Lord Coake

It's A Wonderful Life! - An Imperial Guard (40K) RP [Looking for Guardsmen]

EDIT: Never mind this, move along.

The Fate of the Cursed (WH40K Renegade Space Marine RP)

You've got my interest all the way.

Fallout: Orleans

One Week Prior - Gonzales, Northeast of Orleans

Dr. Franklin Arlington III and his ever-loyal bodyguard Scar had arrived in the rugged town of Gonzales on their way to the trading hub of Orleans. Seeing this as a fine time to set up shop for a day, they assembled their makeshift stand in the town centre. Their quick construction had assembled a crowd of townsfolk, just in time for Franklin to unveil their "product" to the mass of people.

"Ladies and gentleman, children and grandparets, I am Dr. Franklin Arlington III! I come to you from far to the North, where my compatriot and I unearthed a brand new product: Nuka-Cola Lemon!" With these words and a flourish, he revealed to the crowd a selection of sealed Nuka-Cola sodas, each with a bright yellow coloring in the encased liquid. "Found deep in the bowels of a Nuka-Cola factory in the ruins of Nashville, this soda contains the long-lost pre-war fruit flavor of the mysterious Lemon! Tangy and sour at first, but with a quick shot of sweetness, Nuka-Cola Lemon is sure to bring a delightful taste to your next meal, perfect for those of all ages!" The crowd of townspeople absolutely adored Franklin's little speech, and were quick to buy up every single bottle of the new soda. After collecting their decent-sized caps payment from the town, Franklin and Scar were quick to vacate the scene, just in time too, as the first bottle had been opened. With a gulp, a spit take, and a bit of gagging, a single cry of anguish and anger trailed their successful escape.

"It's a fucking bottle of piss!"

---

Present Day - Orleans Proulx District

Arriving in Orleans, Franklin and Scar once again began to set up their ramshackle booth. It didn't gather nearly the same crowd as before, sharing many a trait with the other peasant vendors in the District. Once it was done, Franklin again began to shout out advertisements of his wares to the passers-by. "You there, sir! Yes, you! You look like you could use a new weapon. A fully-functional, fresh-out-the-box Laser Pistol, only 150 Caps!" "Madam, you look like a woman of distinguished taste. This stunning Pre-War Dress would look perfect on you, only 65 Caps!" As the crowd around his stand slowly grew, Scar's intimidating feature was capable of warding off most of those demanding refunds for their broken products.

([Master Trader] for seeing how much money they collect, [Terrifying Presence] to keep all but the most rough-and-tumble hecklers away)

@Ordure

Fallout: Orleans

Dr. Franklin Arlington and 'Scar'

NAME - Dr. Franklin Arlington III

AGE - 35

GENDER - Male

APPEARANCE - A man of average height, standing at about 5 feet 10 inches, and with an average build and weight of about 184 pounds. He has neatly trimmed and groomed black hair, with an equally neat beard. His face is completely free of blemishes, scars, wrinkles, or other marks or imperfections, and he is proud of it. His wardrobe consists solely of various color suits, as clean as humanly possible given global conditions, and a refurbished black bowler hat. He carries a .44 magnum revolver in a shoulder holster under his suit jacket, and has an accompanied pack Brahman laden with various items for sale.

PERSONALITY - A sly, cunning trader, Franklin is always doing his best to con people out of every last cap, usually without them ever realizing it until it is far too late. When speaking to potential customers, he is always polite, charismatic, and quite friendly. However, when threatened, shouted at, or otherwise receiving of hostile actions, he becomes cowardly, ducking behind his larger bodyguard, and only fighting as a last resort.

FACTION - Plans to manipulate both for the gain of himself and his partner.

BIOGRAPHY - Born in a lost-to-the-ages vault, whose experiment was to raise thieves, scum and other lowlifes in a high-class setting, Franklin was sleazy from the start. When he was 10, he managed to con just about every other kid out of their favorite toys, and only gave them back when they banded together to beat him up. By 15 he was constantly "obtaining" malfunctioning vault equipment and attempting to return it in "good-as-new" condition for a reward. By 19 he earned himself a one-way ticket to the wasteland, when his one of his cons cost a security guard his life via a broken 10mm pistol. Once exiled from the vault, he took to wandering the wastes, conning people out of their best equipment, and running for his life when they caught on. After several years alone, he found himself a true friend in his current bodyguard, the man simply known as "Scar". Together they continued their travels, Franklin parting people with their hard-earned goods, and Scar stopping them from killing Franklin with a simple cracking of his knuckles and a glare.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L - [40 points - Maximum of 10]

STRENGTH - 4
PERCEPTION - 4
ENDURANCE - 4
CHARISMA - 10
INTELLIGENCE - 5
AGILITY - 4
LUCK - 9

PERKS - [Up to Three]

- Master Trader
- Speaker
- Scoundrel

OTHER - His pack brahman is laden with various broken, malfunctioning, or otherwise useless products that have been reworked to appear as high-quality goods. From overheating laser rifles, to stimpaks with fake needle tips, he has everything he needs to begin conning the Bayou wasteland out of every last cap it owns.

