Megsychan

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist [A Quirky Fighting Game Inspired Roleplay Reboot]

Person from the old thread just stating her interest to play on this again when the new thread starts.

Also, I was the one who made the human character in the demo section. :D

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

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@wxps350

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Lucie continued to stare at the burning wreckage of the stadium, not minding any attention as the other nomads around her slowly started parting ways. She slowly and repetitively pulled the magazine in and out of her rifle, the soft clicking of the gun punctuating the rhythmic motions of the otherwise still woman.

After a few tense seconds, the MAVERICK agent turned on her headset

"AO cleared of all hostiles," Lucie said, her voice devoid of any emotion. "And of all stadiums. And civilians."

"Affirmative," the same voice that responded to Lucie hours ago, to approve of her entering the battle. "Head back to base for debriefing."

"Going to have to take a detour, but roger that. Over and out."

The Frenchwoman flicked her headset off. Turning around, she was suprised to see that the same brown haired kid she rescued from earlier was still there.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"To be honest", Calvin began, "Not really. Most of the other guys here have some sort of goal or vendetta. I don't. I just sort of wander around. But I think we ought to stop whoever launched this attack."

Lucie blinked.

Was this nomad being serious? After almost being killed by a marauding horde of robots, he wanted to investigate and hunt down the people who led the attack? She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Kid," the Frenchwoman said, with perhaps a hint of condensation in her otherwise dreary voice, "You're way over your head if you think you can help."

Calvin shrugged off her attempts at discouragment.

"Well, the reason I could hardly move was that I blew off the giant robot's rear with my own two hands, having spent so much ki. Would that say anything different?" He shrugged.

"This is going to be a war, kid," the MAVERICK agent retorted, "if you're going to collaspe after every fight, there's no garuntee someone is going to be around to pick you up."

Lucie sighed as she started to walk away.

"Leave this to the authorities."

Calvin started after her.

"Well, I definitely won't do something like that again. But still, I can handle myself."

Oh god, now the nomad was following her. So he really doesn't have somewhere better to be

Still, given the condition of the city following the robot attack, it's probably for the best that Lucie let the nomad follow him. It means he'd be getting away from that shitfest at the very least. Plus, all she was doing was finding Asterix; it's not like her drone was some piece of classified black box technology that civilians couldn't see.

"Suit yourself, kid. But I'm not going to be looking after you."

"That's fine. I can keep myself alive. So, where are we heading first?"

"I'm looking for my friend," Lucie responded, "Told him to wait away from the carnage. Once I find him, I have to report back to base. Won't be able to follow me back then."

Calvin shrugged. "I can atleast help you find your friend for now. What's he look like?"

"Small. Grey. On treads," Lucie noted, not phazed at all that what she is describing was clearly not human, "You'll know him when you see him.

Calvin nodded, but then stopped as he tried to imagine what Lucie was describing. "Is... Is he a... uh... Is he some midget alien cyborg?" Calvin knew his question was dumb, but he had no idea what he was supposed to picture.

"Close. He's a drone," the Frenchwoman said with complete sincereity. "He's my closest friend in the whole world. Usually he's armed but I had to remove it because he gets fidgety when there's too many people around him. So I had to tell him to get away"

"Huh. Well if I didn't ask, I wouldn't have known when we see him. You know where he would be, generally?" Calvin asked.

"In our fallback position. A nice abandonded warehouse near the edge of of the industrial zone. Shouldn't take too long to get there."

""Let's get moving, then." Calvin nodded.

"I'm Calvin, by the way." He finally introduced himself.

"My name is Lucie," the Frenchwoman responded back with her name.

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

Since there hasn't been a post in two days in-thread, I thought it would be time for a new character census! :D

census

USA: Jaden, Justin, Brooke, Billy, Jonas, Lucas, Walter, Jill
Netherlands: Sage
Brazil: Brenda
France: Margot, Lucie
Canada: Ostana, Calvin
Costa Rica: Joaoquim
UK: The One
Phillipines: Meo
Australia: Hank
Russia: Veronica, Abel
Switzerland: Gideon
Norway: Klara
India: Vindani
North Korea: Yeong-Suk
Japan: Brown, Yoko
Iran: Inanna
Vietnam: Yen
Spain: Askin
Egypt: Seshat

Other/Unknown (Not pictured): Seven-Seven, Fafnir, SYM 04, Voyt, Aldous, Ivory, Rosie

A lot of new fighters, but most didn't have a nation listed so sadly they're not on the map :(

Also, with Seshat, we officially now have a character for every continent. North America and Europe are definitely still vastly overpresented, but the game is slowly getting more and more global!

