Jarl Coolgruuf

The Sunday Group - The Flicker Cases

@Penny It says "violence"

Clive

A little mood music

Name: Clive T. Davidson

Age: 33

Appearance: Clive stands at just under 6'0 with a medium build and broad, angular face. A prominent brow ridge frames tired, but piercing eyes that seem to read your soul if you stare too long. He has a tendency to wear jackets and long pants as often as is feasible if the weather permits in order to conceal equipment on his person wherever he goes.

Art by Hyungwoo Kim

Concept: Disgraced Texas Ranger who's currently wanted for the murder of a suspect in his custody and his partner. What none of his peers know is that what he killed was actually the thing that ate them, but of course he couldn't tell them that. He's already a wanted murderer and a cop killer to boot. Adding "believes in werewolves" to his case file would do him no favors. Clive has traveled the country since that night on a one man crusade to find everything that goes bump in the night and shoot it until it stops moving. Recently, he came to the conclusion that he's reached the peak of what he can do alone and has been looking for a team he can work with.

Powers/Skills: Clive is just as human as everyone else. No special powers, no seer signs, no dip in the Styx for him. He just knows a lot about a lot of different beasties and he's a clever son of a gun. His experience with investigation in a law enforcement setting transitioned very well into investigating supernatural activity (not to mention his firearms training) and he's grown to be very resourceful, using any and all means at his disposal to level the playing field against creatures of the night. His favorite tool is his smooth bore, pump action shotgun and his handmade shotgun shells, but he also uses a variety of hobo-tier tactics and equipment. Clive is not above sticking an iron shiv into a fey folk's neck. He also plays a mean hand of poker and is worryingly good with a hatchet.

Character Wants: To expand his monster hunting knowledge and perhaps a group to help in his endeavors. Also, a bed. He's gotten more than a little tired of sleeping in his car.

Writer Wants: Looking to participate in an active roleplay with a diverse cast of characters. I also want Clive to grow as a person and make him really work at being a team player in a number of ways such as accepting that his way isn't always the best way, relying on others, etc as well as sharing everything he knows about committing war crimes against monsters.

The Sunday Group - The Flicker Cases

@Penny Gunman McFaceshooty is on the case! Although I'm tempted to take a crack at another character

The Sunday Group - The Flicker Cases

Oh are we back on our bullshit? I think we're back on our bullshit

Extracriminal

The Baroness cocked her head as she watched their mysterious and obscured benefactor. His mannerisms were strange but fitting for someone like him. She smiled as he talked up the assembled crew, including her. As much as she tried to deny it, flattery went a long way with Aniya.
"Such big words." she mused, "How do you propose we do that? Even with all this "girl power", as the Americans say, that is very tall order."

This would certainly be a change of pace for her. She wasn't in the business of changing the world so much as comfortably padding her wallet. That being said, she was couldn't say she didn't like the idea of some grand plan. She figured it would be a good bit of fun, if nothing else. The assembled crew was certainly a diverse one. Aniya had developed a nack for putting faces to names and descriptions so the brief intro about each of the other women fell right into place in her mind right beside new emerging details.

Tall female, white, athletic physique, scarred face, black hair. Sable. A serious one to be sure, just at a glance. Seemed to have a fondness for leather and black clothing. Her accent made Anyia feel almost at home even if her tone was a tad hostile. Estonian? Latvian? Somewhere along the old Bloc anyway. It didn't matter to much to her. She'd know soon enough.

Average height female, fair complexion, reddish blonde. Vos. Her features seemed familiar to the Russian. Perhaps she had eastern European somewhere in her family tree because she certainly didn't sound like it. Or perhaps she was hiding an accent.

Above average height female, white, long blonde hair. Johnny. Interesting name for a woman but Aniya was sure there was a story behind it.

Above average height female, white, medium length white hair (dyed), colored contacts (burgundy). Tick. Also an interesting name for someone with an equally eccentric appearance.

