Expllo

What Are You Listening To?

2100 ☢️ BADLAND REPUBLIC

Milo 'No-Name'

Kettler Mine - Arsenal

Besides a headnod offered at the swap of items, a lack of response was what came from Milo as he paid attention to the words now coming from Josiah and the crowd. It turned into another ‘passionate’, heated, debate where both sides had merit. It wasn’t Milo’s place to speak up, but there were clear advantages to remaining hidden from a force as big as the Republic. His eyes scanned throughout the crowd, noting mostly refugees and hard-workers. This was a community, not a militia or band of raiders. If he would have stuck it out with his old group, they would have considered this mine like taking candy from babies. A low chuckle erupted from the deformed man as he kept his sarcastic comments to himself, getting himself a good look at the green-skinned broad that was debating. Everyone had the answers, but who was actually willing to go out and do it themselves? That’s what Milo wondered.

If not for the current situation, Milo’s instincts would have made him reach for his weapon when the shot began ringing out. Back in his camp, the shot meant the green-skinned woman and the rest of the disgruntled mutants would have been laid across the floor. Here, more for show but got the job done the same. Josiah had made a threat - or rather a promise - to discipline those who stepped out of line. Milo found it fair, but how long would it really keep them in line? It wasn’t his concern to continue thinking about it. Milo heard the word he needed to hear; expedition, which sent him on his way to the arsenal.

Milo was the first to arrive, and generally was each go-around in order to continue securing his good living situation. The arsenal consisted of a shooting range and proving ground, as well as an area to store weapons. Milo rarely used the weapon storage as he preferred to keep his weapons on his person at all times, including sleeping. The proving ground he wished to use more, but it was rare to find a sparring partner that had similar endurance. The shooting range was where he could be found, usually taking a few pot shots to get his aim steady. This time around he would hold off, as something told him times were going to get harder. He could smell it in the air and as such, was going to conserve as much equipment as possible.

Milo made sure his medkit was fully stocked and took his gun apart to clean it. At least, as far as he could get without having to mess with the laser functioning. Next, he would take two 40-round magazines and flip one upside. He would couple them together with tape to create a flip mag. Milo would then begin practicing a quicker reload, dislodging the clip and then flipping it to the other mag, inserting it with an extra hit at the end. He would consistently perform this action until he got into the habit of it. Expeditions were always dangerous, and those blue-and-red fuckers lurking around the corner made it none the easier now. Milo raised his assault-rifle with one arm, admiring the new attachment and cleanliness. He understood a gun was just like a woman, you needed to oil ‘er up and get her pretty before the finger-fuckin’ commenced. That’s what her previous owner failed to understand, and why she treats Milo nicely at every turn. Now, he was ready for his mission.

2100 ☢️ BADLAND REPUBLIC

Milo 'No-Name'

Kettler Mine

Milo was walking mindlessly across the cavern of Kettler Mine, a bottle of beer in his hand with the cap freshly plucked off. There were no thoughts behind his eyes, simply boredom and frustration from being told off in his attempts to find Josiah. It had been a week since his last mission, and that’s what paid for his free lounging. The last thing he wanted to hear was any nonsense concerning pulling his weight. For now, he would enjoy the time-off. The bottle was near his lips, ready for the first sip before a voice pulled his attention away.

“My fellows…”

‘This motherfucker!’ Milo thought as he lowered his arm and began backing up as a crowd formed. He made his way to the back of the growing crowd, eyes scanning around as Josiah preached his words of peace. It was a respectful stance that was rudely interrupted, causing uncharacteristic frustrations to show on the Mutant Land’s leader. Back in his old camp, interrupting the leader was grounds for a fight-until-death. Here, they would go on to call it being passionate. Milo didn’t fully understand it, instead he understood that the threat of the Republic and Blackwatch meant that his services were still going to be required. He also wasn’t that dumb to dismiss his own situation, they would ask no questions seeing his face. For now, this seemed to be the best place to lay his head, so he would patiently hear out what Josiah had to say during this calming silence.

A shadow flashed in the corner of his eye, a lone figure grabbing his attention atop the catwalks. An enigma, her dark hair and eyes alongside her clothing wrapped her into the shadows that surrounded her. He couldn’t fully make her out but still, it was something about her that he couldn’t take his eyes off of. He squinted slightly, and took a step forward before a voice nearby snapped him out of his trance. It was the one everyone has been calling ’Nine’. Milo didn’t know her personally, but had seen her around in her weird uniform and robot-like mannerisms. Milo was just ugly as shit, but talk about being fuckin’ creepy with that one. Still, she must have some respectful skill to be surviving out here like the rest of them. The guy she was speaking to, however, he had never seen before. He was of similar age and height, with a similar rough-unkempt appearance. Their similarities would end there. This guy had more muscles and could actually be considered handsome, at least on a level Milo himself would never achieve. Milo heard their conversation by proxy instead of interest, but couldn’t help but notice the guy fidgeting with his necklace. It was the same way he caressed the ring of his dead lover. He sighed, and once Nine made her exit, Milo stretched his arm out, the beer now in front of Maverick. “Trade ya’ fa’ one of them smokes, yeah?”