Abel is now listed as Russian instead of other because Allen told me to list him as Russian.

Since removing a flag would basically require me to start over from scratch due to the way these are made, I'm not going to be removing inactive or killed off characters. If the map gets too cluttered (I could see this being an issue with North America in particular), I might consider a restart, but that will be because I have to, not just because a character went missing.

Also, fun statistics:

27.6% of all characters with a listed nationality are American. This is by far the most over represented country, since no other country has more than two.

37.9% of all characters with a listed nationality are North American. This also makes North America the most over represented continent.

31% of all characters with a listed nationality are European*. This means Europe is close to being represented as North America is, although the characters are more evenly spread apart

Combined, this means 68.9% of all characters come from either Europe or North America. This is funny because, if Nomadic Fist accurately represented the global population, we'd only expect about 25% combined coming from those two continients

And lastly, 75.9% of all characters with a listed nationally come from the Global North, a socioeconomic term for the nations which have developed economies and (comparatively) high standards of living. If Nomadic Fist accurately represented the global population, the result would be flipped; 75% should come from the Global South.

Also, unrelated, but if you guys were confused last night what I was singing in Italian, this is the song:



*Russia is counted as European for these calculations

Of Crosses and Collapses: A Crossover Adventure of Survival on a Patchwork World.

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El Presidente gleamed with a smile as the entire crowd chanted his name. His entire life, longer than any person's life really should be, he served as these people's leader. They loved him as he build only the cheapest housing, provided only the bare necessity of health care and education, and pocketed the island's wealth for himself. After all, nobody notices that they are being robbed and cheated when you do it so brazenly and with a giant smile.

"My fellow Tropicans," El Presidente bombastically decreed, "we stand today at a crossroad. Not even Doubting Thomas could deny our island has grown so much in the past few years. We have built so much new infrastucture for our growing industry, expanded our schools inland, and not to mention, free housing for the most vulnerable of our population!"

El Presidente waved his hands as the crowd ate his words up. Anything can sound good as long as you say it with conviction, and that's exactly what the Carribean dictator knew what to do. Now, he had to do was make up a threat, and that would all but guarantee his relection.

"Generalissimo Santana, on the other hand, hates the progress Tropico has made. He schemes with the CIA on Puerto Gato, waiting for the perfect opportunity to install his wretched dictatorship on us. We can not let that happen! That is why I accept another term to run for Presidente of Tropico, and that every Tropican MUST vote for me!"

El Presidente couldn't even hear himself over the cheering of his subjects. The people adore him so much, that he might not even have to rig the elections this time! Of course, it's not as fun to have elections that "respect the democratic tradition" and are "fair and free", no matter if the pesky EU seems to prefer it being run with some semblance of decency. He'll still order Penultimo to stuff the ballots, but that can-

"Attention citizens of Pandor-No, shit. Attention citizens of 2Fort!"

The blaring voice on the klaxon woke El Presidente from his day dream. There was no crowd of people below El Presidente; just simply some dirty river that the ex-dictator was giving a highly impassioned speech to. And he was nowhere near the safety of his air conditioned palace, but standing at the edge of the battlements. El Presidente blinked behind his sunglasses as reality reoriented around this new reality, one where he didn' have a nation of brainwashed idiots to lead.

"This is your mayor, Handsome Jack speaking. "

Suddenly El Presidente's smile faded into a scowl. If losing his nation was the worst thing that ever happened to him in his life, which has spanned numerous decades, then having to take orders from this idiot was a close second. What right did that slimey asshole have to rule this glorified settlement over him? El Presidente has been in the buisness of effective leadership for decades, that Jack idiot just was simply the first one to wander into this contrived system of dual forts and claimed he owned it all! A lousy homesteader! Comrade Vasquez and Marco Moreno would have a lot of things to say to Jack's face about his ludicrous claim to power back at Tropico.

As the disgraced Tropican leader listened to the rest of Jack's speech, El Presidente's more jovial demeanor returned to him. It seemed the "mayor" was relying on the works of others in order to prop up his ineffective regime. And as El Presidente knew, relying on more competent people was a surefire way to get your underlings to realize they could simply overthrow you and take your spot. That's why El Presidente stuck with Penultimo all these years; he couldn't see that man leading his grandmother across the street, let alone a coup d'etat.

