Avatar of MysT3CH
  • Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
  • Old Guild Username: myst3ch
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 503 (0.13 / day)
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    1. MysT3CH 11 yrs ago

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4 yrs ago
Current Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.
8 yrs ago
It always seems impossible, until it's done.
2 likes
9 yrs ago
Beauty is power; a smile is its sword.
1 like
10 yrs ago
Currenlly seeking 1x1s

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Jonathon Reeves

The Silver Strike Saloon






Perched upon a stool before the establishment's wooden bar, Jonathon hung his head over the glass he gently gripped within the palm of his hand. Allowing it to occasionally slip free, he then endlessly twisted it betwixt his fingers, allowing it to rotate with a low and dastardly sequence of scrapes. His eyes all the while fixated upon the honey colored liquid which lurched ever upwards with each spin of the glass. It was only after had eavesdropped on the other patrons that he abruptly halted the movements of the glass with a firm grip. Turning his head ever slightly towards his shoulder as his curiosity peaked. Thus, it was with baited interest that he continued to listen. Determined to ascertain whether what he had heard was more than just a colorful tale. A few choice words later and he confirmed it - or at least, made up his mind to believe it. However, it wasn't the circumstances of the cow's demise which spurred him to action, but instead a name.

"Deputy Carter." He spoke the words with a hushed sneer. Recalling a memory as the man's face flashed into his thoughts, only for his attention to be abruptly snapped away. As a man bearing a black hat suddenly raised from his seat and strolled towards the door. Although his motive for doing so was inexplicable, the young man let his gaze follow him as he made his way out. Having at this point half turned himself from the bar, Reeves then slid himself back around. Shooting a man whom had now taken a interest in him a brief, albeit dismissive glance. When the fellow looked away, Jonathon simply emptied the glass. Tapping the fingers of his false hand upon the counter as he contemplated his next move. For three days he had cased the town, only now resolving to attend to his affairs; and yet more questions seemed all he had found.

"Helluva Town."
@Themerlinhawk Excellent.

Out of curiosity, what style(s) do you teach. I've practiced for almost a decade myself, so it's always exciting to meet others who've trained as well.
Muhaha! Andre's harem grows! Lol xD


@Themerlinhawk Did you get a chance to rre-eview my CS by any chance?
.
Let's see where this goes...




Andre Carter


Sorrow passed, and plucked the golden blossom.





Name:
Dre "The Hurricane" Carter


Age:
21


Gender:
Male


Sexuality:
Straight


Relationship Status:
Single


Piercings, Tattoos, Scars:
N/A





DisciplinedCalculatingAdaptableWillful


Skills:
  • Expert Boxer
    Capable of recognizing, analyzing and combating threats.
  • Highly Perceptive
    Notices details most would miss.
  • Jogger
    Possesses stamina in great abundance. Tires very slowly.
  • Hidden Rage
    In times of great frustration, falls into a trance-like rage. Amplifying physical capabilities at cost of mental function.


Hometown:
Acadia Bay, ME


Cause of Death
He was hailed as the king. Unforgettable. Undeniable. Undefeated. Until that one final hit.

Champion of his College's Light-heavyweight division. Andre was recognized as one of the most promising prospects the sport had seen in years. A feat he had painstakingly earned over the years. Not just as a fighter, but as a student as well. Maintaining a steady 4.5 GPA in spite of his dedication to his training. But alas, it proved to be his own over-confidence that ultimately saw him to the grave. Having been challenged by the champion of a scouting camp, whom sought to humiliate and belittle him before his peers. Andre sought to return the favor by granting him public shame. Thus, requested to fight him in front of the entirety of the school.

A decision which, for most of the match had bore fruit. As he dominated the Olympic fighter ever more with each passing round. In truth, he had only to wait for the bell, and his victory would've been secured. Yet, it was his pride that beckoned him to act. Seeking humiliate his opponent, instead of continuing to press, he stopped as to boast and taunt. Leaving himself exposed as he feigned affection towards an enamored fan. It was then that he was stuck. Brought to his knees with a single and thunderous crack. One blow from his opponent's fist having shattered his skull - pushing several freshly freed shards of bone deep into his brain's meaty shell. Andre was dead before his head even fell.


Years Reborn:
2






Living Biography:
Raised as an orphan, the bastard of some unnamed addict whore, Andre was always looked down upon in his early youth. Bullied and belittled by adult and children alike, it wasn't long before anger found his heart. An anger that he would hold onto until his high-school freshman year. Having taken to training his mind in order to academically prove his worth, he had become a regular target for the violent acts of bullies. Simply allowing them to subject him to a myriad of torturous displays in his self doubt. Enduring everything from muggings to golden showers, much to his shame.

It was only when those same bullies threatened vandalize his orphanage, his only safe haven, that the boy at last snapped. Discovering a strength none knew he had. After hospitalizing his three assailants, he was court ordered to take up a sport. Thus picked one in which he could release his anger without detriment. Boxing. But as the years went on, and he learned to control his strength, he eventually found himself within a world he had never knew. One were people noticed him, where others respected him, and where he at last could feel safe. But in his vanity, comfort became hubris. Thus, the boy who just wanted to belong, became the boy who wanted to be king.


Postmortem Biography:
One could say death changed Andre. Both humbling and awakening him. While he no longer walked the earth with an air of invincibility about him, reverting back to the stoic and anti social nature of his youth. He also came so truly respect the power of companionship. Regretting that he had never truly experienced it. Thus, following his acceptance of the deal, he has come to struggle with defining who he really is. Having come to terms with the realization that he had only ever been what he assumed others had wanted.


I really love when people express interest in a roleplay within which the GM clearly states exceptional commitment is required, and then half of them flat out disappear.

Only for you to see them asking days later how come all their RPs seem to die...

Simply fantastic.

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