BingTheWing

♠ Showdowns & Saddles ♠

Hmm, now that we have everyone, do you want to get started now @Kelewen?

♠ Showdowns & Saddles ♠

I'm good with that.

♠ Showdowns & Saddles ♠

@Kelewen How many players are you looking at? The three characters we have right now all act as pretty good foils for each other, I must say.

♠ Showdowns & Saddles ♠

Taylor "Black Jack" Jackson

Name: Taylor "Black Jack" Jackson

Purpose: Looking for work after the splitting-up of his gang

Description:

Taylor is a big, imposing cowboy outlaw, standing at 6'0 and 170 lbs. He usually dons a long bandolier, a large duster coat, a wide-brimmed ten-gallon hat, and his signature black bandana covering his face. Underneath his hat and bandana are a youthful, yet bitter and long brown-eyed face, and a slightly long brown hairstyle. He speaks with a vibrant, almost angry-sounding yet somehow eloquent Louisianian accent with a slight hint of Cajun.

Backstory:

Taylor R. Jackson was born in 1844, the sixth son of Edward Jackson, a cotton plantation owner in Louisiana. From a young age, Taylor was indoctrinated to be a future steward of the family's land and reputation in the antebellum South. At the same time, as one of the youngest in the family, Taylor was often overlooked when it came to family inheritance and the approval of his own father. So in the end he would always have a chip on his shoulder: while bearing such responsibility as the heir of such a family, Taylor would never feel truly appreciated for his sacrifices for them.

Taylor was an avid sharpshooter in his youth, which translated well to his career in the Civil War as an officer for the Confederate Army. Taylor was a fierce sharpshooter on the battlefield, his numerous successful encounters with the enemy serving as inspiration for his own men, leading him to become one of the youngest captains in the Confederate Army. But when the war ended and the Reconstruction Era took its toll on the wealth of the Jackson family, Taylor saw his father become a shell of the man he used to be: instead of the proud and deeply traditional plantation owner he had regarded him as, Edward turned to alcoholism and resigned his many acres of land to be sold off to the slaves that had once done their bidding. Refusing to go the path of his father and his family, Taylor gathered some of his old comrades during the war and left for the West to find gold.

The promises of gold eventually turned out to be empty, but Taylor realized that the many guns his gang had brought with them along with their combat experience made them perfect candidates for a life of banditry. Desperate for food and on their last savings, Taylor's gang agreed, and when they all rode out from a canyon one starry night in Arizona to rob a lone stagecoach, their careers as infamous outlaws were born. Nicknamed the "Black Brothers" for the signature black bandanas they all wore and partially as a mockery of their Southern origins, Taylor's gang accumulated a modest fortune robbing stagecoaches, banks, and occasionally other gangs. Taylor himself earned the moniker of "Black Jack" for being the leader, and the deadliest and most intimidating of the group. While the rest of the gang aimed for speedy retirements in Australia or South America, Taylor secretly dreamed of establishing a legitimate ranching business under a different name and returning to his now-destitute family in Louisiana.

But their good luck did not last for long - when the Black Brothers attempted to rob a train in New Mexico, they were not aware of the train's heavily armed guard working for a wealthy gold magnate in the area. In the ensuing chaos, several of Taylor's gang were killed or captured and the rest forced to flee East with nearly nothing from the robbery and the little money they could hurriedly gather from their hideout. After many angry squabbles by campfires at night, the remaining Black Brothers agreed to go their separate ways to avoid alerting the authorities, promising one day to come back for the gold in their hideout in New Mexico. Such was the situation Taylor found himself in when he wandered one fateful day into the town of Sweetwater, Texas.

Important Equipment:
- Winchester Model 1873 repeating rifle
- "Buck" and "Belle", two custom Colt SAA revolvers with ivory grips, one engraved with a deer and the other with a lady
- Morgan horse named "Cecilia"
- $800 in bills in a wallet and hidden compartments in Cecilia's saddlebags
- Hunting knife
- Ten-gallon hat
- Several bandanas of differing colors
- Cowboy duster and some extra clothes
- Two sticks of dynamite
- Binoculars
- Hard tack and salted beef jerky for several days
- Feed for Cecilia

♠ Showdowns & Saddles ♠

Taylor "Black Jack" Jackson

Name: Taylor "Black Jack" Jackson

Purpose: Looking for work after the splitting-up of his gang

Description:

Taylor is a big, imposing cowboy outlaw, standing at 6'0 and 170 lbs. He usually dons a long bandolier, a large duster coat, a wide-brimmed ten-gallon hat, and his signature black bandana covering his face. Underneath his hat and bandana are a youthful, yet bitter and long brown-eyed face, and a slightly long brown hairstyle. He speaks with a vibrant, almost angry-sounding yet somehow eloquent Louisianian accent with a slight hint of Cajun.

Backstory:

Taylor R. Jackson was born in 1844, the sixth son of Edward Jackson, a cotton plantation owner in Louisiana. From a young age, Taylor was indoctrinated to be a future steward of the family's land and reputation in the antebellum South. At the same time, as one of the youngest in the family, Taylor was often overlooked when it came to family inheritance and the approval of his own father. So in the end he would always have a chip on his shoulder: while bearing such responsibility as the heir of such a family, Taylor would never feel truly appreciated for his sacrifices for them.

Taylor was an avid sharpshooter in his youth, which translated well to his career in the Civil War as an officer for the Confederate Army. Taylor was a fierce sharpshooter on the battlefield, his numerous successful encounters with the enemy serving as inspiration for his own men, leading him to become one of the youngest captains in the Confederate Army. But when the war ended and the Reconstruction Era took its toll on the wealth of the Jackson family, Taylor saw his father become a shell of the man he used to be: instead of the proud and deeply traditional plantation owner he had regarded him as, Edward turned to alcoholism and resigned his many acres of land to be sold off to the slaves that had once done their bidding. Refusing to go the path of his father and his family, Taylor gathered some of his old comrades during the war and left for the West to find gold.