Winds of Fate - A Thieves' Adventure (Semi-Tabletop)

Maréngo and Solange

---

The pirate made his way downstairs rubbing his head all the while, trying in vain to soothe the pounding ache. What he wouldn't give for a--
"Coffee?" he said like he was seeing a long lost friend for th first time in years.
The delightful scent of spiced coffee drew him in immediately. He made a beeline straight toward Solange and went to grab the source of that welcoming aroma. Some caffeine would surely help him perk up a bit until he could find time to nap off this acursed hangover. If not, at least it would make him feel like he was doing something to reach that goal.

Solange's eyebrows perked up as Maréngo reached for the tainted coffee, her own hand moving to snatch it away.  The schemer inside said that it'd be foolish to let the man drink the coffee for number of reasons, but that bitch never let her have any fun. Besides, it wouldn't kill him, at least according to the notes she read and she was fairly certain she had the ingredients for a remedy if need be. She smiled like a fiend and her eyes shined with delight. Her hand slowed, pushing the drink closer to Maréngo.
"Ms. Sheri brewed this herself, love. It's quite good, actually. I was surprised how the flowery notes cut through the acid. Hopefully it holds well," she said, shaking her own vial. Despite Maréngo's efforts she could still smell the alcohol and last night's company clinging to him. She shifted on her stool and rested her chin in her hand, giving him a winking side eye. "Looks like you had an eventful night. I always heard hangovers on the seas are almost as lethal as a wife who found her husband in bed with her own sister. Hopefully your stomach holds well too, darling."
Her devilish smile gave Maréngo pause as he lifted the horn to his lips. He may not be a learned man but he knew a schemer when he saw one. Clearly she thought honeyed words and a pretty face would win him over. Maybe it would, but he'd be sure to keep an eye on her.

The small talk distracted him from his beverage and he lowered the horn and returned her smile with a smirk of his own.
"Only for the unprepared and I'm more than prepared."
"For hangovers, surely," she said, her eyes glancing down at his untouched drink. "Although I imagine being a man of the sea you're vastly more prepared for this voyage than the rest of us. I've only ever been on a ship once before." She twisted a lock of hair around her finger. "If I ever needed a shoulder to lean on while I secure my sea legs, could I count on yours? I fear the others would not be so kind."
Maréngo hid a frown behind the horn of coffee as he let the pleadently smooth poison wash over his tongue and into his belly.
"Aye, you can but I'm warnin' you now that I'm not just another sap like poor Percy. I was born at night but not last night, understand?"
He took another long sip of coffee and sighed with content. This was just the thing he needed after last night. Perhaps he could pick up some beans to brew on their voyage. Something to warm his belly and warm the crew up to him. As a seaman himself, he knew how far simple luxuries went with men who might spend weeks away from the comforts on dry land.

Solange pretended to be distracted and turned her head as Maréngo took a drink. Her grin was under control when she looked back, as if she was amused by his statement rather than his misfortune. "Clearly, although I got to say that there's more to poor Percy than meets the eye. Who knows, if we make it back from this journey in one piece and you stick around you might find out that the two of you have quite a bit in common." She nodded to the coffee. "It tastes good doesn't it , love? I must find out where Sheri gets her beans."
Maréngo couldn't deny how good the brew was if he wanted to. He nodded and happily sipped his drink really wanting to savor the taste before he committed himself to this voyage. It's the simple pleasure that make life worth living, also the big pleasures. Those were the real reasons he carried on the way he did
"I'll be sure to look for a good batch of beans if we get a chance to stop by the market."

Extracriminal

Aniya stepped out of the car sent to drive her the last leg of her trip and paused to smooth out her suit jacket before retrieving her bags. She thanked the driver in her heavily accented English once she had everything and headed inside the nondescript paint shop. The click of freshly polished shoes against the floor signaled her approach and her choice of clothing drew a curious glance from the man behind the counter who she presumed to be Mr. Cheng as she gave him a nod and continued past him. The assassin usually traveled more discreetly but she also didn't want to pass up the chance to make a solid first impression with her new associates. She'd even had her suit dry cleaned just for the occasion. Her immaculate makeup and hair made her seem more ready for a board meeting than organized crime but she wouldn't be there punching in the numbers from the recording if she wasn't good at what she did. And she was very good at what she did.