He glanced back up at the catwalks, but the enigma was gone. Or did she merely merge with the shadows? Who was she?

2100 ☢️ BADLAND REPUBLIC

Milo ‘No-Name’

Milo ’No-Name’

”What’s For Dinner?”

---

___________________________________ P R O F I L E Age Mid - Late 20s Sex Male Height 5’10 Weight 175 lbs. Race Human Origin Wanderer (Ex-Raider) Transportation N/A Starting Location Havenwood Color Code 8493ca ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y Extra rations + ammo Golden ring with cloud designs etched into it Raider-Leader Journal Raider-Leader Map Rolled up porno-mag from the old world, mint condition. ____________________________________ E Q U I P M E N T - Standard Assault-Rifle [M4] with Holo Scope and Extended Mag [40] that can switch between single fire or rapid-laser fire. - Machete - Body Armor - Smoke Bombs Caustic Grenades Medkit ____________________________________ A T T R I B U T E S Points: Strength: 2 (+2 Creation) Fitness: 2 (+2 Creation) Dexterity: 2 (+2 Creation) Perception: 3 (+3 Creation) Intellect: 0 Endurance: 5 (+3 Creation, +2 TSOAB)

____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE DESCRIPTION Milo is a human that’s constantly mistaken for a mutant due to his disfigured face and body. His skin is incredibly-pale and tight with some of his veins uncomfortably visible. He carries open-wounds on both arms, and is distinguished by the scar on the right side of his face leaving his expression a permanent scowl. His tired-dark eyes betray all emotion when they’re not shielded by his messy black hair. Milo keeps his attire relatively simple. Combat-boots, jeans, and the most comfortable hoodie he finds under his bulletproof vest. No matter the weather, this is his attire. ____________________________________________________________________________ BACKSTORY Milo was born a slave in an area unbeknownst to him. His earliest memory was of the orphanage, an old-’church’ where he played endlessly with his brothers and sisters. This orphanage was a front. Regardless if they were born there or taken at a young age, these children would soon know nothing other than complete servitude. Milo was forced into heavy labor such as hauling crates and tending to mine-work. As he grew older, a young adult but still a boy in our eyes, his treatment compared to his peers softened as he was chosen to be taken into his owner’s bed. Rumor had it that her last one died. Milo was groomed over the next year, and isolated from the rest of the slaves. It was neither enjoyable or unenjoyable, simply something Milo had to do to see the next day. He found his pleasure, where he could, but it mainly came in the form of the warm room and fresh nutrients he was provided between acts. Milo’s new life of comfort, by his standards, would shortly come to a close. His performance was deemed worthy enough to please Mother. The next day he would enter his owner’s chamber shrouded in complete darkness the entire act, but this time was different. This time felt draining and aggressive, and then really aggressive. He felt something sharp dig into his arms causing him to scream, before something pierced his right cheek and pulled hard ripping away skin. He was being torn apart and drained of blood as he performed. This was the first time in his life he felt true, genuine, fear and disgust. The first time in his life he did something that might mean the end of his life. Light would enter the chambers as raiders kicked the door in, staging an attack the moment the slave owner began her ‘ceremony’. The sight would even make the raiders take pause, the sight of the boy making love to a mutant queen that was seemingly absorbing him. The shock would turn into a roaring crowd of laughter as one by one the raiders gathered in to behold. The raiders found him amusing from that point on, and took him in due to his perceived braveness or craziness. A raider threw a machete to his feet and Milo grabbed it. He stared at his owner. This ‘Mother’. Once a beautiful, yet aging, woman now showed her true appearance. Withered, wrinkled, eyes sunken with a red hue with an expression of fear. An expression many of slaves showered her with that she simply dismissed. He would as well, hesitating before his first strike struck her neck. The gushing of blood and gurgling sounds shook him, but he continued striking, putting more and more anger behind each strike. Anger, fear, and disgust he couldn’t even comprehend at the time. Milo would pass out due to his injuries, and awaken in a Raider camp days later. This was his life now and Milo couldn’t complain, he just fell in line in order to survive the next day. This group of savages taught him to survive in the wasteland. They taught him how to fight, shoot, and raid. They taught him their tactics and while never the brightest, he was naturally gifted at shooting and understanding combat tactics. Milo would roam with this group for years to come, terrorizing small settlements and holdouts. He never considered himself one of them however, which made what’s next to come easy to do. The raiders would attack a group of scavengers and families returning to Havenwood. This raid was no different than the ones from the past, so he played it as such. He hung back while the first group moved in. He was meant to make his move afterwards, but the treatment of the families made him hesitate for the first time since taking his lover’s life. The willingness to harm even the little one’s was something he never saw from the group. Milo would go on to use the raider’s combat tactics against them, using smoke bombs and caustic grenades as distractions to pick off targets from a distance. The battle felt like forever as he helped the mutants defend their loot with minimum casualties. Milo would go on to gather the best items he could from his deceased brethren before beginning his journey alone. It wasn’t until the mutants expressed their thanks, and claimed to vouch for him, that he would be accepted in Havenwood where he’s been for an entire month now. ____________________________________________________________________________ PERSONALITY Milo is a quiet and reserved individual, a trait used to keep him out of trouble as a slave. A trait that also kept him out of the bad graces of the raiders he roamed with for years. However, he isn’t antisocial but rather a deadpan-snarker offering a sarcastic comment here and there. It’s almost always difficult to tell if he’s joking or not, unless he offers a smirk that’s so deformed it looks like an even worse scowl. It’s better off he let people wonder. As a former slave and raider, Milo lacks all the civility of normal people. He will often refer to people in their derogatory forms, even ‘Mutant Land’ where he currently resides. This can be understandable to some given his background, but it can create problems for him regardless. This, coupled with not being academically-inclined, should lead to him being the last person used for democracy. While Milo may be up for companionship, his one rule is survival above all else. He’s not above aborting a mission or turning his back on a faction in order to keep his life. While this definitely pushes him into the selfish category, he wouldn’t go out of his way to backstab or manipulate anyone. He would rather be alone than bother to do that, not that he’s smart enough to think that far ahead anyway. ____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK Survival: Milo puts his survival above all-else 95% of the time, it seems to be one of the few things he’s good at. Asshole with a heart of gold: Kids and Slaves are a No-Go for him, and the 5% of why he isn’t completely selfish. Pack Mule: It doesn’t take much to convince Milo to go on a mission or journey as long as the reward seems worth it. He has no larger goal other than to make it to the next day as comfortable as possible. Derogatory: A product of being raised by slavers and raiders, you don’t have the most civilized tongue even if you mean well. What can you do? ____________________________________________________________________________ MODIFIERS Tough Son Of A B-: Long story short, Milo has been through some shit (+2 Endurance)

