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Status

Recent Statuses

3 yrs ago
When Miley Cyrus is naked and licks a hammer it's "art" and "music"... but when I do it, I'm "wasted" and "have to leave Home Depot".
18 likes
4 yrs ago
My grandfather had the heart of a lion and a lifetime ban from the Central Park Zoo. Rest in peace you strange, strange man.
18 likes
5 yrs ago
My girlfriend is always stealing my t-shirts and sweaters... But if I take one of her dresses, suddenly "we need to talk".
31 likes
6 yrs ago
My ex girlfriend had this really weird fetish. She used to like to dress up like herself, and act like a fucking bitch all the time.
11 likes
6 yrs ago
“I have 3 kids and no money, why I can’t I have no kids and 3 money.” -Homer Simpson
11 likes

Bio



I love writing when I have the time and motivation for it. My posting frequency is generally one or two times a week on average. Supernatural, Horror and Fantasy are usually the genres I hang around most, but I'm not afraid to experiment with something new. I've made a lot great friends here, many of whom I met when creating the Red Hood universe, and am always looking forward to making more.

I tend to be a little raunchy and crude at times but if you can handle that, you'll have a heck of an RP buddy in me!

The Red Hoods: Rebirth
The Red Hoods: Initiates
The Red Hoods: Genesis
Red Dead Reckoning
X-Men: Avalon Rising
X-Men: The New Era
Cold Front: Tacitum
Crime & Devilry
Welcome to Ashton
The Fates' School for Gifted Monsters
TWD: Hell On Earth
Rebellion
Haven for the Inhuman
Animalia
For Whom the Bell Tolls
Drake: Inextinguishable
The Energy Storm
Frontier of the Damned
Land of the Giants
The Haunted House
World War M

:+:+:+:

Magnificent Bastards: The Many Faces of RedXIII

Most Recent Posts



Sorry about that! Forgot what tab I was in.

FINLAY DOUGAL :+: RED HOOD :+: INTERACTION: RYDER, @Duoya, @Tenma Tendo


Finlay stood up from the head of the table and moved slowly to the empty spot beside Ryder before plopping down theatrically and looking at the fellow Red with eyes that screamed out curses, but a face that wore a mask of reservation. Ryder sat there with a a leg of meat in his hand, a plate of grease where the meat once soaked set in front of him, and some freshly served ale in a mug just caddy corner to his plate. Ryder could already get a sense for what this was, a size-up, and chose not to make the first move. He simply continued to pull meat off the bone with his teeth and gulp it down as if nothing was the matter.

"So, there, Ryder," Finlay finally chimed in. "I've only got two real rules for our little 'partnership', ya follow?" Ryder dropped the meat, letting it fall to the plate with a loud clank before turning all of his attention to Finlay, wearing his agitation on his sleeve.

"No, Finlay, I don't follow because you haven't actually said anything." The tension was palpable and Ryder's attitude was not helping matters. He looked on at Finlay, his eyes drawn to the massive scar that decorated his face, a parting gift from some monstrosity, no doubt. Ryder found himself wondering what Finlay actually looked like out on the field. He'd never seen him in action but the man was not terribly large or muscular. And yet, there was seldom ever an ill word spoken about Finlay amongst the Hoods. A rarity. In an organization that demands working in close quarters with people whose survival depends on the amount of aggression that you can exert upon beasts of evil, it's not uncommon for toes to get stepped on and grudges to form. Ryder was convinced that Finlay was about ready to take a flying leap onto his toes right now.

"Right. Rule, the first: If any o' my people die on a mission with you, you better fookin have died first, ya hear?" There was no room for interpretation there. Finlay looked at Ryder with pupils that could bore into the latter's soul. The message was clear and understandable. Ryder regretting his sarcasm earlier and gave a solemn nod.

"What's the second?" he finally asked after a beat.

"While we're partners, we operate like partners. Share information. Lead as a unified front. Partner stuff. Y'know, 'what's yours is mine' and all o' that." Finlay then stood up and grabbed Ryder's ale before chugging it empty within seconds. After a lengthy and abhorous belch, he added "but what's mine, don't fook with." He then haphazardly dropped the finished mug back in front of Ryder, the remnants of saliva and foam splashing Ryder's face as the thing fell to its side. "Oy! Fairy lady!" Finlay called out, his once stern tone reverting back to a jovial one as he regarded Loona, his joyousness perhaps enhanced a little by his drink. "I bet you got some fookin' stories! It's Loona, right?" With a laugh, he moved down the table toward the fae, leaving Ryder with his soiled face and bruised ego.

Ryder looked across the table, his eyes landing on the nearest person who happened to be a teenaged guy with an outfit that had a little flair to it, before blurting out, "I swear, that fucking guy. I've done literally nothing to him. I'm following orders. Does he seriously think I want to be here?" He caught his tongue before going further and took a big breath in through his nose before letting it out slowly through his mouth. He looked to the young man once more after regaining his composure. "Sorry," he said a little sheepishly. "Anyway, you look a little young to be in this line of work, kid. What's your name?"