Down the stairs she went with her bags in tow and stared puzzled at the hand print scanner. Out of curiosity she placed her hand on the sensor and snatched her hand back when she was granted access. For the first time since this all began she was starting to question what she had really got herself into. Who just has access to hand prints? She had never even had her finger prints taken (years of diligence and almost obsessive care on her part) never mind her entire hand print. The sudden bolt of paranoia was soon pushed aside as she couldn't help but be impressed with what she saw beyond the door. All the electronics and equipment couldn't have been even remotely cheap. Clearly the Senior was a very wealthy and well connected individual. Not that she was any stranger to such a person, but this one had quickly proven himself a different breed than the common corrupt politician or crooked business person. At the bottom of the stairs Aniya spotted another woman lounging, apparently waiting for the rest of her team and started to ponder which skill set her new, rather grim looking friend possessed. She smiled as arranged her bags in a somewhat empty corner of the room. Her accent was thick but intelligible as she spoke.
"Only one? Is this where I find out everything was elaborate trap and you are police officer?" she joked.
Hopefully her attempt at an icebreaker would land otherwise she feared the wait for the rest of the crew might be a bit awkward.

Extracriminal

Baroness

_________________________________________________
__________________________________________________

Name:

Aniya Baranov

Age:

34

Nationality:

Russian

Appearance:

At first glance, Aniya is very easy on the eyes. She's a tall blonde bombshell with long legs and visible muscle tone from her line of work. As an extension of her personal standards of professionalism, she takes great pride in her appearance. She almost always wears tailored suits on the job (her favorite being pinstripes) and even takes the time to style her hair and do a full makeup routine. Ending someone's life without looking your absolute best is just plain rude in her opinion.

Personality:

Direct and decisive, the Baroness prides herself on having a calm, collected attitude no matter the situation. Her consummate professionalism makes her a favorite among her more refined clients while her ruthlessness makes her many friends in low places. She's relentless in her pursuit of a goal and will not stop until a job or task is complete, even to her own detriment, and never yields to any odds. She's cunning, cold, and calculating but ever polite to everyone she meets, including those she intends to remove from their mortal coil. Her emotions never get in the way of her work and she keeps her personal life entirely separate from her career as a matter of principle and slight paranoia. That being said, she does allow herself to cut loose now and again as a way to blow off steam so her work remains unaffected and returns to her natural poise shortly after.

Bio:

Aniya was not always the stone faced killer she is today. She started as the youngest of three being raised by a widowed mother who struggled to make ends meet and didn't always succeed. This was her and her family's life all the way into her teens and Aniya hated it in a way that ate at her soul. She hated wearing ratty clothes always too big or too small and going to bed hungry. Her anger was always boiling just beneath the surface and she had little patience for the daily grind of dealing with her peers at school. She quickly gained a bad reputation for her willingness to fight at the drop of a hat. Nothing her mother or brothers did could temper the fire in her gut.

It wasn't long before she gained the attention of an upperclassman known for being a delinquent. He told her he understood how she felt and he and some of his friends could help her if she helped them first. Without even thinking, she agreed. The plan they had in mind was armed robbery and Aniya was going to help them. The whole thing went off without a hitch and they grabbed enough loot and cash for every one in the crew to make off with a sizable chunk of money. There was no end to the questions when she brought home enough money to cover rent for the next four months. She dodged or refused to answer most of them and her family eventually gave up trying to learn specifics and just told her to not get involved in whatever she was doing. Of course she didn't listen and became heavily involved with who she came to learn was a group of mobsters' sons who put her in touch with a sponsor... of sorts. It took a lot of work, but eventually she gained the full trust of made man. Her family gave up on asking questions or trying to dissuade her and accepted the money she brought home with quiet resignation.

She became known for her loyalty, diligence, and aptitude for creative violence and soon became a favorite of the lower ring of mobsters. When you needed something done Aniya was someone you could depend on no matter what it was. This reputation earned her respect and many friendships as she rose through the ranks. Her biggest "promotion" came when one of the Don's inner circle took a liking to such a fierce and driven woman. They were married in just over a year and Aniya soon cut ties with her family. She saw them as ungrateful for the things she'd done for them and wanted nothing more to do with them.

