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| Staredown; LD and Plat | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 11 2015, 12:17 PM (622 Views) | |
| Platon | Sep 11 2015, 12:17 PM Post #1 |
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The Prophet of Toast
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White sunlight shone brightly through the tent flap - making blurred silhouettes of the patrons as they straggled sleepily to their seats. A fetid stench of spilled beer and sour cigar smoke choked the atmosphere in a thick mist, with desert dust dancing in the air. It was by no means a classy pub - the old party tent with its grimy, carpet-covered floor where the drunkards lounged on filthy mattresses and stools. Unsuccessful trappers were the dominant element, but there were wash-ups and losers from all corners of the wasteland. Malnourished caravan porters whose young dreams had been crushed by poverty and labor, drowsy hunters whose old age made them inadequate and mutated radiation victims who were shunned by normal society. And the frail, balding ghoul by the counter was more miserable than all - because he was the only one without drinks to drown his anguish with. This ghoul, whose name by the way was Herman, had come crawling to this outskirt of Bucket Town to seek shelter from the midday sun. But what was originally supposed to have been a five minute rest quickly escalated to an afternoon of procrastination as the depressing indifference grabbed him by the throat. And now he was lounging lazily on his stool, half-hoping for the bartender to give him a drink just so that he'd leave. |
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Herman Higueras -HC- Appearance Scrawny, dark-colored ghoul. Black patches of hair, lacking an upper lip. Equipment Armor: Packrat's Clothing. Weapons: Phazer, Switchblade. Level: 3 Jarmuk Level: 2 Isaac -HC- - Mayor of Bucket Town ______________________________________________________________ The Platon | |
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| lonesomedrifter | Sep 12 2015, 08:43 AM Post #2 |
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Sexual Magneto
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Edward nursed his beer as he watched the early morning sunlight breaking into the tent. A drunken old man beside wittered on about the “good old days” but Edward ignored him. He nodded and smiled in just the correct ratio to keep to the conversation going in the old man’s mind so he’d keep buying beer. Edward’s mind was elsewhere. He thought of all the awful events that had led him to this bar. The slavers, his first kill, the trial, they didn't seem too bad now. After a few months learning how to live in the wasteland, he’d come to terms with what he’d done. They were still terrible things and he still regretted them, but he knew that they were necessary. “And then he jumped off the bridge and I haven’t seen him since.” Said the man, chuckling to himself as he came to the end of the story. He drained the dregs of his beer and tossed a hide to Edward. “Get a round in, I'm going for a piss.” Edward watched the man clamber up from his stool and stumble through the tent flap before grabbing the hide and turning towards the counter. He exchanged the hide for two more room temperature beers. As he walked away from the counter, he tripped on the leg of a stool and the beers slipped from his hands, emptying their contents into the lap of a skinny ghoul at the bar. “Whoops.” Edward said half-heartedly. |
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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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| Platon | Sep 13 2015, 01:14 PM Post #3 |
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The Prophet of Toast
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"Fuck, man!" Herman's response was quick - a furious twitch that sent him jerking out of the chair and onto his feet. The sound of bottles crashing was enough to turn the head of one or two drunkards, who laughed when they saw the big wet stain on his tattered trousers. All day long Herman had wanted a beer. Now he did, and it was all over him. Had it happened to anyone else he would have given the whole situation a laugh; instead of the furious scowl that made blue veins swell on his leathery face. He was angry, and decided to project all that anger on the pretty-boy in front of him. He hadn't even apologized for dropping his drinks, the limey bastard. "You think this is funny?!" he sputtered, far more nasally and high-pitched than he had imagined in his head. "I don't need this kind of shit, you sand-snorting cretin: do you even know who I am?! Cough up some hides or I will fuck you up like you've never been fucked up before!" It was an empty lie of course. Herman was one of the unfortunate few fighters in the world who could smack a fly and end up breaking all the bones in his hand. But the nerdy rage in his veins was so great that he actually believed his own words. |