Thus, the Tropican made his way down to office of Handsome Jack's. While doing his bidding may be far below El Presidente's dignity, he knew all he had to do was be a more effective leader on the field than Handsome Jack was at whatever plans he had for 2fort. Then, seizing power would only require demanding an election.... and maybe some stuffed ballots. Could never go wrong with rigging the election.

On his way to the offices, El Presidente noticed a giant heap of what looked like scalvage and trash. Or, as the desperate ex-dictator knew in times of troubles like these, resources. There was bound to be something good in that pile of crap, and El Presidente wanted to make sure it was his hands, and no other, that got whatever the lion's prize was in that trash. [Roll for Search]

Pocketing whatever he found inside his jacket (can't let others see the "reappropriation" that El Presidente was doing!), El Presidente continued down the steps into Handsome Jack's office.

"¡Hola camaradas!" the bearded man said as he walked into the room. It seemed like any meeting between this rogue gallery of imbeciles has already ended, to El Presidente's dismay, as some cowboy-looking yankee seemed all too desperate to leave Handsome Jack's office as the Tropican leader was strolling in. Tardiness would not look good at all!

"Excuse me," the Tropican leader said, "I had some... buisness to attend to. But I am here now, and I accept whatever mission was being handed out here." Accepting orders without even knowing what they were? Classic move. Makes everyone think you're a hard worker and loyal, when El Presidente planned on being the exact opposite on both! No one would suspect a thing, especially not that smug fake mayor.

Of Crosses and Collapses: A Crossover Adventure of Survival on a Patchwork World.

El Presidente

British Officer: Seriously, you are without a doubt, the worst dictator I have ever heard of.
El Presidente: But you have heard of me!

[300+| Human | Tropico, Republic of Tropico | Male]

APPEARANCE, PERSONALITY, & BACKGROUND

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

El Presidente is the president of the world's smallest nation, but that doesn't stop him from trying to look like he comes from a nation that actually matters. El Presidente stands at an average height for a fully grown man, with a downright fat build (but call him a fatty at your own risk!) His olive skin, often tanned through the heat in his island nation, is complimented by a full black beard and mustache. El Presidente's brown eyes are usually obscured by a pair of sunglasses he never takes off, not even indoors (it's part of his image!)

His outfit screams his old profession. A military dress uniform, complete with a matching cap, shows off his impressive power as the de facto dictator of Tropico. At first he wore green, but El Presidente decided to change to black later on in his presidency. There was a brief stint where he considered switching to white (as the image above depicts) due to being more comfortable in the Tropican climate, but he later changed back to black because black hid his fat better was more imposing. El Presidente also has a pistol, a Tokarev, which he keeps in a holster to once again show off his authority. Finally, El Presidente's brand is completed with a Tropican-made cigar in his mouth, one of his nation's chief exports.

PERSONALITY ASPECTS

* Strangely charismatic
* Slightly eccentric
* Jovial demenour
* Natural-born schemer
* Self-centered morality, doesn't care about things except in relationship to himself and his own interests
* No real sense of right or wrong
* Prideful
* Vengeful
* Bombastic


BACKGROUND INFORMATION

El Presidente is synonymous with the island of Tropico itself, situated in the serene Caribbean ocean. The island, originally settled by pirates as a safe harbor to rest after spending time on the high seas. The man who established Tropico, a Spanish pirate famously tortured by the English, known simply as El Rey Pirata, is rumored to be El Presidente himself (putting his age closer to 500 years old instead of the current 300). At the very least, he is most likely an ancestor for El Presidente, given their strangely similar looks. The Spanish Empire seized the islands sometime in the 1600s, displacing EL Rey Pirata and his pirate and resettling the island with mestizos across the Caribbean. Britain would seize the island only about a hundred years later, incoperating Tropico into their empire. In order to prevent any discontent on the island, they offered the position of Governor-General to the first Tropican to respond to their job offer. An eccentric man only known as "El Presidente" took up their offer.

Of course, El Presidente immediately went to work (re)turning the island into a personal fiefdom for his own enrichment. He continuously embezzled state funding, used technicalities and favors to continuously extend his mandate for as long as possible, and made any British investigator that pried too close to his illegal activities disappear. As the British Empire in the 1800s was looking away from the New World and into Asia and Africa, El Presidente used their waning interest in policing their Carribean territories to declare independence. The British sent a small contingent of Royal Marines in an attempt to arrest El Presidente, but after being defeated on the beaches, Queen Victoria allegedly shrugged and asked instead if they were interested in a trade agreement instead.