Unfortunately, her perfect life was not to last for more than a few years. Her husband and a number of her friends were killed in a shootout with police after a drug deal turned out to be a sting operation. The loss was devastating, but she resolved to not let it drag her down. She still had duties to the family and they, to their credit, were very supportive of her during this time. Another incident a few months later when a member of the family snitched to police which led to several arrests proved to be the final straw for Aniya. She left her entire life behind suddenly and without warning, much to the anger of her former associates. There were numerous attempts on her life and every so often some hired goon takes a swing at her but she doesn't mind too much these days as it keeps her sharp.

In the years after, she leveraged contacts from the network she spent years building and set about building a new network. Gone was the mobster turned mob wife. She rebranded herself as a hired killer, an international assassin and interrogator of the utmost discretion and her reputation brought small-time clients to her like moths to a flame. Her influence grew and soon she found herself with job offers from the rich and powerful of polite society as well.

When the Senior contacted her, she at first believed him to be just another client. Perhaps he was a site manager at an industrial plant and needed a union organizer to have an "accident" or was a rich banker who wanted his cheating wife to disappear before she could try and divorce him and collect alimony. She soon realized he was someone very different than the typical criminal and she wanted in.

Skillset:

• Rifle and Pistol Marksmanship: She much prefers to kill at range to avoid soiling her clothes.
• Hand to Hand Combat: Not an expert by any means, but she's picked up on some tricks and had people show her a few things. She'd probably still lose to anyone with serious martial arts training.
• "Enhanced Interrogation": It may violate a few international laws as well as requiring a rain jacket and medical gloves, but it works.
• Multilingual: Speaks fluent English and Russian and is conversational in Spanish. English is a useful lingua franca most anywhere in the world and Spanish is something she has picked up on due to her frequent exposure.
• Target Location and Tracking: Can't kill what you can't find.
• Escape and Evasion: Sticking around for the after party is never a good idea.
• Evidence Clean-Up: A service Aniya offers free of charge. Better cover your tracks before the law comes sniffing around.

Phenomena:

N/A

Personal Equipment:

• Tailored Suit: Stylish and protective when using the kevlar inserts. You'll still probably have broken ribs and feel like you just got run over by a truck, but you'll live.
• Glock 19: Chambered in 9mm, comes with 2 spare magazines, threaded barrel to attach a silencer, the silencer in question and it all fits in a concealed shoulder holster.
• Derringer: A cute little .38 2 shot pistol strapped to her right ankle as a weapon of last resort. Comes with 6 extra rounds.
• Takedown Rifle: Long range firepower for the hitwoman on the go. A pretty little semiauto marksman rifle chambered in 7.62x51mm. Breaks down into 6 parts including the 5 round box magazine and is easily concealed in a laptop bag. Aniya has been known to employ armor piercing rounds to hit targets where they least expect.
• Stiletto Knife: A beautiful gift from a dear friend. She prefers not to use it for risk of the blood getting on her suit but carries it everywhere.
• Laminated Photo: A picture of herself and her late husband on a beach with the setting sun in the background. Also carries this everywhere.
• "Enhanced Interrogation" Kit: A sleek, black leather briefcase holding all sorts of goodies from pliers and scalpels, to dental picks and a saw blade all lovingingly cleaned and polished. Any tongue loosened, guaranteed or they lose it!
• Lockpick Set: Door kicking is all well and good, but finesse is often better. Also useful for gaining access to vantage points for long range wet work. Includes manual and electronic picks for more modern doors.
• Garrote Wire: A true classic and a relic from her mob days. Ol' Reliable makes for an effective and quiet execution.
• Makeup Kit: A travel size case with the essentials like foundation, eye shadow, eye liner, etc. It even has a mini lipstick. For touch ups on the go.
• Clothing Repair Kit: Small tears and rips are inevitable in her line of work but that's no excuse to look unkempt. Comes with thread and a few sewing needles and an extra button or two.