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Herman Higueras -HC- Appearance Scrawny, dark-colored ghoul. Black patches of hair, lacking an upper lip. Equipment Armor: Packrat's Clothing. Weapons: Phazer, Switchblade. Level: 3 Jarmuk Level: 2 Isaac -HC- - Mayor of Bucket Town ______________________________________________________________ The Platon | |
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| lonesomedrifter | Oct 24 2015, 08:21 AM Post #4 |
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Sexual Magneto
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The ghoul was hideous; weeping sores and patches of dead flesh covered his face. His personality matched his appearance. He shot up and knocked back the stool. He brought himself in close to Edward. Edward felt the man’s rotten breath on his face as he launched into a tirade. Edward inched back and raised his hands. Then the bastard went too far. Cretin. Who did this decrepit bag of puss and bones think he was? Edward would show him who the cretin was. This horrible pipsqueak needed to learn a lesson. Edward lifted his shoulders and adjusted his waistcoat. He straightened his back and used the height difference to tower over the hunched zombie that stood before him. “Excuse me sir.” Edward said, letting the s hiss out, bringing silence to the room. “I believe you don’t know to whom you speak. I am no cretin; I am Edward Fairfax the Third of Maidstone. You are just an imbecile. While I did intend to apologise, you decided to insult my character. I am offended and shocked, by not just your foul language, but also your breath. I have but my one recourse.” Edward lacked a glove and settled for simply slapping the fool. “I challenge you to a duel.” |
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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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| Platon | Oct 29 2015, 01:48 PM Post #5 |
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The Prophet of Toast
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There was a mushy, wet kind of noise as the hand came clashing against the dead slab of meat that was Herman's cheek. His head jerked in the direction of the slap. His eyes widened with shock. No words were spoken; the whole bar held their collective breath intensely. He turned slowly, shoulders trembling with he volcanic rage that bubbled behind his gritted teeth. He raised a finger threateningly, as if about to give the snob a piece of his mind. But he choked down on the words and closed the finger into a fist. Dead veins had swollen on his temples like thick ropes. If anger had a face; it wouldn't be too different from Herman's. "Outside." he growled, hate oozing from every syllable. The red mist of rage had clouded his judgement entirely. He wasn't normally the kind of ghoul to accept challenges - but the smoothskin had succeeded in insulting what little honor he had left. The bar patrons drew back, forming a spacious circle around the two duelists. The knew in their somber hearts that something bad was about to go down. |
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Herman Higueras -HC- Appearance Scrawny, dark-colored ghoul. Black patches of hair, lacking an upper lip. Equipment Armor: Packrat's Clothing. Weapons: Phazer, Switchblade. Level: 3 Jarmuk Level: 2 Isaac -HC- - Mayor of Bucket Town ______________________________________________________________ The Platon | |
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| lonesomedrifter | Nov 7 2015, 06:01 PM Post #6 |
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Sexual Magneto
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Edward had his honour and name dragged through the mud by this lousy zombie, but he had not expected him to accept. This dispute had to be resolved. Edward scowled at the vile stinking mass of bones and a vaguely Hispanic accent. The patrons backed off. They knew of the great whooping that was about to be handed down from the heavens unto the ghoul’s ass. Edward relaxed his shoulders and lifted his head. Calm and collected. That is a how a gentlemen acts. Edward extended a hand and asked the ghoul his name. “We need to know what to put on the tombstone after all.” Edward slid out the door as cool as a cat next to an air conditioner. He stepped out into the middle of the dirt trail. He locked eyes with the dark yellowed ones of his opponent. Dark clouds had moved over the midday sun, running its bright light through a filter of grime. A bitter wind began to blow, cutting through Edward’s fancy clothing. He resisted the urge to shiver as an old man stepped forward. The man elected himself as some sort of referee for the proceedings. He relayed the rules to the men. Edward already knew them, but the ghoul was of a lesser standing, and was perhaps not familiar with the rules of a contest between honourable men. The ten paces felt like the ten miles. His heart pounded. Sweat ran down his back. Ed just had to relax. The ghoul’s nerve endings were probably rotten and Edward was fast. Edward could outdraw him. He slid his hand over his gun. He just realised that he had never fired the thing before. He did not even know whether it was capable of killing a radroach, never mind a man. Well, now he would find out. “DRAW!” |
