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Working on a sheet, I'll try to get it up soon-ish. In the mean while, found this cool picture that could work for the Neo Roma Imperialis Legionaries or some elite variant like Principes
Can I use this to make a character?
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I struggle when I roleplay between staying in character and giving in to my inner desires to just fuck with people.
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Can I use this to make a character?
<Snipped quote by Catchphrase>
Yes, it's open.
Splendid I shall see if I can come up with a good character
Is this open to everyone to join in on?
As soon as Vinceny had gotten far away enough from the warehouse, he hailed a passing cab. As he was being driven towards his main hideout, he pondered what to do about his current predicament. If he ran he was a dead man. He hid, dead. He had to find out who framed him, beat the shit out of them and see if anyone else had a hand in it. Best way to do that, find The Middle Man.
"Yo bud, we're here."
Vincent looked out the window and saw The Caramel Truffle, a strip club he stayed at, or rather, the room above a strip club. He fished out some cash from his wallet and palmed it off to the cabbie. "Keep the change."
He walked into the club and was greeted by a few of the employees that worked there. He headed past the stage, through the back room where a few of the girls were getting ready for their time on stage, and went up a stairway. As he entered his small apartment, he shut the door and fell face first onto his couch.
Revenge can wait, he needed to heal up a bit first. And get some food later. Before he knew it, he was out like a light.
"Yo bud, we're here."
Vincent looked out the window and saw The Caramel Truffle, a strip club he stayed at, or rather, the room above a strip club. He fished out some cash from his wallet and palmed it off to the cabbie. "Keep the change."
He walked into the club and was greeted by a few of the employees that worked there. He headed past the stage, through the back room where a few of the girls were getting ready for their time on stage, and went up a stairway. As he entered his small apartment, he shut the door and fell face first onto his couch.
Revenge can wait, he needed to heal up a bit first. And get some food later. Before he knew it, he was out like a light.
@LePouvantail i have a thought. My character is looking for someone, maybe he can reach out to your guy for help "coercing" people to give up info?
Name: Anhaga Farmon
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Image/Appearance: http://img02.deviantart.net/2841/i/2015/107/c/5/anglo_saxon_king_by_jfoliveras-d7j6r6f.jpg
Standing at 6'0", with a slightly muscular build. Has red hair and blue eyes with a short beard underneath his helm.
Title/Rank/Occupation: Companion for Baldur Meldun.
Skills/achievements/etc:
(High-Level) Sword and Shieldsman.
(Medium-Level) Story telling.
Killed ten men in less than a minute (though they were common bandits and no match for his skill)
Is a fast runner and has a lot of stamina.
Is very cunning.
Can swim, but not very far from shore.
Personality/(Dis)likes/hobbies/etc:
He is calm, cautious and cunning. He never rushes into a fight if he can help it, he prefers to think of a plan and then get into the thick of it. He isn't one for being vain or greedy. Prefers to keep himself well groomed, never growing his beard too long and always keeping his hair about medium length, usually in a pony tail. He is extremely hard to upset, but when he gets angry he never raises his voice, always keeping it at a normal volume, except when in battle and needing to communicate. He is very paranoid of people, and trusts only a few people not to stab him in the back, but to have the decency of allowing him a fight before he dies. He is a fan of taking baths. He prefers the company of men.
Biography: When he was young, he grew up in a small village some distance south of Skagastrond lands. His life there was fairly simple, fight, train, eat, fight, sleep, in that order usually. He grew up the only child of his parents, but lived with his grandmother, his parents died whilst raiding. His people didn't trade, hell they barely got along with one another. They preferred raiding others, and never farmed lands, they were also suspicious of outsiders and usually killed them if they lingered too lobg near them. He had a lover back home ever since he was fourteen, his lover was a year younger, and also male. This was a major crime, and harsh punishment awaited those who committed it.
