, Hatchet Perks: Guardian Angel Misc: Medicine Bottle (Mixed), Blonde Wig +15 BT Reputation | |
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| TheTyrantOfTyrus | Apr 2 2014, 07:08 PM Post #9 |
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What is YOUR meat agenda?
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There was a ruckus in town. Terrible noises sounded, rippling from the canvas' of tents, the metal walls of the few shacks that stood, and the ancient walls of the church. The church's white paint was cracked over the wooden planks. It was old. Very, very old. The good book, that was tucked in his inner jacket pocket, was old as well. Archaic, even. Marshel was old, now. Too old. His shoulder ached again, so he stretched it out, once more. His thick fingers rubbed against a section of the Church's wall as he saw men rambling about. They were raging as they appeared to be running from different directions. To the genesis of the stirrings in the middle of town and out to the schisms of the tent city and the inner town. A black charred scar laid on the outside of the church, where flaking burnt pain hung listlessly. He ran his fingers forlornly over the fringes, the flakes drifted away. So, he decided to have a little walk. The town was a different beast. Dirt crunched underfoot, along with glass and bones. Step after step, Marshel took his time walking around the brawling forces of random violence. Soles pounded as hands ripped, teared, clawed, and buffeted. He had his razor and his pistol. And his book. The Bible. It would protect me. He hurried now, it wasn't too far off. He passed by Hooked, owned by Ali and hosted by his stupid little girl, Scratch. He passed by Bobo's as well, it's tables ripped and toppled over their trestles, it's windows broken as blood seemed to be sprayed from everywhere. Of course, there was men as well. Unarmed men took to their fists, while men armed with bottles and knives danced the ballet of blades. Men were trampled to death, as Marshel took his haste more. Here and there, he had to push a man to find his way. Shouts of fury, weeps of pain. Chaos. Madness. These are the monsters that gnaw at the door of peace and happiness. But in the graveyard, it seemed all too peaceful. There was the noises though. They permeated the air, so thick that it seemed to choke the Pastor. Was this a risk, worthy of him? To go directly to the men who probably wanted him in chains? Yes. Yes it was. But it was better than seeing a town inflamed by the violent proclivity of drunkards and junkies. He had passed many graves as he burst through the door with his shoulder first. The Militia were gearing up, as many men were surprised to see a strange man. The barrels of their guns were all that he saw. "I don't know if you know this, but there's a riot out in Bucket Town. I want to help. Have me, or chain me. But it'll be more useful of me to help quell this quarrel." |
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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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| Zilabus | Apr 2 2014, 08:00 PM Post #10 |
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Er'ry day I'm overseein'
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"If you want to be of use you're going to go sit and wait for me to get back." Roy didn't say much else and neither did the rest of his security, although his physical size was imposing even to a larger figure like Marshel. He looked to have strange, heavy gloves on. How he could get anything to fit on his monstrous hands was another mystery all together. Various former pitfighters and even a former patriot or two streamed out to the sides of Marshel. "We have things to talk about." Roy left as well, leaving Marshel for the most part to his own devices, other then a sitting clerk and what looked to be a townsperson sitting with an injured arm. He barely fit through the door. --- Peering out after him you can see the security force spreading out as they head towards Bobos. You can see the bar itself or anything like that, but in the distance you can certainly see a drunk looking straggler approach Roy. You can also see the drunken man jerk pack as small white shards seems to spray out back from his mouth. He slumped over and Roy kept walking. |
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Eli "Slim" Ambrose SPECIAL: 3, 9, 2, 7, 9, 3, 7 Level: 5 Bucket town reputation: -175 Equipment Weaponry: Molotov, Cherry bombs, Combat Knife, Laser pistol, Tack Mines, Smoke grenades, Syringes. Armor:Post-war suit Tattered leather jacket Inventory Homemade shotgun, Gumballs, Bedspread Mentats x3, Psycho x2, Jet x1, Wiskey x2, vodka 4 1/2 x Hides, 15 LSB dollars Appearance Caucasian Very tall, lanky, and slim, jet black hair in a greased into a subdued pompadore style. Dark eyes and a cleanshaven face. Brown Windowpane suit. Kelly "Featherweight" Capozzi | |