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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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| Platon | Dec 12 2015, 12:51 PM Post #7 |
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The Prophet of Toast
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He stood perfectly still. Legs spread apart, arms firmly poised, hands lightly trembling. His face still carried the snarl of hate and fury - but inside the ghoul's leathery chest beat a hard of pure fright. His rage having cooled off in the chilly winds, he suddenly came back to his senses again. Just what the hell had he been trying to pull off? Herman was no gunslinger. He had never even fired a pistol without clutching it in both hands. He didn't even know the stranger who had pissed him off so badly. For all he knew he could be a veteran sniper or a wasteland legend. Thousands of thoughts flickered through his mushy brains. He considered briefly trying to go through with the duel. Then he thought about just running away before anyone had drawn their sidearm. Lastly, he considered just apologizing to the snob - but quickly ruled that out as an option. "DRAW!" And then nothing. He did not flinch, nor aim, nor even throw himself to his knees. Herman stood as immobile and still as a bronze statue - too shocked with performance anxiety and fright to even move a muscle. Not even his eyelids dared move, and so he simply locked the glaring eyes onto his rival - chest beating with terror in front of the death he expected to come for him. |
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Herman Higueras -HC- Appearance Scrawny, dark-colored ghoul. Black patches of hair, lacking an upper lip. Equipment Armor: Packrat's Clothing. Weapons: Phazer, Switchblade. Level: 3 Jarmuk Level: 2 Isaac -HC- - Mayor of Bucket Town ______________________________________________________________ The Platon | |
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| lonesomedrifter | Jan 9 2016, 05:55 PM Post #8 |
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Sexual Magneto
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His heart hammered against his rib-cage. Blood shot through his body like a speeding jet. Clouds of anger in his mind cleared. What was he thinking? He wasn’t a gunslinger, some lone ranger out for blood. He wasn’t a killer. He had only killed once before. Could he really do it again? Could he really kill a complete stranger over something as simple as spilt beer? Edward hesitated. His hand hovered over his holster. Lumps in his throat forced their way up. He shook himself and held his stern scowl. The rage dissipated. The ghoul had called Ed’s bluff. He waited for the bullet. This was the end. Except it wasn’t. The ghoul stared, his pupils like pinholes. Edward took a deep breath. In, and out. Calm came over him. His eyes locked with the ghoul’s. If it came down to mind games, Edward would not let some jerk with anger issues blow away his focus. Seconds passed, but it felt like hours. Edward wasn’t going to fire. And neither was that damn ghoul. The air was still. The heat hung in the air. Sweat dribbled down his forehead. The crowd was quiet, no shouts, yells, or even a gasp. Just solemn quiet as they waited to see which man was going to crack. |
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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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| Platon | Feb 6 2016, 04:13 AM Post #9 |
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The Prophet of Toast
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"Well, this sucks." a small girl in the audience said after seven whole minutes of nothing had passed. Though nobody replied, there was a silent sort of agreement in the crowd. Old men were sitting down, alcoholic albinos were heading back inside the tent again, and teenagers with spiky hairstyles were playing dice out of sheer boredom. The old referee was checking a nonexistent watch on his wrist to passive-aggressively show his displeasure, but neither Herman nor the Snob showed any sign of yielding yet. He was as immobile as a stoic bronze statue. Both feet were planted firmly in the ground, and the hand still hovered over his phazer. Jaws were clenched so tightly together that the teeth had begun to scrape, and the muscles on his neck were swollen and corded with intense exertion. Despite standing perfectly motionless, his body was working harder than it ever had done before. But above all, it was his milky eyes which worked the hardest. Swollen with passion, sparking with hatred as they locked deeply with the snob's. Every single nerve, tendon and muscle in his face were focused on the single task of keeping his eyelids apart. He knew that if he blinked - even once - the crowd would deem him the loser. He had to keep staring the stranger down, despite the fact that it could kill him. Despite the fact that a gentle, dry desert breeze was beginning to blow in his direction. |