2100 ☢️ BADLAND REPUBLIC

Milo ‘No-Name’

Milo ’No-Name’

”What’s For Dinner?”

---

___________________________________ P R O F I L E Age Mid - Late 20s Sex Male Height 5’10 Weight 175 lbs. Race Human Origin Wanderer (Ex-Raider) Transportation N/A Starting Location Havenwood Color Code 8493ca ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y Extra rations + ammo Golden ring with cloud designs etched into it Raider-Leader Journal Raider-Leader Map Rolled up porno-mag from the old world, mint condition. ____________________________________ E Q U I P M E N T - Standard Assault-Rifle [M4] with Holo Scope and Extended Mag [40] that can switch between single fire or rapid-laser fire. - Machete - Body Armor - Smoke Bombs Caustic Grenades Medkit ____________________________________ A T T R I B U T E S Points: Strength: 2 (+2 Creation) Fitness: 2 (+2 Creation) Dexterity: 2 (+2 Creation) Perception: 3 (+3 Creation) Intellect: 0 Endurance: 5 (+3 Creation, +2 TSOAB)

____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE DESCRIPTION Milo is a human that’s constantly mistaken for a mutant due to his disfigured face and body. His skin is incredibly-pale and tight with some of his veins uncomfortably visible. He carries open-wounds on both arms, and is distinguished by the scar on the right side of his face leaving his expression a permanent scowl. His tired-dark eyes betray all emotion when they’re not shielded by his messy black hair. Milo keeps his attire relatively simple. Combat-boots, jeans, and the most comfortable hoodie he finds under his bulletproof vest. No matter the weather, this is his attire. ____________________________________________________________________________ BACKSTORY Milo was born a slave in an area unbeknownst to him. His earliest memory was of the orphanage, an old-’church’ where he played endlessly with his brothers and sisters. This orphanage was a front. Regardless if they were born there or taken at a young age, these children would soon know nothing other than complete servitude. Milo was forced into heavy labor such as hauling crates and tending to mine-work. As he grew older, a young adult but still a boy in our eyes, his treatment compared to his peers softened as he was chosen to be taken into his owner’s bed. Rumor had it that her last one died. Milo was groomed over the next year, and isolated from the rest of the slaves. It was neither enjoyable or unenjoyable, simply something Milo had to do to see the next day. He found his pleasure, where he could, but it mainly came in the form of the warm room and fresh nutrients he was provided between acts. Milo’s new life of comfort, by his standards, would shortly come to a close. His performance was deemed worthy enough to please Mother. The next day he would enter his owner’s chamber shrouded in complete darkness the entire act, but this time was different. This time felt draining and aggressive, and then really aggressive. He felt something sharp dig into his arms causing him to scream, before something pierced his right cheek and pulled hard ripping away skin. He was being torn apart and drained of blood as he performed. This was the first time in his life he felt true, genuine, fear and disgust. The first time in his life he did something that might mean the end of his life. Light would enter the chambers as raiders kicked the door in, staging an attack the moment the slave owner began her ‘ceremony’. The sight would even make the raiders take pause, the sight of the boy making love to a mutant queen that was seemingly absorbing him. The shock would turn into a roaring crowd of laughter as one by one the raiders gathered in to behold. The raiders found him amusing from that point on, and took him in due to his perceived braveness or craziness. A raider threw a machete to his feet and Milo grabbed it. He stared at his owner. This ‘Mother’. Once a beautiful, yet aging, woman now showed her true appearance. Withered, wrinkled, eyes sunken with a red hue with an expression of fear. An expression many of slaves showered her with that she simply dismissed. He would as well, hesitating before his first strike struck her neck. The gushing of blood and gurgling sounds shook him, but he continued striking, putting more and more anger behind each strike. Anger, fear, and disgust he couldn’t