When he was seventeen, he and his lover were caught having fooling around by his lovers elder brother. His lover betrayed him, screaming that Anhaga had forced himself upon him. Anhaga felt betrayed, and ran off before anyone could say or do anything. His lover and his family hunted him for a while, with the help of the rest of the village, until he crossed into the lands of Skagastrond. There he managed to sign on to a caravan as a baggage handler, and did that till he was nineteen, when a raiding party attacked the merchant caravan. He grabbed a sword and shield a dead guard had on him, and fought side by side the remaing guards. He killed a fair number of the attackers on his own, and only a few managed to flee. Afterwards, he found that the raiding party had a memeber of his village in it. It mattered little to him, they weren't his people anymore.
After that, word spread about his fighting prowess. People who thought him worth it hired him as a bodyguard; others challenged him to fights. Only one won against him, and only just. It was a mock fight with sticks, and if it was real he would've probably been killed. But, respected the man who beat him, and now follows him anywhere he goes.
Equipment : Straight sword, round shield, helmet and mail armour.
Heres my CS
Name: Anhaga Farmon
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Image/Appearance: http://img02.deviantart.net/2841/i/2015/107/c/5/anglo_saxon_king_by_jfoliveras-d7j6r6f.jpg
Standing at 6'0", with a slightly muscular build. Has red hair and blue eyes with a short beard underneath his helm.
Title/Rank/Occupation: Companion for Baldur Meldun.
Skills/achievements/etc:
(High-Level) Sword and Shieldsman.
(Medium-Level) Story telling.
Killed ten men in less than a minute (though they were common bandits and no match for his skill)
Is a fast runner and has a lot of stamina.
Is very cunning.
Can swim, but not very far from shore.
Personality/(Dis)likes/hobbies/etc:
He is calm, cautious and cunning. He never rushes into a fight if he can help it, he prefers to think of a plan and then get into the thick of it. He isn't one for being vain or greedy. Prefers to keep himself well groomed, never growing his beard too long and always keeping his hair about medium length, usually in a pony tail. He is extremely hard to upset, but when he gets angry he never raises his voice, always keeping it at a normal volume, except when in battle and needing to communicate. He is very paranoid of people, and trusts only a few people not to stab him in the back, but to have the decency of allowing him a fight before he dies. He is a fan of taking baths. He prefers the company of men.
Biography: When he was young, he grew up in a small village some distance south of Skagastrond lands. His life there was fairly simple, fight, train, eat, fight, sleep, in that order usually. He grew up the only child of his parents, but lived with his grandmother, his parents died whilst raiding. His people didn't trade, hell they barely got along with one another. They preferred raiding others, and never farmed lands, they were also suspicious of outsiders and usually killed them if they lingered too lobg near them. He had a lover back home ever since he was fourteen, his lover was a year younger, and also male. This was a major crime, and harsh punishment awaited those who committed it.
When he was seventeen, he and his lover were caught having fooling around by his lovers elder brother. His lover betrayed him, screaming that Anhaga had forced himself upon him. Anhaga felt betrayed, and ran off before anyone could say or do anything. His lover and his family hunted him for a while, with the help of the rest of the village, until he crossed into the lands of Skagastrond. There he managed to sign on to a caravan as a baggage handler, and did that till he was nineteen, when a raiding party attacked the merchant caravan. He grabbed a sword and shield a dead guard had on him, and fought side by side the remaing guards. He killed a fair number of the attackers on his own, and only a few managed to flee. Afterwards, he found that the raiding party had a memeber of his village in it. It mattered little to him, they weren't his people anymore.
After that, word spread about his fighting prowess. People who thought him worth it hired him as a bodyguard; others challenged him to fights. Only one won against him, and only just. It was a mock fight with sticks, and if it was real he would've probably been killed. But, respected the man who beat him, and now follows him anywhere he goes.
Equipment : Straight sword, round shield, helmet and mail armour.
Name: Anhaga Farmon
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Image/Appearance: http://img02.deviantart.net/2841/i/2015/107/c/5/anglo_saxon_king_by_jfoliveras-d7j6r6f.jpg
Standing at 6'0", with a slightly muscular build. Has red hair and blue eyes with a short beard underneath his helm.