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Herman Higueras -HC- Appearance Scrawny, dark-colored ghoul. Black patches of hair, lacking an upper lip. Equipment Armor: Packrat's Clothing. Weapons: Phazer, Switchblade. Level: 3 Jarmuk Level: 2 Isaac -HC- - Mayor of Bucket Town ______________________________________________________________ The Platon | |
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| lonesomedrifter | Apr 15 2016, 05:45 PM Post #10 |
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Sexual Magneto
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Edward felt a creeping sensation. Like tiny insects running up along the back of his neck. All the muscles in his face twitched and strained. Holding his eyelids up felt like pushing boulders uphill. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out against the clouded eyes of his zombified opponent. The crowd had begun to dissipate, but a few remained. Some still wanted to see who would be the victor. There would be no shots fired today, but the moment an eyelid closed it would all be over. Fairfax summoned all the energy stored in his emaciated body. This ghoul would rue the day he decided to take on Edward Fairfax III in a staring contest. As the minutes passed it became clear that that a battle of optical prowess would come down to attrition. It was obvious how evenly matched the two men were in terms of endurance. To put an end to this duel of the pupils, Edward would need to conjure up some magic. He would have to bring a skill to the table that the ghoul could never match. He would have to bring out the big guns. He would have to use ‘Magnum’. An unspeakable dread descended upon Edward. He knew the power of ‘Magnum’. He knew what it could do if used incorrectly. He knew the dangers, but his reputation was at stake. He would not let word spread of him being defeated by a hunk of rotten flesh. He inhaled. Air flooded his lungs as he pulled up his last few dregs of strength. He adjusted his cheekbones. His eyebrows slid into just the right place. He pouted. Then, with the exhale, he fired out ‘Magnum’. (OOC: Just a heads up, I won't be able to post again until the end of May, so you can take your time ) |
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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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| Platon | Apr 25 2016, 11:47 PM Post #11 |
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The Prophet of Toast
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Herman's lips pulled back to expose a yellow, furious snarl. The rolling, dry desert breeze washed over him softly; draining his cornea of all moisture and freckling it with particles of dust and dirt. It made some onlookers cough, and a tiny tumbleweed bounce past his feet dramatically. His eyelids shook; an erratic, jerking vibration which took every nerve and tendon he had to hold back. He was staring like no sane ghoul had ever stared before. Staring as if though the universe had birthed him for the sole purpose of outlasting the stranger in this needless battle of mental wits. Staring with every fibre his frail form could muster. The exertion was close to killing him; but he knew that he somehow, someway would pull through and come out victorious. Then suddenly it happened. At first he thought it was a mirage, a cruel trick played by his mind to torture and taunt him. His nemesis seemed to shift form; facial features repositioning, lips growing fuller, eyes burning brighter. But it was not 'Blue Steel' - the face children pulled to scare each other; nor was it 'Le Tigre', predictable and unimposing. It was 'Magnum'. He had never seen 'Magnum' before. It was a face born from campfire legends, of which dark, horrible tales were told. Tousle-headed tribals frightened children with its name, and the threat of seeing it brought rebellious slaves to their knees quicker than by any lash. Face of Satan, just as dangerous to the wielder as it was to the onlooker. His knees shook. Desperately he tried to swallow, tried to look away; but it was much too late. The stranger's icy glare sucked him in. The pupils had grown to black abysses which suckled his soul. It was as if the glare was a great, tangible hand which squeezed the throat of his spirit. He was about ready to collapse, but the pouting stranger showed no sign of yielding. (OOC: No problem LD - take aaaaall the time you need!) |