With Tropican independence secured, El Presidente's first hundred years of reign went on realtively uneventful, as every world power ignored the tiny island to pursue their empire building. The outbreak of the First World War changed everything. Suddenly, both Britain and Germany were competing with each other to get Tropico to send resources to a particular side. Tropico remained officially neutral, but experts noted that Tropico seemed to have fulfilled more trade requests from Germany rather than Britain. A bit due to already producing what the Germans wanted, a bit simply as one last screw you to the British.

World War II was a different story, however. As the Tropican relationships with Germany grew, and the Nazis facing near total collapse by 1945, Tropico officially declared for the Axis. El Presidente sent his trusted advisor, Penultimo, and a unit of Tropican soldiers, to Germany in order to help crush the encircled airborne units in the Ardennes. After brutal fighting in the snow, the representative of the Allied Powers personally went to El Presidente to thank Tropico for their invaluable help in helping the utter destruction of German troops. The Tropican delegation was so terrible, ill-prepared, and mismanaged, that many historians blame Tropico for single-handingly losing the battle for Germany. Nazi leaders fled to Tropico once it became apparent they lost the war, and an Anglo-American join task force attempted to bring El Presidente to justice. However, they landed at the same beach that the British landed on nearly one hundred-fifty years prior, now built up with lots of fortifications. Tropico celebrated a decisive victory, and Queen Elizabeth simply shrugged her shoulders and once again asked if Tropico were interested in a new trade agreement. America too lost interest, despite Tropico practically being in their backyard.

El Presidente, however, was humbled by the experience. No more would he ever declare for a single "side", as that almost ruined his nice little empire. Instead, as the Cold War kicked in with the 1950s, El Presidente played both the Americans and the Soviets against each other as he continuously grew rich from fulfilling both of their demands. Both superpowers never even realized how deceptive El Presidente was in keeping both powers happy, pretending to be socialist or capitalist wherever it was the most convenient. El Presidente's bank account grew to enormous numbers as he continued to embezzle funds from as many sources he could get his greedy hands on.

Things started to go weird around the 90s. The Soviet Union never fell, and the Cold War continued well into the 2010s. The EU, the Arab Leauge, and the People's Republic of China all became superpowers in their own right, not quite to the tier of the USA or USSR, but strong enough to attempt to exert influence on Tropico. El Presidente included all three into his Great Game, but even as he was smart in keeping all five happy in Tropico, it became clear that geopolitics at large was never meant to accommodate this many superpowers. By the 2010s, El Presidente was greeted with a bright flash and a mushroom cloud: some dispute in Ukraine or whatever simply escalated too far, and someone had beef with El Presidente. Probably those damn British. El Presidente hated the British. Always had.

As El Presidente was consumed by the inferno, he didn't die. No, worse. He found himself in some sort of desert, away from his beautiful palace and tropical paradise. Seperated from his swiss bank account, now El Presidente has to rebuild everything from scratch.

CHARACTER CAPABILITIES

~SKILLS~

Cult of Personality: If there is one thing El Presidente is good at, it's yelling into the microphone and sounding utterly convincing. Tropico has survived two invasions and a Cold War, not to mention various rebel groups, through El Presidente's sheer charisma and demagoguery. El Presidente knows what strings to pull, what sells well to a person or group of people, and can get people to easily do his bidding, while making them seem in control.

Financial Vision: If there is a way for something to make money, especially a personal profit, El Presidente knows how. Particularly if it involves embezzling, his favorite activity.

~SPECIAL ABILITIES~

Besides unexplained biological immortality (effectively ageless), El Presidente is no different from any other regular human being, and thus has no magical ability

~Perks~

Swiss Bank Accounts: El Presidente's slush fund is magical. Anytime the timeline in his own universe was disrupted, the amount of money that was in the overseas banks would stay. Thus, El Presidente was able to amass a personal fortune in various banks all across the tax havens of the world. This remains true even in this universe; those funds still managed to cross over, although none of it is currently in his possession. However, El Presidente is certain that, if he puts the effort to search for it, he could probably find areas where parts of his fortune are stored.