even comprehend at the time. Milo would pass out due to his injuries, and awaken in a Raider camp days later. This was his life now and Milo couldn’t complain, he just fell in line in order to survive the next day. This group of savages taught him to survive in the wasteland. They taught him how to fight, shoot, and raid. They taught him their tactics and while never the brightest, he was naturally gifted at shooting and understanding combat tactics. Milo would roam with this group for years to come, terrorizing small settlements and holdouts. He never considered himself one of them however, which made what’s next to come easy to do. The raiders would attack a group of scavengers and families returning to Havenwood. This raid was no different than the ones from the past, so he played it as such. He hung back while the first group moved in. He was meant to make his move afterwards, but the treatment of the families made him hesitate for the first time since taking his lover’s life. The willingness to harm even the little one’s was something he never saw from the group. Milo would go on to use the raider’s combat tactics against them, using smoke bombs and caustic grenades as distractions to pick off targets from a distance. The battle felt like forever as he helped the mutants defend their loot with minimum casualties. Milo would go on to gather the best items he could from his deceased brethren before beginning his journey alone. It wasn’t until the mutants expressed their thanks, and claimed to vouch for him, that he would be accepted in Havenwood where he’s been for an entire month now. ____________________________________________________________________________ PERSONALITY Milo is a quiet and reserved individual, a trait used to keep him out of trouble as a slave. A trait that also kept him out of the bad graces of the raiders he roamed with for years. However, he isn’t antisocial but rather a deadpan-snarker offering a sarcastic comment here and there. It’s almost always difficult to tell if he’s joking or not, unless he offers a smirk that’s so deformed it looks like an even worse scowl. It’s better off he let people wonder. As a former slave and raider, Milo lacks all the civility of normal people. He will often refer to people in their derogatory forms, even ‘Mutant Land’ where he currently resides. This can be understandable to some given his background, but it can create problems for him regardless. This, coupled with not being academically-inclined, should lead to him being the last person used for democracy. While Milo may be up for companionship, his one rule is survival above all else. He’s not above aborting a mission or turning his back on a faction in order to keep his life. While this definitely pushes him into the selfish category, he wouldn’t go out of his way to backstab or manipulate anyone. He would rather be alone than bother to do that, not that he’s smart enough to think that far ahead anyway. ____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK Survival: Milo puts his survival above all-else 95% of the time, it seems to be one of the few things he’s good at. Asshole with a heart of gold: Kids and Slaves are a No-Go for him, and the 5% of why he isn’t completely selfish. Pack Mule: It doesn’t take much to convince Milo to go on a mission or journey as long as the reward seems worth it. He has no larger goal other than to make it to the next day as comfortable as possible. Derogatory: A product of being raised by slavers and raiders, you don’t have the most civilized tongue even if you mean well. What can you do? ____________________________________________________________________________ MODIFIERS Tough Son Of A B-: Long story short, Milo has been through some shit (+2 Endurance)

2100 ☢️ BADLAND REPUBLIC (Interest Gathering) (High Casual) (FULL)

@Shu let’s do it 💯 let’s go get paid

2100 ☢️ BADLAND REPUBLIC (Interest Gathering) (High Casual) (FULL)

From what I’ve read so far - interested.

What Are You Listening To?

I get in that mode can't hear nobody but myself

Himitsuraku [Naruto RP]

I can’t resist a Naruto RP, especially since I don’t want to make one of my own and this seems to take a different twist. Consider me interested.

SPEARHEAD - A military, special forces RP in the almost modern-day

Keeping my eye on this