@HylianRose It's cool, I'm patient and @Nevix already mentioned they aren't too fussed about when people post. I figured it'd a week or more for them to get back from holiday and whatever else is happening until things started getting moving again.
Hjalti
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- Hjalti 9 yrs ago
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@HylianRose Still here. Just couldn't post again since I was the last person to post.
Semi-related, but goddammit I'm craving a cyberpunk RP.
Reed
Reeds ears pricked up at the mention of the name "Undying." In his long life he had never encountered another like him, unable to die, and the name elicited a response from him, he just wasn't sure what. Excitement? Longing? Probably both, but they both sank back into grim resignation when he realized it was likely some egotistical moniker. He'd experienced it throughout history, people adding "the Great" or other such titles to their name. He'd earned a few himself over the ages and hated them all, but it was surprising to hear such a moniker used in this day and age.
Either way it seemed like some of those present knew each other and were busy making noise that rivaled the noise of the airport crowd until "the Undying" mentioned leaving limousines. Reed sighed. He didn't want flashy, extravagant, luxurious or rich. He'd spent centuries avoiding such things and such people, with the exception of some bodyguard work over the millennia, but the last he'd worked such a job was decades ago. He couldn't really remember the mans name, they all blended together after a while, but he remembered people calling him "the Enforcer" and helping someone who was making money selling alcohol. If he remembered things right, it had all fallen apart and he couldn't have bothered going to jail, so he shot himself on some train tracks and started over.
Regardless, he followed the group outside, standing by a humming oriental-looking girl as he waited on the rest.
@HylianRose@Zordon@Carlsberg@Arcalept@BlackPanther@Spoiledmilk@Nevix
What's Enter the Gungeon? I've heard of the first two games, but that one is lost on me.
Same kind of twin-stick shooter rougelike as BOI & Nuclear Throne and it's gotten really popular. Published by Devolver Digital (The guys who also published Hotline Miami) but ALOT more bullet hell-ish. Almost everything is a gun or bullet related pun too, like versing the "Gundead". Lots of shutouts to other franchises, like the Windup gun from Futurama.
Here's a YouTube LP vid by Northenlion that I quite like.
I saw very clearly in Nev's Signature that he would be going on vacation
I made my first post knowing this.
Baring that in mind, how's everyone else doing tonight? :D
Taking a break from studying for a math final tomorrow. My brain is burning out, so I think I'm gonna play some BOI:Afterbirth or Nuclear Throne. Maybe Enter the Gungeon to try and git gud. I wish I was drinking though, decided to spend my spare $$$ on the Isaac add-on, since it'll last longer than tequila. Could friggin use a drink, goddamn math.
@Nevix Posted and CS is in the Char thread.
Reed
He was asleep when the knock came at the door, which was hardly surprising. He spent most of his time asleep, the sounds of clashing swords echoing throughout his mind. The sounds of heavy feet, weighed down by weapons and armor, sloshing through dirt-become-mud from the blood spilled on the battlefield, the cries of men fighting and dying all around him, horses screaming, cannons and guns firing, all of histories battles blending together in one cacophonous roar. He ignored the knock.
Half a minute later the knock rang out again, louder and harder, but still he ignored it and tried to drift back to sleep. The knock came again. They weren't going away. Sighing, Reed sat up, swinging he feet over the edge of the mattress and rubbing his eyes. In the back of his mind, amidst the sounds of battle, an irritation was forming but he consciously ignored it. Walking to the door and swinging it open, something fell to the ground. There was no one there. Stooping down to pick up the item, he found himself holding a letter, his name written on the envelope.
It couldn't of been his landlady, he was paid up for rent for the rest of the year just so he could avoid these kinds of interactions. Tearing open the envelope he read the letter and sighed, turning around to walk back to his bed before collapsing onto the mattress once more. He tried to fall back asleep, but the irritation was there again. Louder this time. He sat back up.
So someone was knew what he was and was summoning him under threat of exposure. He didn't really care, but if he was exposed that would mean dealing with people. Lots of people for a very long time. He was better off going there, telling this person to fuck off and going home, it'd take less time and effort.
He made a few calls to a few pawn shops and made a few trips. By the end of the day he had a single long term storage shed payed up for the next year, $20,000 in cash and a small private plane taking him to Seattle. The last thing he wanted to deal with was a passenger plane full of people. He slept the whole way there.