~Faults~

Nicotine Addiction: That American gangster movie that El Presidente liked to watch, Scarface he thinks it was called, said the most important rule to the drug trade was to never get high on your own supply. Much like Tony, El Presidente ignored that warning, chomping on the finest cigars made on this planet Earth: his own country's. While this didn't lead to his death via shootout, he is now addicted to Nicotine, and there is only so-much cigars a person can carry on their own.

~Weaknesses~

El Presidente is a leader, not a fighter. While he can shoot down the average mook with his pistol, he is used to having an army fighting for (and with! El Presidente is certainly no coward, mind you) him. He can get overwhelmed very quickly by numbers, and he doesn't have the personal strength to deal with named characters. El Presidente prefers to fight with words, not bullets.

After a certain time without having nicotine or tobacco of some kind, El Presidente will go into withdraw. When he does, Cross will roll on a special little table and a number of things will happen that he'll have to contend with. They can range from silly, to strange, to worryingly dangerous. It'll be fun!!!

INVENTORY & EQUIPMENT

~STARTING EQUIPMENT~

* Dictator clothes and hat, to make him look imposing and regal
* A Soviet TT-30 pistol with 2 mags of 8 bullets each
* A ten-pack of the finest Tropican cigars (10/10)
* Nuclear detonator (Broken)


~CURRENTLY EQUIPPED GEAR~

* Clothes
* TT-30

~INVENTORY~

See above

MEDALS AND ACCOLADES

EXTRA

VOTE EL PRESIDENTE OR ELSE

Of Crosses and Collapses: A Crossover Adventure of Survival on a Patchwork World.

El Presidente

British Officer: Seriously, you are without a doubt, the worst dictator I have ever heard of.
El Presidente: But you have heard of me!

[300+| Human | Tropico, Republic of Tropico | Male]

APPEARANCE, PERSONALITY, & BACKGROUND

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

El Presidente is the president of the world's smallest nation, but that doesn't stop him from trying to look like he comes from a nation that actually matters. El Presidente stands at an average height for a fully grown man, with a downright fat build (but call him a fatty at your own risk!) His olive skin, often tanned through the heat in his island nation, is complimented by a full black beard and mustache. El Presidente's brown eyes are usually obscured by a pair of sunglasses he never takes off, not even indoors (it's part of his image!)

His outfit screams his old profession. A military dress uniform, complete with a matching cap, shows off his impressive power as the de facto dictator of Tropico. At first he wore green, but El Presidente decided to change to black later on in his presidency. There was a brief stint where he considered switching to white (as the image above depicts) due to being more comfortable in the Tropican climate, but he later changed back to black because black hid his fat better was more imposing. El Presidente also has a pistol, a Tokarev, which he keeps in a holster to once again show off his authority. Finally, El Presidente's brand is completed with a Tropican-made cigar in his mouth, one of his nation's chief exports.

PERSONALITY ASPECTS

* Strangely charismatic
* Slightly eccentric
* Jovial demenour
* Natural-born schemer
* Self-centered morality, doesn't care about things except in relationship to himself and his own interests
* No real sense of right or wrong
* Prideful
* Vengeful
* Bombastic


BACKGROUND INFORMATION

El Presidente is synonymous with the island of Tropico itself, situated in the serene Caribbean ocean. The island, originally settled by pirates as a safe harbor to rest after spending time on the high seas. The man who established Tropico, a Spanish pirate famously tortured by the English, known simply as El Rey Pirata, is rumored to be El Presidente himself (putting his age closer to 500 years old instead of the current 300). At the very least, he is most likely an ancestor for El Presidente, given their strangely similar looks. The Spanish Empire seized the islands sometime in the 1600s, displacing EL Rey Pirata and his pirate and resettling the island with mestizos across the Caribbean. Britain would seize the island only about a hundred years later, incoperating Tropico into their empire. In order to prevent any discontent on the island, they offered the position of Governor-General to the first Tropican to respond to their job offer. An eccentric man only known as "El Presidente" took up their offer.

Of course, El Presidente immediately went to work (re)turning the island into a personal fiefdom for his own enrichment. He continuously embezzled state funding, used technicalities and favors to continuously extend his mandate for as long as possible, and made any British investigator that pried too close to his illegal activities disappear. As the British Empire in the 1800s was looking away from the New World and into Asia and Africa, El Presidente used their waning interest in policing their Carribean territories to declare independence. The British sent a small contingent of Royal Marines in an attempt to arrest El Presidente, but after being defeated on the beaches, Queen Victoria allegedly shrugged and asked instead if they were interested in a trade agreement instead.