Title/Rank/Occupation: Companion for Baldur Meldun.
Skills/achievements/etc:
(High-Level) Sword and Shieldsman.
(Medium-Level) Story telling.
Killed ten men in less than a minute (though they were common bandits and no match for his skill)
Is a fast runner and has a lot of stamina.
Is very cunning.
Can swim, but not very far from shore.
Personality/(Dis)likes/hobbies/etc:
He is calm, cautious and cunning. He never rushes into a fight if he can help it, he prefers to think of a plan and then get into the thick of it. He isn't one for being vain or greedy. Prefers to keep himself well groomed, never growing his beard too long and always keeping his hair about medium length, usually in a pony tail. He is extremely hard to upset, but when he gets angry he never raises his voice, always keeping it at a normal volume, except when in battle and needing to communicate. He is very paranoid of people, and trusts only a few people not to stab him in the back, but to have the decency of allowing him a fight before he dies. He is a fan of taking baths. He prefers the company of men.
Biography: When he was young, he grew up in a small village some distance south of Skagastrond lands. His life there was fairly simple, fight, train, eat, fight, sleep, in that order usually. He grew up the only child of his parents, but lived with his grandmother, his parents died whilst raiding. His people didn't trade, hell they barely got along with one another. They preferred raiding others, and never farmed lands, they were also suspicious of outsiders and usually killed them if they lingered too lobg near them. He had a lover back home ever since he was fourteen, his lover was a year younger, and also male. This was a major crime, and harsh punishment awaited those who committed it.
When he was seventeen, he and his lover were caught having fooling around by his lovers elder brother. His lover betrayed him, screaming that Anhaga had forced himself upon him. Anhaga felt betrayed, and ran off before anyone could say or do anything. His lover and his family hunted him for a while, with the help of the rest of the village, until he crossed into the lands of Skagastrond. There he managed to sign on to a caravan as a baggage handler, and did that till he was nineteen, when a raiding party attacked the merchant caravan. He grabbed a sword and shield a dead guard had on him, and fought side by side the remaing guards. He killed a fair number of the attackers on his own, and only a few managed to flee. Afterwards, he found that the raiding party had a memeber of his village in it. It mattered little to him, they weren't his people anymore.
After that, word spread about his fighting prowess. People who thought him worth it hired him as a bodyguard; others challenged him to fights. Only one won against him, and only just. It was a mock fight with sticks, and if it was real he would've probably been killed. But, respected the man who beat him, and now follows him anywhere he goes.
Equipment : Straight sword, round shield, helmet and mail armour.
Vincent got dressed, calm as a cucumber. He held no grudge agaisnt the Bertenilli family, it was just buisness. He understood. What he hated, was the fact that he wasn't paid for the hit he performed. That pissed him off more than anything else.
Then the chest full of gold was flopped open. He stared at it with open greed, and a practically drooling mouth. That was a lot of gold. It would make a lot of money.
All he had to do was take revenge. He reached out to touch the gold, then paused, and stood back up. He had been given a similiar offer before for a similiar job, that went tits up. Lots of people died because of that. If he took it and failed, he'd be their bitch at best, dead in a gutter at worst.
"Think you can do that?" An obvious question with an obvious answer. He looked at the gold chest, and slammed the lid closed.
"Keep your money, this is a personal matter for me now. My reputation is on the line for this fuck up. If people think they can get me to work for no pay, no one will pay. And example will be made of this fucker."
He walked past Helena and made his way up the stairs, without looking back at her he shouted to her.
"Consider my payment for this job already paid in full. After all, you left me alive. That is enough."
He walked out to the middle of the warehouse and waited, he could only leave if she allowed him to. He didn't want to get gunned down by trigger happy goons.
Then the chest full of gold was flopped open. He stared at it with open greed, and a practically drooling mouth. That was a lot of gold. It would make a lot of money.