The promises of gold eventually turned out to be empty, but Taylor realized that the many guns his gang had brought with them along with their combat experience made them perfect candidates for a life of banditry. Desperate for food and on their last savings, Taylor's gang agreed, and when they all rode out from a canyon one starry night in Arizona to rob a lone stagecoach, their careers as infamous outlaws were born. Nicknamed the "Black Brothers" for the signature black bandanas they all wore and partially as a mockery of their Southern origins, Taylor's gang accumulated a modest fortune robbing stagecoaches, banks, and occasionally other gangs. Taylor himself earned the moniker of "Black Jack" for being the leader, and the deadliest and most intimidating of the group. While the rest of the gang aimed for speedy retirements in Australia or South America, Taylor secretly dreamed of establishing a legitimate ranching business under a different name and returning to his now-destitute family in Louisiana.

But their good luck did not last for long - when the Black Brothers attempted to rob a train in New Mexico, they were not aware of the train's heavily armed guard working for a wealthy gold magnate in the area. In the ensuing chaos, several of Taylor's gang were killed or captured and the rest forced to flee East with nearly nothing from the robbery and the little money they could hurriedly gather from their hideout. After many angry squabbles by campfires at night, the remaining Black Brothers agreed to go their separate ways to avoid alerting the authorities, promising one day to come back for the gold in their hideout in New Mexico. Such was the situation Taylor found himself in when he wandered one fateful day into the town of Sweetwater, Texas.

Important Equipment:
- Winchester Model 1873 repeating rifle
- "Buck" and "Belle", two custom Colt SAA revolvers with ivory grips, one engraved with a deer and the other of a lady
- Morgan horse named "Cecilia"
- $800 in bills in a wallet and hidden compartments in Cecilia's saddlebags
- Hunting knife
- Ten-gallon hat
- Several bandanas of differing colors
- Cowboy duster and some extra clothes
- Two sticks of dynamite
- Binoculars
- Hard tack and salted beef jerky for several days
- Feed for Cecilia

Also, what exact year in the 1870s would you envision this taking place in?

Cinematic Wild West

This sounds neat! Been playing a lot of RDR2 lately

𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚢 - 𝙳𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚢 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎

I’ve just been playing a shit ton of DOOM and this could not have come at a better time

The Gilded Age | Getting Filthy Rich and Richly Corrupt in America | Nation RP

@LordZell lurking, don't count me as interested yet haha

Steampunk: Dragons and Battleships

How long has it been exactly since the Atomic Awakening? The OP doesn't really specify.

sike im a dumbass

Victory: The Cost of Freedom (Cancelled)

Henri

On August 14, 1940, Henri Geffroy celebrated his twenty-fourth birthday: if celebration can indeed be defined as sulking in a cold, damp jail cell in Belmarsh, England. He had a fine present, though: he was the only inmate in his new cell. The guard rarely checked on him, though there wasn't much he could do to escape, anyway: so he was surprised when he was ordered to stand to attention to receive a visitor - in army uniform, at that.

"Good morning, mate."

Henri offered a cursory glance.

"So, you're Henri?"

A nod.

"Captain Henry Spears, British Army." A gloved hand extended itself through the iron bars. "Funny, we have the same name."

The visitor's presence had been acknowledged. Henri did not even bother with eye contact anymore.

The hand retracted. There was a furtive look round the cell. "What are you in here for, again?"

"What do you want?"

"Just some answers to some questions." Spears forced a grin.

Henri rolled his eyes. "I am a communist."

"Why?"

"It only seems fair."

"Because?"

"The Americans are greedy imperialist capitalist pigs, and the Soviets are a change of pace." Henri offered a condescending grin. Even in prison, there was a strange freedom. Henri could say whatever he wanted: he was here already, after all.

Spears moved on. "Who are your parents?"

"My father was English, my mother Swiss. My father died of drink, leaving my mother to raise me alone in London."

"Any possible reason why your pa went like that?"

"He survived the Great War."

"I see." Spears was reading a file as he talked. "Did you have a good mother?"
"She managed. Wanted me to have a good education. She is why I can speak French and some German."

"She still around?"

"Pneumonia got to her two years ago."

Spears lit a pipe. "Your education, what was it in?"

"Chemical engineering."

"I see. Mr. Geffroy, are you aware of the nature of the chemical reaction between chlorine and any metal?"

"It is explosive."

"What about hydrogen and chlorine?"

"Likewise." Henri furrowed his brows. "What are you getting at here?"

Spears leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Mr. Geffroy, do you hate National Socialism?"

Henri did not answer, letting the implications of his possible responses set in.

"I resent whoever has put me in this place."

"Mr. Geffroy, how would you like to be a part of the war to liberate Europe?"

Henri raised a brow. "You want me to help you fight against the Germans?"

"For a hefty salary, of course," Spears replied, anticipating Henri's next question. "We will get you out of here, first. Then we will train you, and put you in a team with other people just like you, talented young men and women hungry for liberty and justice. You will penetrate deep into enemy lines, and you will do whatever we will tell you to do - for a nice reward, and the freedom of Europe as well, if you're also interested in that."

Henri mulled his options. Captain Spears was taking advantage of him, using his own circumstances to his advantage. He would just be another pawn to the Allies, and he would probably die before Hitler did.

But what other choice did he have?

"This team, does it have a name?"

"It's still new, but for now we call it Special Operations Executive. The SOE."