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Herman Higueras -HC- Appearance Scrawny, dark-colored ghoul. Black patches of hair, lacking an upper lip. Equipment Armor: Packrat's Clothing. Weapons: Phazer, Switchblade. Level: 3 Jarmuk Level: 2 Isaac -HC- - Mayor of Bucket Town ______________________________________________________________ The Platon | |
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| lonesomedrifter | Jun 22 2016, 07:46 AM Post #12 |
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Sexual Magneto
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All sound faded out. The crowd disappeared. There was only Edward and the ghoul. He felt like a sniper taking aim at his target, only moments away from pulling the trigger. Every muscle burned like the despicable desert sun. Edward’s body went into overdrive, as if he was running a marathon a minute. Blood and adrenaline rushed through his body. Impossible power filled every inch of him. He felt like he could stare down God. It took every ounce of effort to maintain the ‘Magnum’. He felt that at any moment his eyes would melt out of their sockets. His legs trembled, but he held. This skinless shit was not going to win. He clenched his jaw tight, feeling like he was pushing his teeth back into his skull. His heart slammed against his rib-cage with a death wish, getting faster and faster until it became like machine gun fire. Sweat burst out of every pore and darted downwards. Muscles screamed and yelled for relief, but it was no use. There was no thought anymore, just an instinctive urge to stare deep into the eyes of the terrified ghoul. Every inch of skin began to sting like a thousand needles pricking him all at once. His stomach boiled. Thick goopy drool dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. His insides churned. The sweat broke through the dam of his eyebrows and began its assault on his eyes. Everything inside wanted out. There was a loud crack. Edward’s stomach dropped. The back of his pants had a new sudden unwanted weight on them. The wind dragged the foul stench up into his face. It was the single worst thing Edward had ever smelled. It fried his eyes and he could feel its stench fill his lungs and flow out into his blood, dirtying him to his very core. Either of the duelists could crack at any minute. It was up to God now. |
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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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| Blue | Jun 23 2016, 04:28 PM Post #13 |
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Showdown Record: 1 - 1 - 1
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Well gentlemen, this was a damn fine read and I think you both should know that this might just be my favorite showdown I've read in a long time. The lead-up was solid on both parts and you handled the comical transition from gunfight better than I expected. The whole thing was an entertaining read and you played it serious from an in-character perspective, which was downright awesome. I wish you guys could both win but I'm not about to start giving out participation trophies here so I think its time to pick a winner.
Despite some awesome posts from the opposition, I have to say Platon's posts just had a little more momentum down the stretch than LD's did. I know this thing was nine months in the making so there wasn't a whole lot of post flow going on, but somebody had to win this thing. I hope to see both of you come out of this with some new pieces because I was thoroughly entertained by your work here. |
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Gilbert Rose Level 5 S.P.E.C.I.A.L: 3 5 3 8 6 9 6 Weapons: Type 57 Machinepistol, Stun Grenades Short, thick brown hair and beard, lanky and surefooted. "Doctor" Jasper Cobb Level 1 -HC- S.P.E.C.I.A.L: 4 6 6 3 10 6 5 Weapons: Scalpel Short, with round features, looks unsettling to most. Sebastian Coates Level 1 -HC- S.P.E.C.I.A.L: 7 3 6 6 4 7 7 Weapons: Homemade Shotgun, Cultist Knife (Tier 1) Average height, bulky for a ghoul. Sun Apr 30, 1:17:19pm cewebwalz: your my spaghetti daddy blue Tue June 19, 9:52:57pm lonesomedrifter23: ^Blue the best mod in the business | |
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| Midnight Rider | Jun 30 2016, 12:03 PM Post #14 |
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The Super Cereal
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[YOUTUBE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pT4nVPlRhTs[/YOUTUBE] |
![]() 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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