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| Midnight Rider | Apr 3 2014, 08:23 AM Post #11 |
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The Super Cereal
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This situation was escalating quickly, but that's how Port Vale fans like it. The bigger the scale the bigger they could prevale. The puffs from Everton showed gumption, these weren't some weekend part time brawlers, these niggas were hard pipe swinging motherfuckers. That was good because this was going to get really boring if Everton didn't at least try to win. The spirits of the Port Vale side were high and Amos saw that his eggnogged target was blind as fuck. He almost chuckled when he saw the blind man swing his bottle around. The man was fighting like a drunk goat and Amos knocked his knee out from under him and sent him down like a sack of bricks. Eying the man on the ground was sweet, that would hopefully be the last of him. As Amos reached for another drink he realized very quickly how mistaken he was. He was too confident in his abilities and now his ass was kicked to the floor but the gay spin move. The Everton man would pay for that, but not nearly as much as he would have paid if Amos lost his drink. Fortunately he had just hurt himself and not the glass. The Everton fellow had heart, Amos was going to have to break him before he'd stop. With a sigh Amos got back up and scanned the area. woooosssshhhh Amos had only a moment to dodge the man's spear throw. That was a dirty move by the Everton man, Amos would expect nothing less from their type though. Cheating and Everton went together like chocolate pudding and Chinese food. With a solid jerk Amos pried the spear from the wall and looked for the Everton man. The Everton crowd seemed to be dispersing and the man left with them. Outside the snobs from the north side of town seemed to be joining in the fight. With a few exceptions the inside of the bar belonged to Port Vale but outside the enemy was regrouping and growing. If Port Vale was going to have a chance they needed to recruit a little more as well. Amos knew what to do, it was a secret that should only be used in case of emergencies and this was certainly one. He reached behind the counter of the bar and flipped "The Switch." Outside, on the roof of the bar, a neon sign of freedom flickered on. ![]() With that blazing like a torch Port Vale should get some more guys from the south side and the boneyard. That's were the hardworking patriotic Port Vale supporters lived. In the meantime Amos had an Everton man to smash with his spear. Amos psyched himself up with a warcry and charged out after the Everton man. With a spear in one hand and a drink in another he was ready for all comers. He boldly exited the front door ready to deal with a six ton elephant if need be. |
![]() Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation. Lmgthev: MBP is handsome LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire. | |
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| HenchmenF | Apr 3 2014, 11:50 AM Post #12 |
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Wasteland leader
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"Why were you born so beautiful Why were you born at all You're no fucking use to anyone You're no fucking use at all You should be publicly pissed on, You should be publicly shot You should be tied to a urinal, And left there to fester and rot. So, DRINK, DRINK, DRINK, DRINK, DRINK…" The crowd outside of the bar, seemingly oblivious to the chaos and the conflict surrounding them, cheered on a much smaller man in a knee brace chugging hard alcohol through someones nasty and smelly shoe with a bawdy and insulting chant that was following by the rapid stomping of their feet. With a final tip of the shoe; Jimmy Ronan thrust the now empty shoe into the air with a repulsive grin on his face as the crowd cheered wildly. Jimmy had, somehow or another, stumbled across a group of Pushball players here in Buckettown, both teams had played on the outskirts of town and came to BoBos for the post game social. One team from Southern Texas, the "Diablos" played the Northern Texas "Tumbleweeds" in, as Jimmy had found out earlier, a friendly game they play yearly. Jimmy had already been in a drunken stupor before even reaching BoBo's, and partying with the Pushballers certainly did help his sobriety. Jimmy and the drunken pushballers were about to continue their carousing, some bloody