---

NAME - Known as "Scar", real name unknown.

AGE - 24

GENDER - Male

APPEARANCE - A large, burly man, at an impressive 6 feet 7 inches, and a whopping 245 pounds, Scar is a mass of tough sinew and muscle. His nickname comes from the large scar running down the left side of his face, narrowly missing his eye, and ending at the tip of his chin. He has stubble in place of head hair, and a gold left front tooth. His attire is mainly a rugged leather jacket with the left sleeve missing, a black long-sleeve shirt under that, black denim pants, tan combat boots with an occupied knife sheath, fingerless leather gloves, an ammo bandoleer, and a pouch bandoleer. He carries a light machine gun chambered in 5.56 caliber, with a .45 caliber handgun as a sidearm. He also keeps a pair of brass knuckles handy.

PERSONALITY - Gruff, crude, harsh, just to name a few traits. He's the epiphany of every mercenary, raider, and bounty hunter stereotype rolled into one giant package. He'll sooner punch your lights out for helping him than say thank you, then beat you again for apologizing. The only person he doesn't show any sort of contempt for is Franklin, though nobody BUT Franklin has any clue why.

FACTION - Franklin and his cons

BIOGRAPHY - Born in the raider-infested hellhole that is Detroit, Michigan, Scar grew up with death all around. His father killed his mother when he was 6, taking him to run with a raider gang. By 10, he had killed at least 5 people, and by 15, his father was part of that list. After that, he left, wanting to find a life where he could do things besides killing. Not much is known about his wandering, though there is one tale about him that both him and Franklin love to tell, and that is how he earned the scar that gave him his name. He was in the ruins of Indianapolis, when a deathclaw charged him and his small band of allies. Two of the four were slaughtered in a single swipe of its claw. Even after unloading an entire ammo box from his machine gun into the beast, it still charged on. So Scar did the impossible, he drew his knife, and charged right back at it, screaming at the top of his lungs. According to the other survivor, and a few other scattered witnesses, Scar ended up killing it with just the knife and his hands. The only supporting evidence is the large gash running across his face, and the severed deathclaw hand Scar keeps on his person. Shortly after, Scar would meet up with Franklin, and the two would become inseparable allies from then on.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L - [40 points - Maximum of 10]

STRENGTH - 10
PERCEPTION - 5
ENDURANCE - 8
CHARISMA - 4
INTELLIGENCE - 4
AGILITY - 5
LUCK - 4

PERKS - [Up to Three]

- Terrifying Presence
- Iron Fist
- Ferocious Loyalty

OTHER - N/A

Fallout: Orleans

@OrdureBios are done. Sorry for the delay, had work all day today.

NAME - Dr. Franklin Arlington III

AGE - 35

GENDER - Male

APPEARANCE - A man of average height, standing at about 5 feet 10 inches, and with an average build and weight of about 184 pounds. He has neatly trimmed and groomed black hair, with an equally neat beard. His face is completely free of blemishes, scars, wrinkles, or other marks or imperfections, and he is proud of it. His wardrobe consists solely of various color suits, as clean as humanly possible given global conditions, and a refurbished black bowler hat. He carries a .44 magnum revolver in a shoulder holster under his suit jacket, and has an accompanied pack Brahman laden with various items for sale.

PERSONALITY - A sly, cunning trader, Franklin is always doing his best to con people out of every last cap, usually without them ever realizing it until it is far too late. When speaking to potential customers, he is always polite, charismatic, and quite friendly. However, when threatened, shouted at, or otherwise receiving of hostile actions, he becomes cowardly, ducking behind his larger bodyguard, and only fighting as a last resort.

FACTION - Plans to manipulate both for the gain of himself and his partner.

BIOGRAPHY - Born in a lost-to-the-ages vault, whose experiment was to raise thieves, scum and other lowlifes in a high-class setting, Franklin was sleazy from the start. When he was 10, he managed to con just about every other kid out of their favorite toys, and only gave them back when they banded together to beat him up. By 15 he was constantly "obtaining" malfunctioning vault equipment and attempting to return it in "good-as-new" condition for a reward. By 19 he earned himself a one-way ticket to the wasteland, when his one of his cons cost a security guard his life via a broken 10mm pistol. Once exiled from the vault, he took to wandering the wastes, conning people out of their best equipment, and running for his life when they caught on. After several years alone, he found himself a true friend in his current bodyguard, the man simply known as "Scar". Together they continued their travels, Franklin parting people with their hard-earned goods, and Scar stopping them from killing Franklin with a simple cracking of his knuckles and a glare.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L - [40 points - Maximum of 10]

STRENGTH - 4
PERCEPTION - 4
ENDURANCE - 4
CHARISMA - 10
INTELLIGENCE - 5
AGILITY - 4
LUCK - 9

PERKS - [Up to Three]

- Master Trader
- Speaker
- Scoundrel

OTHER - His pack brahman is laden with various broken, malfunctioning, or otherwise useless products that have been reworked to appear as high-quality goods. From overheating laser rifles, to stimpaks with fake needle tips, he has everything he needs to begin conning the Bayou wasteland out of every last cap it owns.