All he had to do was take revenge. He reached out to touch the gold, then paused, and stood back up. He had been given a similiar offer before for a similiar job, that went tits up. Lots of people died because of that. If he took it and failed, he'd be their bitch at best, dead in a gutter at worst.
"Think you can do that?" An obvious question with an obvious answer. He looked at the gold chest, and slammed the lid closed.
"Keep your money, this is a personal matter for me now. My reputation is on the line for this fuck up. If people think they can get me to work for no pay, no one will pay. And example will be made of this fucker."
He walked past Helena and made his way up the stairs, without looking back at her he shouted to her.
"Consider my payment for this job already paid in full. After all, you left me alive. That is enough."
He walked out to the middle of the warehouse and waited, he could only leave if she allowed him to. He didn't want to get gunned down by trigger happy goons.
@Ruby
Lucy's Diner, short time before abduction
Vincent was becoming paranoid. Not only had the client not turned up, but word is getting around about what happened at the bar. He didn't like what he was hearing. Best case scenario for him, the job was frame work and the client was running late. Worst case, the job was frame work, and the client had no intention of paying him anything for his services and may intend on killing him.
That's why he chose this diner as a meeting point for this job. He uses different places every job, and they are all public places where anyone can walk in and not be suspicious. Well, within reason. The place was fairly empty, just a few people finishing the graveyard shift mixes with people who start work early. That's one reason Vincent took this line of work, he can choose his hours.
Then, he spots a couple of big buggers in suits enter the front. With a glance he knew what the were, heavy hitters for one of the families. And he could guess which one. Bertinelli family.
This could either be really good, or really bad.
A couple more entered behind the first pair, and a few more came in through the back. They went up to the other patrons and whispered something in their ears. Whatever they said must have been good, because they left in a hurry, leaving only Vincent and the goons.
Yep, this is gonna go badly for him. Shit.
The approach him with caution, they don't know if he is armed or if he could take them all out without a weapon. He didn't intend to find out. When the first goon got withing arms length, he grabbed the man by his tie and slammed his face down onto the table he was sitting at. He grabbed the goons gun, pointed at the window, and fired.
The glass shattered and the goons went for their guns, but he was already out the window. He ran around the back of the diner and ran down a narrow alley. He looked behind him to see if they would follow, then he felt something hit him in the gut. He fell to the ground and clutched his stomach, and had enough time to see the the ring covered fist smack him in the face.
Warehouse
He woke up with a major headache. He looked around to see where he was, but couldn't see. This panicked him for a moment, but only a small moment, until he realised he wasn't blind, just had his eyes covered. And his mouth. He heard footsteps, the clatter of a chair, then the tear of the tape from his eyes and mouth. That hurt, almost as much as his face did from the punch, and the gash reminded him of that.
He looked into the eyes of a woman he had never met but knew about. Helena Bertenilli. Well fuckballs.
She stared into his eyes for a few moments, probably searching for fear or anger on his part. He had none. The only look he had in his eye was that of curiousity and acceptance. He was curious about why she was here, what she wanted from him, where he was, but most importantly, why he was naked.
And acceptance for what may happen to him. He knew he would meet a bloody end some day, he just hoped they left his junk alone.
When she started talking, he paid close attention to every word she said. She wanted answers, well so did he. And he would give some and hope to get some in return.
"It's in your best interest to talk. So start talking." That's his que then.
"Well to start with it is a pleasure to meet you Miss Bertenilli, though I wish it were under better circumstances. There is nothing much I can tell you I am afraid. I do not know who hired me, I was given the job through the usual channels that I normally get work. It was a simple job, kill a guy to make a statement. The bigger it was, the more I would get paid. It was good pay and easy work, one job and I would have no need to work for a year. They also wanted me to whisper in the targets ear that it was your family that sent me. I did. I performed the job, made a big statement and laid low for a few hours till the meet. The client was a no show and, you can guess where it goes from here."