With Tropican independence secured, El Presidente's first hundred years of reign went on realtively uneventful, as every world power ignored the tiny island to pursue their empire building. The outbreak of the First World War changed everything. Suddenly, both Britain and Germany were competing with each other to get Tropico to send resources to a particular side. Tropico remained officially neutral, but experts noted that Tropico seemed to have fulfilled more trade requests from Germany rather than Britain. A bit due to already producing what the Germans wanted, a bit simply as one last screw you to the British.

World War II was a different story, however. As the Tropican relationships with Germany grew, and the Nazis facing near total collapse by 1945, Tropico officially declared for the Axis. El Presidente sent his trusted advisor, Penultimo, and a unit of Tropican soldiers, to Germany in order to help crush the encircled airborne units in the Ardennes. After brutal fighting in the snow, the representative of the Allied Powers personally went to El Presidente to thank Tropico for their invaluable help in helping the utter destruction of German troops. The Tropican delegation was so terrible, ill-prepared, and mismanaged, that many historians blame Tropico for single-handingly losing the battle for Germany. Nazi leaders fled to Tropico once it became apparent they lost the war, and an Anglo-American join task force attempted to bring El Presidente to justice. However, they landed at the same beach that the British landed on nearly one hundred-fifty years prior, now built up with lots of fortifications. Tropico celebrated a decisive victory, and Queen Elizabeth simply shrugged her shoulders and once again asked if Tropico were interested in a new trade agreement. America too lost interest, despite Tropico practically being in their backyard.

El Presidente, however, was humbled by the experience. No more would he ever declare for a single "side", as that almost ruined his nice little empire. Instead, as the Cold War kicked in with the 1950s, El Presidente played both the Americans and the Soviets against each other as he continuously grew rich from fulfilling both of their demands. Both superpowers never even realized how deceptive El Presidente was in keeping both powers happy, pretending to be socialist or capitalist wherever it was the most convenient. El Presidente's bank account grew to enormous numbers as he continued to embezzle funds from as many sources he could get his greedy hands on.

Things started to go weird around the 90s. The Soviet Union never fell, and the Cold War continued well into the 2010s. The EU, the Arab Leauge, and the People's Republic of China all became superpowers in their own right, not quite to the tier of the USA or USSR, but strong enough to attempt to exert influence on Tropico. El Presidente included all three into his Great Game, but even as he was smart in keeping all five happy in Tropico, it became clear that geopolitics at large was never meant to accommodate this many superpowers. By the 2010s, El Presidente was greeted with a bright flash and a mushroom cloud: some dispute in Ukraine or whatever simply escalated too far, and someone had beef with El Presidente. Probably those damn British. El Presidente hated the British. Always had.

As El Presidente was consumed by the inferno, he didn't die. No, worse. He found himself in some sort of desert, away from his beautiful palace and tropical paradise. Seperated from his swiss bank account, now El Presidente has to rebuild everything from scratch.

CHARACTER CAPABILITIES

~SKILLS~

Cult of Personality: If there is one thing El Presidente is good at, it's yelling into the microphone and sounding utterly convincing. Tropico has survived two invasions and a Cold War, not to mention various rebel groups, through El Presidente's sheer charisma and demagoguery. El Presidente knows what strings to pull, what sells well to a person or group of people, and can get people to easily do his bidding, while making them seem in control.

Financial Vision: If there is a way for something to make money, especially a personal profit, El Presidente knows how. Particularly if it involves embezzling, his favorite activity.

~SPECIAL ABILITIES~

Besides unexplained immortality, El Presidente is no different from any other regular human being, and thus has no magical ability

~Perks~

Swiss Bank Accounts: El Presidente's slush fund is magical. Anytime the timeline in his own universe was disrupted, the amount of money that was in the overseas banks would stay. Thus, El Presidente was able to amass a personal fortune in various banks all across the tax havens of the world. This remains true even in this universe; those funds still managed to cross over, although none of it is currently in his possession. However, El Presidente is certain that, if he puts the effort to search for it, he could probably find areas where parts of his fortune are stored.

~Faults~

Nicotine Addiction: That American gangster movie that El Presidente liked to watch, Scarface he thinks it was called, said the most important rule to the drug trade was to never get high on your own supply. Much like Tony, El Presidente ignored that warning, chomping on the finest cigars made on this planet Earth: his own country's. While this didn't lead to his death via shootout, he is now addicted to Nicotine, and there is only so-much cigars a person can carry on their own.