"Fuck." Reed muttered as he stood in the room. He'd been referred to the airport upon arrival and found himself staring at a crowd of several other people, and that's what bothered him. People, and people who drew attention no less. He thought this was going to be some one-on-one "I want you to do a job for me" thing that he usually got when people found out he couldn't die, but apparently this was a heist crew or something stupid. The last thing he needed was more people making more noise. Reed found a wall and leaned back against it, closing his eyes and trying to sleep.
Name: Reed
Age: Mid-40's-to-50's
Appearance: Minus the medkit and gun.
Bio: For the past thirty or so years, Reed has done nothing of any real importance. He sleeps most of the day, watches TV when he's awake and typically spends most of his time out of his small, studio apartment either bowling or playing the bowling alley's nearby arcade games. His earliest memory is of Rome burning while he walked away. He has no idea if he had any hand in the event or what he was even doing there, but his long life involved travelling from land to land. He remembers fighting as a soldier for countless armies in numerous wars, working as a blacksmith, a stable-hand, a farmer, a rancher, a bartender, a bodyguard, an assassin, a merchant, a chimney sweep, an electrician, a mechanic, a teacher, a babysitter, a boxer, painter, a carpenter, a builder, a bricklayer... The list goes on and on. He remembers fighting on the docks of Nihon as one of the first Caucasian visitors to the Land of the Rising Sun. What he doesn't remember is when he stopped caring.
Personality: Reed seems anti-social to say the least. He rarely speaks and when he does he shows very little interest in the conversation, as if he has places he would rather be and things he would rather be doing, which is exactly how he feels.
Possessions: His day to day clothes as well as a sizable crate full of valuable items, treasures, trinkets, relics and artifacts he has collected throughout history.
Skills: Reed is a Jack-of-all-trades and a master of some. He's a skilled fighter in various styles of hand-to-had combat as well as with swords and other melee weapons. He's proficient with firearms but shows little interest in them overall. He's quite well read, fluent in multiple language, both dead tongues and those used today. He is knowledgeable enough in terms of electronics, mechanics, carpentry and other forms of construction and repair that he rarely needs to rely on others for help.
Fast facts: Reed doesn't fear anything. He's learned long ago that he cannot be killed by anything, so he's not particular concerned by any "dangers". He's had enough experience in combat that while he still feels pain, he's long since learned to push through it and focus past it. His has no particular favourite food and stopped caring about music long ago.
Age: Mid-40's-to-50's
Appearance: Minus the medkit and gun.
Bio: For the past thirty or so years, Reed has done nothing of any real importance. He sleeps most of the day, watches TV when he's awake and typically spends most of his time out of his small, studio apartment either bowling or playing the bowling alley's nearby arcade games. His earliest memory is of Rome burning while he walked away. He has no idea if he had any hand in the event or what he was even doing there, but his long life involved travelling from land to land. He remembers fighting as a soldier for countless armies in numerous wars, working as a blacksmith, a stable-hand, a farmer, a rancher, a bartender, a bodyguard, an assassin, a merchant, a chimney sweep, an electrician, a mechanic, a teacher, a babysitter, a boxer, painter, a carpenter, a builder, a bricklayer... The list goes on and on. He remembers fighting on the docks of Nihon as one of the first Caucasian visitors to the Land of the Rising Sun. What he doesn't remember is when he stopped caring.
Personality: Reed seems anti-social to say the least. He rarely speaks and when he does he shows very little interest in the conversation, as if he has places he would rather be and things he would rather be doing, which is exactly how he feels.
Possessions: His day to day clothes as well as a sizable crate full of valuable items, treasures, trinkets, relics and artifacts he has collected throughout history.
Skills: Reed is a Jack-of-all-trades and a master of some. He's a skilled fighter in various styles of hand-to-had combat as well as with swords and other melee weapons. He's proficient with firearms but shows little interest in them overall. He's quite well read, fluent in multiple language, both dead tongues and those used today. He is knowledgeable enough in terms of electronics, mechanics, carpentry and other forms of construction and repair that he rarely needs to rely on others for help.
Fast facts: Reed doesn't fear anything. He's learned long ago that he cannot be killed by anything, so he's not particular concerned by any "dangers". He's had enough experience in combat that while he still feels pain, he's long since learned to push through it and focus past it. His has no particular favourite food and stopped caring about music long ago.
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