Winds of Fate - A Thieves' Adventure (Semi-Tabletop)

Maréngo

---

Maréngo woke with a start as the light slapped him across the face and the mercenary's voice filled his head. He sat bolt upright, disturbing the sleep of his bedfellows in the process, and brandished his empty bottle like a club ready to-- oh merciful gods above his head! He groaned from deep in his hair covered chest and dropped the bottle which rolled off the edge of the bed with a solid thunk that only served to hasten the stragglers. The sailor clutched his poor, throbbing skull with both hands and felt something on his head. His fingers brushed against leather and he took off a hat he'd never seen before in his life.
"What in the Nine Hells?" he asked the empty air, his voice hoarse from too much liquor and too little water.
He tossed the ridiculous thing aside where it hit a camelid he hadn't noticed on the rear. It gave an annoyed snort and moved away out of range of any more thrown objects. Maréngo paused and laughed at the absurdity of it all even as he felt invisible hammers use his forehead as an anvil. His companions from the night before rolled off the bed and onto unsteady legs to hunt for their clothes. The two women awkwardly tried to cover themselves and avoid looking at Nora as they collected their garments. By contrast, Maréngo was wholly unconcerned by wearing nothing more than what the gods had graced him with upon his birth as he tossed the sheets aside and clambered off the mattress.
"Where were you, Nora?" he asked flirtatiously, "I don't remember much but I know you'd have had much more fun with-"
His playful antics were cut short as nausea crashed over him like a rogue wave. There was nothing he could do to stop his dinner from make a reappearance on the floor as he stumbled back and sat down heavily at the edge of the bed. He groaned once more and rubbed his temples. Lord Leathe preserve his poor soul his head felt like a splitting log.

The Zherpanian bandit's lips pursed into a thin, unwelcoming line, and her features shifted into a deep scowl as she looked over the drunken sailor with a look that was at best deeply disappointed.
"I find little pleasure in the arms of drunkards, Maréngo," Nora said with a sneer, gracefully stepping around the food the sailor had freshly regurgitated onto the floor.
Listening to the sputtering sounds and cursing coming from Y'Vanna and her nightly companions, Nora felt a small, distinctly unwelcome urge to be kind. With a gentle wave of her hand, Nora signaled once more to the serving boy who brought a bucket of water to Maréngo without emptying it over him, instead holding it out in front of him. "Wash up, sailor, you stink, and we are late, thanks to you and Y'Vanna."

He mumbled something along the lines of a sarcastic "you're welcome" and took the bucket from Thomas. More than a few mouthfuls of water went down his throat before he dunked his entire head in the brisk water and came up for air a moment later with a gasp. He appeared to be at least somewhat more alert (even if he looked like a drowned rat with his dark hair plastering itself to his face) as he rubbed at his bloodshot eyes. The pounding in his head was still as agonizing as ever but he was with it enough to rinse down the essentials. He was nowhere near clean but now his smell was only mildly unpleasant. Just for good measure he dumped the rest of the water over himself and shivered as the water sucked the heat right out of him. He shielded his eyes from the light as he shook his hair out and set about looking for his pants. A snicker escaped him when he looked over and saw the state of Y'vanna. Oh, that was Y'vanna. He wasn't sure why it surprised him at first, they had similar tastes after all. He caught himself staring at her for more than a bit too long and tore himself away with some effort, trying his hardest not to let the image of her naked form brand itself on his mind.

It wasn't much longer before he was somewhat presentable, if disheveled as can be and looking a bit waterlogged. He feared it would be a permanent look as long as he stayed in this city. There was a series of pops along his spine as he stretched to banish the last of the sleep from his limbs. He made sure his sword belt was tight and patted his cutlass and his rigging knife as if to make sure they wouldn't run off on him.
"Let's be off then. Wouldn't want any of you land larkies drowin' when I had me back turned."
His eyes drifted back over to the camelid which had resumed grazing on the scattered vegetables. He chuckled for a moment and turned to Nora.
"Do you think Vargas would mind if he found our friend here after we leave?" His chuckling gave way to laughter. "Don't worry, I'm sure he has some coin left to pay!"
Speaking of coin, he emptied his coin pouch into his hand and counted three gold coins. He stood perplexed for a moment until it dawned on him that he must have done some gambling he didn't quite remember. Back into the pouch they went and he tied it securely around his belt. For better or worse he was ready to go.

Extracriminal: ..something something.. [NOT Searching]

@TGM Lmao I love Leverage

Extracriminal: ..something something.. [NOT Searching]

@Bartimaeus Hell yeah! Glad to be on the team. Can't wait to get started.