~Weaknesses~

El Presidente is a leader, not a fighter. While he can shoot down the average mook with his pistol, he is used to having an army fighting for (and with! El Presidente is certainly no coward, mind you) him. He can get overwhelmed very quickly by numbers, and he doesn't have the personal strength to deal with named characters. El Presidente prefers to fight with words, not bullets.

After a certain time without having nicotine or tobacco of some kind, El Presidente will go into withdraw. When he does, Cross will roll on a special little table and a number of things will happen that he'll have to contend with. They can range from silly, to strange, to worryingly dangerous. It'll be fun!!!

INVENTORY & EQUIPMENT

~STARTING EQUIPMENT~

* Dictator clothes and hat, to make him look imposing and regal
* A Soviet TT-30 pistol, infinite ammo but nothing more than a simple peashooter in strength
* A pack of the finest Tropican cigars
* Nuclear detonator (Broken)


~CURRENTLY EQUIPPED GEAR~

* Clothes
* TT-30

~INVENTORY~

See above

MEDALS AND ACCOLADES

EXTRA

VOTE EL PRESIDENTE OR ELSE

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

My specialty is crushing your hopes and memes.

@Mr Allen J

In that case, Odds just stole your job. ;)

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

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Lucie took a deep breath.

The sign she was hiding behind was surprisingly being more resilient than she would have initially assumed it would be. Either that, or the robots were just terribly bad shots. Either possibility, Lucie is getting hit by stray bullets a lot less than the Frenchwoman honestly should be given her current predicament. That doesn't mean she was in a sustainable position. Far from it, actually.

A ticket booth was slightly up ahead. Much more stable of a piece of cover than the sign. Lucie knew she had to forward to get behind something that can actually stop bullets aimed at her. She hurridly reached for the case of grenades at her hips, and pulled out a smoke grenade. Flashbangs would be less than useful versus mechanical targets, so she needed something that would block their line of sight as she pushed forward.

The MAVERICK agent bit the pin off the smoke grenade, before gently rolling it slightly in front of her planned route. Lucie immediately ducked back into cover, groaning after hearing a bullet whizz just past her ears. In what felt like an enternity, the Frenchwoman waited as smoke bellowed from the container, breaking the robot's line of sight. Now it was her time to make a run for it.

Lucie sprinted as fast as she could forward, taking a few potshots at the last known location of some of the robots before she too lost line of sight due to walking behind the cloud of smoke. She reached for another grenade, this time a fragmentation. Violently pulling the pin, she lobbed it at a location where she guessed there was a bunch of robots. The civilians either were dead or fled, at least as far as Lucie could tell, so... nothing to worry about, right?

The explosion of the grenade should not have been as powerful as it was. Before Lucie realized it, there was dust everywhere, and she was knocked on her back, her gun at her feet. The MAVERICK agent quickly lunged for her rifle, before going to fire bursts at the robots. However, as the dust settled, something far more threatening was in her peripheral vision.

There was a giant pod right in front of her! And not only that, but some metallic insect.... thing... was trying to climb itself out of it! Lucie brought her gun to bear and fired at the robot insect. It didn't seem to react to Lucie, as it just continued to look straight forward as it created a singularity in front of it.

A second later, Lucie yelped as she was lifted off her feet again, straight towards the singularity. She aimed her gun again at the insect's head and tried firing, but all Lucie's effort brought her was the being's glare as she was consumed into the singularity...

---

---

Yeong-Suk was relieved when she saw that her entire crew was in the hotel lobby as she walked in, with all of their equipment intact. While the massacre was a tragedy, the fact that no one she was personally responsible for died in that bloodbath meant there was no way their deaths could be pinned back on her. By tomorrow morning, she'll be on a plane back to Pynongang, and she can forget this mess happened in the first place. Except, of course, when the state turns these events into a propaganda film starring herself, but she can cross that bridge when she gets there. For now, she just wanted to drink soju and finally rest.

A quick wave of Yeong-Suk's hand dismissed the rest of the posse to their own devices, while she decided to board the elevator to go to her room on the 3rd floor. No way in hell she was going to walk the stairs, she did enough walking around today for her tastes. After punching her number, she leaned back on the wall for support as the elevator slowly made its way up. Some tourist family from god knows what country were couped up with the Korean, visibly worried at the sight of a woman in a North Korean uniform in the same vincity as their children. Yeong-Suk could hear them conversing among each other in whispers, but she couldn't care less on what they thought of her at that moment. The fact that she was finally here was all that mattered.

