Avatar of SpicyMeatball

Status

Recent Statuses

2 mos ago
Current "I will not die today."
1 like
1 yr ago
It's almost time to play the fun game: Is this Strep throat, covid, a cold, a thyroid disorder or that I'm just dehydrated af.
5 likes
5 yrs ago
Nursing School Rule #5: If you didn't document it, you didn't do it.
2 likes
5 yrs ago
Nursing School Rule #3: What happens at clinical placement, no matter how shitty it may have been (literally or figuratively), stays at clinical placement.
3 likes
5 yrs ago
I guess its been a while since I updated this status thing. I guess we could go with Nursing School Rule #1: The correct answer on a test is either potassium, airway or handwashing.
5 likes

Bio



Resident Photographer, Roleplayer, Nurse


A Bit About Me:
First off, to introduce myself. My name is Chris. Thank you for taking the time to stop by and read a little blurb about my life. I am a 25 year old guy living in the beautiful, arctic tundra known as Canada. My interests touch on too many things to completely list, but predominantly I am an avid photographer, a role-player (duh) and a gamer. While I started life here on the guild back in early 2018, I am no stranger to role-playing. I started out role-playing in various video games before I got serious and jumped head first into both forum role-play and 1x1s in Skype/Google Docs.

My main preferred settings for role-playing are, but not limited to: Slice of Life, Fantasy, Military, Sci-Fi, Dystopian, Apocalypse. I personally don't do fan-fictions, I only write for my OCs. Below, you'll find a link to my character stash for the Guild.

Click Me!


My Current RPs:
  • Stay tuned, 1x1 in the works ;)

Most Recent Posts




Ella groaned in pain as she slumped against the wall. Blood ran from her wound and soaked into her off-white dress, her hand that was covering the wound now also soaked in the crimson liquid. Her body shook as adrenaline coursed through her veins and kept the pain somewhat bearable. Ella was just about to reach for an open bottle of whiskey when the native man that had spoken to her before walked into the saloon. She looked up as he approached, her mind spinning.

Ella nodded to him as he glanced at her, presumably to ask permission before he ripped open her dress to reveal the wound. She clenched her jaw shut as Taheton began his treatment, her entire leg throbbing in pain. Her mind wandered once again to the bottle of whiskey on her left, debating on taking a large gulp of it while the native man patched her up. Inevitably, her responsible side won the debate in her mind and she decided against it just as Taheton tied off her wound.

“I’ll see what I can do to not walk on’t. Thank you kindly, mister.”

The young woman stood with a shaky stance, putting little weight on her injured leg as she stumbled towards the back door. Though it took most of her remaining energy, Ella eventually made it back outside and whistled for her horse.

Nothing.

With a sigh, she looked around and hobbled into the side alley. A large explosion rattled the buildings around her and specs of dirt rained around her. Jesus, were they trying to destroy the entire district or something? She whistled again with little hope, but to her surprise the loyal mare came galloping around the corner to her side. She stepped up into the stirrups with her good leg and swung the injured one over the saddle with a slight grimace before riding off back towards the street. She reloaded her rifle while the pair trotted back towards the action, almost eager to see what she had missed.
@Agent 47 Are we to post them in the Characters Tab?






General Information



Full Name:


Dominique CLASSIFIED LaCroix

Nickname/Alias:


N/A

Age:


15, January 21st

Gender:

Female

Home Country:

France

Appearance:


Dominique stands about 1.55 metres tall and weighs in at around 120 pounds. She has long ginger hair that reaches down to her shoulder blades and pale blue eyes that seem to match the ocean. Her body is toned and lean from many years in competitive swimming and training in mixed martial arts. Visible down most of her right arm is a rather abstract tattoo, obtained in a shady parlour without the permission of her parents.



Personal Information



Personality:


Dominique is a rather rebellious individual. She doesn’t like adhering to rules and regulations, nor does she enjoy being ordered around by others. Almost a nightmare for her parents to deal with. Not overtly mean however, she is a rather kind individual to those close with her. Her heart, while not worn on her sleeve, is large and welcoming. She will warm up to most people rather quickly and is loyal to a fault.

Energetic and forward-thinking, quick-witted and a bit of a smart ass. She’s been known to start fights in her own defense and the defense of others and tries to vouch for the underdogs. Under pressure she can be a bit hot-headed and her temper is legendary, but underneath all of that reveals a level headed spitfire that wants to help her team.