I'm incredibly tempted to try this out, but choosing a character is always the clencher. I've got it narrowed down to 2 so far.
Sorry, gotta pull out for now. Work/Other RPs are demanding too much time. Thanks for the opportunity!


Draven Stagnum

Location: Mountain(???)




"Draven, what are you doing?!" Jennea shouted as she ran into the room, her decorative robes marking her as a trainer of Mages ruffled behind her. A young Draven looked up from his book, his eyes glowing green, with a twisted grin that inspired fear. "Put that book down!" With a quick gesture, Jennea hurled a gust of arcane force, knocking Draven to the back of the room, his body impacting the wall so severely that it left a crater in its wake. Draven slowly fell limp to the ground, losing all consciousness. As Jennea examined him, she shook her head with disappointment before turning around to grab the discarded tomb off the ground.

"How did you even get this?" she whispered to herself as she looked it over. The title read 'Grimoire of Agony'. Her eyes shifted to the unconscious young pupil once more. "You are flirting with evil, young man."


:+:+:+:


Draven's eyes fluttered open, glassy and red as his skull felt like it was containing several small explosions within his cranium. All he could see as he looked up from where he lay was the night sky, littered with stars. Some of the constellations he recognized, but he couldn't quite grasp a sense of direction. With an audible groan, Draven pushed himself up to a sitting position, his body wrenching with pain during the process. He fell, that much was certain, and landed on unforgiving rock. He was amazed his body held up and there wasn't any blood pooled around him.

"Zepar... where are we?" he croaked out as he rubbed his face, trying to coax his senses of perception to return to him. After a moment of silence, he called out again. "Zepar! Where-" He placed his hands back on his knees and looked around, a little heated, but suddenly realized Zepar wasn't here. He was alone. "Huh..."

The warm night air carried no sounds at all, as a matter of fact, and the sheer sense of isolation started to take over. As the warlock briskly surveyed his surroundings, he could only make out the silhouettes that were formed by the moonlight, but there was no mistaking the fact that he was on elevated terrain. Draven growled through an attempt to stand up, still battling his bodily aches as he did, and gave a long drawn out stretch as his joints began to pop and his musculature began to loosen. After a deep breath, he looked around once more, but with a keener eye. He found himself on the cliffs on a mountain that overlooked the surrounding area and the way back down was a long one. He didn't recognize this place at all. It looked and felt different.

As his bodily aches began to decease, he realized underneath it all was a foreign tingling sensation. It felt like the epitome of excitement, a rush of energy that he had not intended to summon, and it was beginning to course through him, slowly at first, but eventually through his entire being. He looked at his own two hands and was amazed to see them shaking, trembling. He felt like he could move this entire mountain with his will, if he were so inclined, the energies within him beginning to blaze like an ever growing bonfire.

"Where... am... I...?" Draven asked himself through a curious smirk. He was tantalized by this new development. The more important question, however, was What do I do now?

Draven pushed off his clothes and picked up his scepter, which had come loose from its holster and landed a few paces away from him. As he stuck it to the ground and leaned upon it, the warlock weighed his options. As he glanced around the deserted mountain top, the warm air caressing his face, he decided that there were no answers to be found up here, which left only one other option; he must descend.

The warlock walked slowly at first, his shoes crunching and cracking the dry vegetation below, as he made his way toward what looked like several jagged rocks formed in such a way that might aid him in his endeavor of climbing down to the mountain's base. Pausing for just a moment to reconsider the idea, Draven eventually shrugged. It's this or nothing. With that, he took the first descending step and, before long, another, venturing deeper and deeper into the night and hopefully toward answers.
I gotta tell ya, homie, I love games like this and I've seen them fare well in forums, but this forum was a miss for me when I tried to do a game of Werewolf. HOWEVER, there are some people that signed up when I tried to host one. Let me hit you back with a link and maybe those people that signed on will be up for this one
I'm in!
Dead Island (March 2019)
roleplayerguild.com/topics/176893-dea…




Reno Valentine




Gender: Male

Race/Ethnicity: Caucasian

Height: 6'1"

Personality Description: Reno is ever the opportunist, trying to find the advantage in any situation. He's a small time crook that finally made enough green to take a vacation, with the intent of selling some of his wares to the party people at the hotel he'd be staying at. Little did he know that vacation was going to turn into a nightmare. Reno is not afraid to defend himself and is no stranger to guns and violence, given his profession. He is, however, one who does not trust easily and always looks out for himself first. Ever the deranged, perverted, drunk and/or high miscreant in any given situation, Reno tends to be socially awkward when around people of class.

Character Profession/Job/Career: Drug Dealer

Character Nationality: American

Skills:
  • Firearm Proficiency
  • Knife Proficiency
  • Primitive Survival Skills


Weaknesses/Detriments:
  • Reactionary
  • Hot Headed


Character Blood Type: AB+

“This hell looks a lot like paradise.”
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