When Yeong-Suk got to her floor, she quickly left the family behind and entered the hotel room. She placed her hat and gloves on the counter as she opened a cabinet for a bottle of soju. Yeong-Suk swore she heard something outside in the distance as she poured her first shot, but there was nothing immediately obvious when her eyes darted to check the window. With a sigh, the ravenette took the shot. It sounded too far away to concern her, whatever it was.

Afterwards, Yeong-Suk took off her jacket and tie as she walked towards the remote for the television in her room. If there was any news about the events in the stadium, she wanted to know as soon as possible. With a click of the button, the Korean was greeted to live footage of the stadium; every major network in the Rio market was likely pulling their scheduled content for a special report on the terrorist attack. However, what was being shown surprised even Yeong-Suk; there was some giant metal behemoth that crashed into the lobby, and was sucking up people. The ravenette glanced at her empty shot glass, before going back to the television.

Yeong-Suk cursed when she realized that this was real, and almost instinctively got up to get another shot after that revelation.

"Not. my. problem."

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

A spectre is haunting Nomadic Fist — the spectre of scrublords. All the mods of the roleplay have entered into a holy alliance to exorcise this spectre: Allen and Savo, Red and Lec, fighting fans and animie fans. Where is the roleplayer in opposition that has not been decried as scrubby by its opponents in power? Where is the opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach of scrubiness, against the more advanced roleplayers, as well as against its mod adversaries? Two things result from this fact:

I. Scrubs are already acknowledged by all Nomadic Fist roleplayers to be itself a power.

II. It is high time that Scrublords should openly, in the face of the whole world, publish their views, their aims, their tendencies, and meet this nursery tale of the Spectre of Scublords with a manifesto of the scrubs themselves.

The history of all hitherto existing roleplays is the history of role struggles.

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

Since I finally did my first post with Lucie, I just wanted to talk about her theme, since it's in French and I myself was curious about it (I could make out enough of it, such as the complete absence of the word black in the entire song, but not enough to fully understand it). Turns out, while it is a French version of Paint it Black, the lyrics have nothing to do with the Rolling Stones version (which, btw, is supposed to be a metaphor for depression). In fact, the cover isn't even called Paint it Black, but "Marie-douceur, Marie-colère", which translates to "Soft Mary, Angry Mary". I'll post the lyrics in a hider:

French

Marie douceur c'est ainsi que tu me surnommes
Tu crois bien sûr me connaître mieux que personne
Marie colère existe aussi fais bien attention
Je te l'ai déjà dit cent mille fois sur tous les tons

Marie douceur a beaucoup beaucoup de patience
Oui mais un jour tu verras entrer dans la danse
Marie colère avec des éclairs dans les yeux
Je sais lequel aura le plus peur de nous deux

Marie douceur est avec toi bien trop gentille
Si tu persistes à regarder les autres filles
Marie colère ne sera plus du tout d'accord
Et sautera sur toi toutes griffes dehors

Marie douceur aime bien chanter des ballades
Mais ne t'y fies pas trop un bon conseil prends garde
Marie colère adore les éclats de voix
Alors choisis entre les autres filles et moi

Marie douceur c'est ainsi que tu me surnommes
Tu crois bien sûr me connaître mieux que personne
Marie colère est maintenant là devant toi
Marie douceur n'est plus qu'un souvenir déjà

English

Soft Mary that is how you nicknamed me
Of course, you think to know me better than anyone else
Angry Mary also exists, so pay good attention
I've already said it to you a hundred thousand times in every key

Soft Mary has a lot, a lot of patience
Yes but one day you will see joining the dance
Angry Mary with lightning in the eyes
I know which one will be more afraid of the two us

Soft Mary is much too gentle with you
If you insist on looking at the other girls
Anger Mary will no longer accept it
And she will jump on you with all claws unsheathed

Soft Mary loves to sing ballads
But do not rely on it too much, a good advice, take care
Anger Mary adores loud voices
Now, choose between me and the other girls

Soft Mary that is how you nicknamed me
Of course, you think to know me better than anyone else
Angry Mary is now there, right in front of you
Soft Mary is already nothing more than a memory

This actually fit Lucie a lot better than I thought it would. Glad I picked it. c:

BTW, I have no plans to edit my moves at this time.