Biography:


Dominique grew up oblivious of her parents true images. For the first ten years of her life she was pushed through so many different extra-curricular activities that she didn’t really have time to do anything besides school and train. At first it was mixed martial arts, which her parents claimed was to improve her self confidence and to defend herself at school. Then, it was swimming lessons, lifeguarding and competitive swimming. By the time she was twelve, she was fed up with the constant lessons and meetings. Through the following years, Dominique started to run off into the city at night, often meeting her friends that she rarely had had time to see apart from at school.

It was only when she was fourteen, a year before her enrollment at S.P.I.G.A, that she learned the true nature of her life. Her parents, both agents for the DGSE (Directorate Générale de la Sécurité Externale), had recommended her for the youth program without her knowledge. When the letter arrived with the S.P.I.G.A branding, she was confused as to why she of all people had received the letter. That’s when it clicked in her mind. The constant lack of at least one of her parents on any given day, the harsh physical training, the numerous languages she’d learned. It all made sense to her now.

Her parents were conveniently both home the day Dominique had received the letter and explained to her the circumstances of the recommendation. Her rebelliousness was to only be expected for her age, but they had also seen her potential.

She was off to the airport in the following months for her flight to the Wardshire Castle, her new home for the years to come.



Spy Information



Talents:
  • Excellent Athlete: With cardio like a horse and the muscle to show, Dominique is in peak physical form for her age thanks to her extensive time training for her competitive swim team and martial arts tournaments. She has great endurance and while her pure strength may fall a bit shorter compared to someone who solely strength trained, she is lean and agile and her strikes hit like missiles.
  • Master of Blades: Alright, she isn’t quite a master, but Dominique knows her way around knives. She’s learned how to both use one in MMA and disarm an opponent with one, and through specialty training on the side, knows how to throw one quite accurately as well.
  • Medical Knowledge: Dominique isn’t a surgeon by any means, but she knows enough to potentially save a life if the situation calls. Through her lifeguard training she was introduced to advanced first aid both in the water and out, and has maintained a higher than average level of first-aid knowledge.
  • Languages: Speaks French natively. Speaks English, German and Spanish semi-fluently.


Gadgetry:
  • Beretta M9A1 Pistol: While not one for firearms, Dominique recognized the need for a sidearm while in the field and has chosen to arm herself with the trusty 9mm and is trained to use it effectively.
  • Modified Arm Bracers: To compliment her skill in hand to hand combat, Dominique designed a system that integrates into a set of archery forearm braces. They are capable of delivering up to 50,000 volts through contacts on the palms and blocking most melee weapons with lightweight titanium plates running along the top. They also integrate two slender blades on the insides of the forearms to be easily accessed in an emergency.
  • Knives, knives and more knives: Some may call it an obsession, but to her its a necessity. Dominique carries anywhere from two to six blades on her person at any given time. Two of them are integrated into the soles of her boots and two mounted to sheaths that attach to her vest just below the ribcage. The remaining two are the aforementioned wrist mounted panic knives. All of her knives are balanced to enable accurate throwing.
  • Contact Lens Camera: Mounted to her dominant eye, the camera is almost invisible at a glance and even upon close inspection, one would be hard pressed to see it. High resolution 24MP photographs sent directly to her phone and laptop in the literal blink of an eye.


Other Items:
  • Laptop, mainly for leisure during off times or taking notes in class.
  • Picture of her mother and father, tucked in her wallet.
  • Wireless headphones, almost invisible when inserted for stealthy music.
@Agent 47 Will work on a CS when I get home.
Interested



The collision sent Ella tumbling to the ground, her dear horse falling with her. She landed on her side in a manner that knocked the wind from her lungs, coughing a few times in response. Her side flared up in pain and she suspected a broken rib, but now was not the time to dwell on simple injuries. She quickly clambered over to the native man that was in close proximity to herself, taking cover behind a knocked over barrel. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d serve for the next few seconds.

"Miss, I would suggest hauling ass out of here on that horse of yours."
Taheton Alosaka

Ella nodded in acknowledgement, but not necessarily in agreement. “Appreciate the suggestion, but I ain’t runnin’ anymore.” She wasn’t gonna run from this fight. Dawson’s gang had fucked with her for the last time. It was time to strike back. As soon as a moment presented itself, she slid over to her horse and ripped out the Model 1876. With a quick crank of the lever-action she quickly took aim down the sights fired a single .45-70 round at one of the cavalry men, sending him falling to the ground. With a practiced hand she re-cocked the gun once again and took another shot at a fleeing goon, striking him right in the leg.