idiot in a dumb looking jersey crashed through the front door of BoBo's; knocking into Jimmy. Jimmy's cup flew out of his hand, drenching the immediate area with alcohol. To top that off, the strange man threw several punches; most of them missing. A single punch, however, hit Jimmy in the back of the head. The former loud cheering and conversation between the pushballers vanished. Instead it was replaced by silent deathglares at the strange drunken man. A single punch flew out from behind Jimmy, hitting the small man square in the jaw and knocking him out. The wild cheering resumed with a sudden Blue Pabst Ribbon sign illuminating overhead. "....Theres more booze!" One of the pushballers said and a sudden rush for the door erupted as the Pushballers continued in their quest for more alcohol. Instead they were met with a strange group beating the snot out of another group. A single man with a spear stood in front of the group of twenty-five fit, able and drunk Pushballers. A silent nod was exchanged between Jimmy and the spearman, and with a casual wave of his arm the small army of Pushballers followed him to the bar where cans upon cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon sat ready for consumption. What followed next was savagery as the drinking continued, but, an unexpected ally was gained for those inside of the bar. |
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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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| lonesomedrifter | Apr 3 2014, 03:29 PM Post #13 |
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Sexual Magneto
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The brawl had escalated a lot quicker than anyone could imagine. The heroic Everton side made a brave retreat out onto the street, while the pansy-ass Port Vale-ians remained inside to dig in like the cowards they were. It was up to the Valiant Evertonians to bring some excitement to this fight. They regrouped in the alley next to the bar and laid out their genius plan. “Let’s just run in there and kick their asses.” One said, followed by a humongous cheer as a small neon sign lit above the entrance, advertising Pabst Blue Ribbon. A stampede of muscular rednecks charged through the bar door. From the sound of it, they had joined with the Port Vale princesses. Oh well, the mighty Everton side could still take them. They took up position just outside the door, ready to charge. The door swung open and the main moron stepped out, holding the spear Jonathan had threw earlier. Jonathan instinctively swung for the man, attempting to knock him into the crowd of Everton supporters. The Everton supporters were smart and knew the value of their position. They stayed on the street and attempted to draw the cowards out. Jonathan grabbed a beat-up chair from one of the outside tables and faced the drunk. Sure, he could have forgiven him for the beating, but making fun of the greatest team in the world was just too far. Jonathan charged, sweeping the chair across quickly attempting to catch the man. Jonathan threw the battered old chair at another Port Vale supporter who had followed their drunken leader outside. The crowd grew even more, extending further down the street, almost reaching the corner. The pushballers addition to the twat team had strengthened them significantly; they were still no match for the overall superiority of the Everton side. The crowd began to quieten. A huge, hulking figure approached from the empty end of the street. Is that a super mutant? As the figure came closer, Jonathan recognised him. Oh shit, it was Roy. The crowd began to shake as the man came closer and closer, followed close behind by his security force. Shit had just got real. Sinister music played in Jonathan’s mind as a deafening silence overtook the rioting crowd. A brave Everton fan approached Roy slowly, but as he came within five feet of him, he was overtaken by a fit of vomiting and collapsed on the ground. “Oh shit.” Jonathan muttered to himself. |
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Edward Fairfax The III Level: 2 SPECIAL: 3.7.3.9.7.8.3. Armour:Crude Post-War formal outfit, Breaking Bad Chem Suit Weapons: The Phazer, Lead Pipe, Golden Glory (Tier 1 GC Revolver) Inventory: Courtroom Lunch, Afterburner Gum, Bricklayer's Fan Package Rebecca Delacroix Level: 2 SPECIAL: 7.8.4.8.4.4.5 Armour: Duster Coat Weapons: Homemade Shotgun, Hatchet Perks: Guardian Angel Misc: Medicine Bottle (Mixed), Blonde Wig +15 BT Reputation | |
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| TheTyrantOfTyrus | Apr 10 2014, 07:30 PM Post #14 |
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What is YOUR meat agenda?