Vincent cleared his throat and wiggles around a bit. The chair was cold, and his legs were spread wide, he'd rather not think on why. Needless to say, his balls were freezing, and he was a bit embarrassed about being nude in front of people. But that could wait.
"Now, I have three questions for you before we continue on with this, Miss Bertenilli. Firstly, who told you it was me who took the job? Second, who told you where I would be? Thridly, can I get some pants please? A man like me being naked is unpleasant for everyone in this room, including me."
Lucy's Diner, short time before abduction
Vincent was becoming paranoid. Not only had the client not turned up, but word is getting around about what happened at the bar. He didn't like what he was hearing. Best case scenario for him, the job was frame work and the client was running late. Worst case, the job was frame work, and the client had no intention of paying him anything for his services and may intend on killing him.
That's why he chose this diner as a meeting point for this job. He uses different places every job, and they are all public places where anyone can walk in and not be suspicious. Well, within reason. The place was fairly empty, just a few people finishing the graveyard shift mixes with people who start work early. That's one reason Vincent took this line of work, he can choose his hours.
Then, he spots a couple of big buggers in suits enter the front. With a glance he knew what the were, heavy hitters for one of the families. And he could guess which one. Bertinelli family.
This could either be really good, or really bad.
A couple more entered behind the first pair, and a few more came in through the back. They went up to the other patrons and whispered something in their ears. Whatever they said must have been good, because they left in a hurry, leaving only Vincent and the goons.
Yep, this is gonna go badly for him. Shit.
The approach him with caution, they don't know if he is armed or if he could take them all out without a weapon. He didn't intend to find out. When the first goon got withing arms length, he grabbed the man by his tie and slammed his face down onto the table he was sitting at. He grabbed the goons gun, pointed at the window, and fired.
The glass shattered and the goons went for their guns, but he was already out the window. He ran around the back of the diner and ran down a narrow alley. He looked behind him to see if they would follow, then he felt something hit him in the gut. He fell to the ground and clutched his stomach, and had enough time to see the the ring covered fist smack him in the face.
Warehouse
He woke up with a major headache. He looked around to see where he was, but couldn't see. This panicked him for a moment, but only a small moment, until he realised he wasn't blind, just had his eyes covered. And his mouth. He heard footsteps, the clatter of a chair, then the tear of the tape from his eyes and mouth. That hurt, almost as much as his face did from the punch, and the gash reminded him of that.
He looked into the eyes of a woman he had never met but knew about. Helena Bertenilli. Well fuckballs.
She stared into his eyes for a few moments, probably searching for fear or anger on his part. He had none. The only look he had in his eye was that of curiousity and acceptance. He was curious about why she was here, what she wanted from him, where he was, but most importantly, why he was naked.
And acceptance for what may happen to him. He knew he would meet a bloody end some day, he just hoped they left his junk alone.
When she started talking, he paid close attention to every word she said. She wanted answers, well so did he. And he would give some and hope to get some in return.
"It's in your best interest to talk. So start talking." That's his que then.
"Well to start with it is a pleasure to meet you Miss Bertenilli, though I wish it were under better circumstances. There is nothing much I can tell you I am afraid. I do not know who hired me, I was given the job through the usual channels that I normally get work. It was a simple job, kill a guy to make a statement. The bigger it was, the more I would get paid. It was good pay and easy work, one job and I would have no need to work for a year. They also wanted me to whisper in the targets ear that it was your family that sent me. I did. I performed the job, made a big statement and laid low for a few hours till the meet. The client was a no show and, you can guess where it goes from here."
Vincent cleared his throat and wiggles around a bit. The chair was cold, and his legs were spread wide, he'd rather not think on why. Needless to say, his balls were freezing, and he was a bit embarrassed about being nude in front of people. But that could wait.
"Now, I have three questions for you before we continue on with this, Miss Bertenilli. Firstly, who told you it was me who took the job? Second, who told you where I would be? Thridly, can I get some pants please? A man like me being naked is unpleasant for everyone in this room, including me."
You have my support
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