“I hate to be the realist here, but I doubt we can take Dawson’s entire gang righ’ here, righ’ now.” She called out to her new-found allies, hoping that they had some sense to flee while they could.

Ella snatched her fallen hat from underneath her trusty steed and placed it back upon her head before grabbing a pistol from yet another fallen goon. She split the pistol and glanced at the chambers. Four shots. Good enough for her. With a quick moment to take aim Ella let of a barrage of the remaining four rounds, her off hand slamming down on the gun to re-cock it after each shot. After it ran dry, she threw it aside and unslung her rifle from her shoulder, letting off another three shots in rapid succession at the remaining goons, only two of which met their marks. It was almost a perfect fight thus far, they had yet to have a casualty. She was about to duck back into cover when a shot rang out in her direction.

Ella cried out as a round clipped the outside of her thigh, sending her down to the ground. Leaving one hand over the now bleeding wound she used her other to try and drag herself back towards the bar. It was amazing how hard everything became to do after she’d been shot. It took all over her effort just to reach the from porch of the bar before she gave in and leaned back against the wall, gritting her teeth in pain. It was going to be a long day.
Annnnd posted!



The dry desert wind blew across the McCarthy farm, kicking up dust as Ella trodded through the fruitless field. The farm was nothing special. A single barn sat on the edge of the four acre property far from the road, mirrored by the homestead which sat right up against the property line that bordered the dusty trail. Another drought had come across and killed all hope of the farm ever seeing any green. A bead of sweat ran down the farmhand’s face as she pulled a a scarf across her face to keep from inhaling sand. She was about to head back into the barn when a familiar voice rang out, sending chills down her spine.

“Afternoon’ miss Carlisle, still tryin’ to for a miracle on this god forsaken property I see.”

A single man paced up from the gate. Ella gritted her teeth underneath the scarf, her mind spinning. What was he going to do to her this time?

“I’ve gott’n nothing for you, Mista’ Smith.” Her voice quivered. “Why don’t you just run along..?”

A sickening grin spread across the goon’s face at her words. He began to slowly walk towards her, drawing his gun. He held the revolver loosely at his side, continuing to advance on the slender farmhand.

“I don’t wan’ any trouble Miss Carlisle, but we had a deal. If you don’t hold up your end, you’re forcin’ my hand.”

Ella turned an bolted for the barn, knowing full well what he meant. Her boots slammed against the dusty, hard ground but it was hard to run across the uneven terrain. The goon gained on her at every step she took. She looked up across the yard. The barn stood no more than fifty feet in front of her. She was going to make it. Ella’s heart pounded in her chest and her hope was rising, right before she was tackled to the ground. The man held her to the ground with a knee and grabbed her shoulder length, brown hair in his hands. Pulling her up to her feet by her hair, the man shoved her to the wall of the barn and held her there, pinning her wrists above her head. She was all but helpless as he tossed her through the barn doors.

Laying winded on the ground, Ella watched as the goon stepped over her and straddled her waist, ripping at her belt with his hands. She had only moments to spare. A plan spun in her mind and with all of the remaining willpower she had, she executed it. She launched herself upwards and reached for the revolver at the man’s hip, tearing it from its holster and planting it in his gut. Ella braced herself for the noise and squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet speeding from the end of the weapon and into the goon. He recoiled in pain and fell backwards, hitting the ground with a firm thump.

"Fucker!" She screamed.

She wasted no time. One of Dawson’s other goons would have surely heard the shot. Ella re-tightened her belt and stuffed the revolver in between it before grabbing the lever-action Model 1876 that lay propped against the wall. She ran to her horse that was already saddled and clambered on top, sliding the rifle into the holster attached to the saddle. As she rode out of the gate, two horsemen were already riding towards her from down the road. She’d guessed that they’d already know the fate of their buddy and proceeded to speed towards the center of town, unknowing of the situation that she would come across.

Ella yelped as a shot flew over her shoulder, but wasted no time in drawing the stolen revolver and returning fire. The horse and rider flew around the corner as gunshots erupted from behind her, barely keeping traction on the dirt road. People emptied from the streets as Ella tore through the crowd on horseback, emptying the last of the revolver’s ammunition in the direction of her assailants. She was too preoccupied to notice that she was no more than twenty feet from colliding with the men surrounding Leo and his crew. Ella slammed into the first horseman and hooves flew. Both riders crashed to the ground in a rather spectacular manner and all fell quiet, if only for moments.
@Jones Sparrow Oh boy, all aboard the hype train!
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