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Peering from the precipice of rage and anxiety, Marshel looked upon Roy. He was a massive man, his broad shoulders that spread from horizon to horizon. His uniform stretched so taut that it struggled to allow the Sheriff of Bucket Town to move. About five of the militia took up the rear, armed with club and gun. The Sheriff simply flexed his hands, his leather gloves rippled. Marshel turned over to the clerk and the injured townsman. "Do you have any idea on how this started? I need to help Roy," Maybe that'll get me a pardon. "And I can't do it for here." |
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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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| Midnight Rider | May 19 2014, 04:13 PM Post #15 |
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The Super Cereal
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The fight had grown into an epic tempest of eggnog fueled aggression. Amos was on top of the world as he exited that bar. With a spear in one hand and his trusty beverage in another he was a self appointed barbarian king that feared no man. True to from the gutless Everton supporters ran like a Frenchman from a capgun out of the bar and into the streets. If Amos was going to win he'd need to rout the Everton side before they had a chance to regroup and build their numbers. With the Pabst Blue Ribbon sign on a wave of pushballers joined Amos in his valiant working class struggle. Any Everton fan left inside was knocked out or worse by roughhousing pushball hooligans. Outside the ladies were probably cooking up some kind of plan or scheme, but no amount of scheming was going to make their team suck less. That was the inherent flaw in the Everton strategy, and it was time for Port Vale to settle things. When Amos stepped outside things moved very quickly. A sucker punch clocked Amos upside his head and he went flying into the Everton crowd. This was not good, he was surrounded on all sides by the enemy. Amos grabbed for his spear but he noticed it was stuck. Jiggling it and yanking didn't seem to pry it loose, Amos looked up in time to see the reason why. On the other end of the pointy stick an Everton fan was clutching the pole tightly. It seemed like a bad stroke of luck, but it turned out to be the opposite, the man was impaled by the weapon and was trying to keep Amos from yanking it out, which would cause him to bleed out. The unlucky Everton fan's face turned a shade of white and he started stumbling off towards Maria's clinic. Meanwhile blows came in fast and heavy for Amos. The crowd wasn't playing around and the spear bought him only a moments respite. Things would have gone very badly for Amos except that he had a team as well. While Amos was the first to charge from the bar he was certainly not the only one. Port Vale patriots came charging from Bobo's and bolstered Amos in his heroic struggles outside. The lead gayboy from the Everton side was pretty sure of himself and took this time to attack. With Amos at a momentary disadvantage, surrounded by Everton supporters, the head Everton fighter came at Amos with a metal chair. The only thing that saved Amos was the fact that he was completely surrounded by Everton supporters. The chair clanged off the head of some poor Everton fan dropping the man to the ground. In his frustration the Everton fancy lad through the chair at the Port Vale side. At least he clocked an actual enemy that time. While Port Vale was down a guy the friendly fire gave Amos an opening to slip out of the mob. While he was a bit beaten in the ordeal he had recovered and regrouped with the proud Port Vale supporters. It seemed this guy wanted to go ECW, and there was never a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire when you needed it. The Port Vale team stood tall outside of Bobo's, they had taken the bar and were about to take out the bandwagon Everton fans. Even with the Everton side's recruitment the Port Vale side could take them. Port Vale had heart, and Pabst Blue Ribbon, the drink of champions. Amos was about to lead a coordinated charge when the Everton crowd died down and looked away. Amos recognized the disturbance in the distance, they were some of his old colleagues. Roy was unmistakeable, at his size he was an elephant of a man. Amos noted with some glee that the Everton crowd was shaking at the sight of Roy and his security force. The Port Vale side on the other hand was having some manly anxiety, those fears were manly, unlike anything Everton does. It seemed like luck had switched to favor Port Vale. The defensive line Everton had established was now useless, the team had enemies on both sides. When the cops came to break up the fight the Everton fans would be the first to suffer Roy's wrath. Meanwhile Port Vale would be attacking the Everton side from behind, crushing the little puffs between two armies. Of course Everton could surrender, but that would only prove that Port Vale was the most badass prevaleing team. Its was win win for Port Value, either Everton lost all street cred or they fought an enemy on both sides of them. Just to make sure this didn't end with some gay mediating session Amos ducked behind a couple of tall guys and chucked his drink at the hulking giant. Glancing up to see how he did, Amos watched the bottle arc and break at Roy's feet. A wave of stale beer foam and bots of broken glass stained the man's pants. It looked like Roy had peed himself. With out anyone in particular to blame it on Roy would have to dish out his anger indiscriminately on the crowd, which was perfect for Amos's plans. |
![]() Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation. Lmgthev: MBP is handsome LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire. | |
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