---

NAME - Known as "Scar", real name unknown.

AGE - 24

GENDER - Male

APPEARANCE - A large, burly man, at an impressive 6 feet 7 inches, and a whopping 245 pounds, Scar is a mass of tough sinew and muscle. His nickname comes from the large scar running down the left side of his face, narrowly missing his eye, and ending at the tip of his chin. He has stubble in place of head hair, and a gold left front tooth. His attire is mainly a rugged leather jacket with the left sleeve missing, a black long-sleeve shirt under that, black denim pants, tan combat boots with an occupied knife sheath, fingerless leather gloves, an ammo bandoleer, and a pouch bandoleer. He carries a light machine gun chambered in 5.56 caliber, with a .45 caliber handgun as a sidearm. He also keeps a pair of brass knuckles handy.

PERSONALITY - Gruff, crude, harsh, just to name a few traits. He's the epiphany of every mercenary, raider, and bounty hunter stereotype rolled into one giant package. He'll sooner punch your lights out for helping him than say thank you, then beat you again for apologizing. The only person he doesn't show any sort of contempt for is Franklin, though nobody BUT Franklin has any clue why.

FACTION - Franklin and his cons

BIOGRAPHY - Born in the raider-infested hellhole that is Detroit, Michigan, Scar grew up with death all around. His father killed his mother when he was 6, taking him to run with a raider gang. By 10, he had killed at least 5 people, and by 15, his father was part of that list. After that, he left, wanting to find a life where he could do things besides killing. Not much is known about his wandering, though there is one tale about him that both him and Franklin love to tell, and that is how he earned the scar that gave him his name. He was in the ruins of Indianapolis, when a deathclaw charged him and his small band of allies. Two of the four were slaughtered in a single swipe of its claw. Even after unloading an entire ammo box from his machine gun into the beast, it still charged on. So Scar did the impossible, he drew his knife, and charged right back at it, screaming at the top of his lungs. According to the other survivor, and a few other scattered witnesses, Scar ended up killing it with just the knife and his hands. The only supporting evidence is the large gash running across his face, and the severed deathclaw hand Scar keeps on his person. Shortly after, Scar would meet up with Franklin, and the two would become inseparable allies from then on.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L - [40 points - Maximum of 10]

STRENGTH - 10
PERCEPTION - 5
ENDURANCE - 8
CHARISMA - 4
INTELLIGENCE - 4
AGILITY - 5
LUCK - 4

PERKS - [Up to Three]

- Terrifying Presence
- Iron Fist
- Ferocious Loyalty

OTHER - N/A

Fallout: Orleans

@OrdureWell, the idea is a posh, upper-class "Salesman"(Read as: Con Artist), and his brutish, down-to-earth bodyguard/manservant. I'll get to work on bios right away.

Fallout: Orleans

@Ordure So I think I want to give this another try, but with a character that has less to do with the overall main plot, to make up for my inability to post as much as the others here. Although I do have one question: Your opinion on me running two characters together, as a set-up of One is heavily combat-oriented, his partner being far weaker, but more adept at talking with people?

It's A Wonderful Life! - An Imperial Guard (40K) RP [Looking for Guardsmen]

The Cadian 88th were glad to finally have found some friendly support, namely that of the 3003rd Raider Regiment. As the two remaining Chimeras and their infantry support reached the friendly soldiers, Lance Corporal Caius Mortem almost found himself letting out a cheer. He knew that the battle was far from over, that it had just barely begun, but to him it felt as though they had just conquered the Eye of Terror itself. Advancing forward with the rest of the two decimated regiments, Caius quickly adapted himself to the now-mixed fighting tactics. Eventually, Caius would find himself hunkered down with others from the force behind a large pile of rubble, the orks still continuing their headlong charge at the ever-dwindling guardsmen. Looking around between shots, He witnessed a nearby plasma gunner cut a fiery hole in the greenskin mob, enough for there to be a brief moment for the two Chimeras to re-align the brunt of their weaponry, cutting down even more of the orks in a hail of autocannon and heavy stubber fire. With this, Caius took the opportunity to shout out a rallying cry of "For the Emperor!", which the remains of the Cadian 88th met with a resounding "For the Imperium!" as they crept forward, slowly advancing. Caius found himself drifting nearer the 3003rd's plasma gunner, knowing that if anything would provide an advantage, it would be that.

@Sarpedon

It's A Wonderful Life! - An Imperial Guard (40K) RP [Looking for Guardsmen]

@SarpedonI'm at the left breach, currently everyone else is at the right breach.

Fallout: Orleans

@OrdureUnfortunately, I think I'm going to have to drop this campaign. It's moving far faster than I'm able to keep up with given my schedule. Again, sorry.