Stekkmen

Spray

@SheriffLlama
*mocks*

Spray

Laura Adam

Well, wasn't this just a fun little game?

Laura reached into her back pocket and pulled out another cigarette, lighting it in her mouth and placing the silver lighter back into her pockets.

"Alright, Doughboy,"@Sam12435 She said, referring to his World War One-esque gasmask that seemed to serve no purpose. "I'll bite. Been doin' absolutely nothing fer too long anyway." She hefted her duffel bag and readjusted herself against the wall.

She blew smoke into the air, closing her eyes. She opened them again, and they settled on by far the youngest one in the group, the little girl who called herself Skyscraper. @SheriffLlama

"Isn't it a school night?" Laura said to Skyscraper, before putting the cancer stick back between her lips.

Spray

Laura Adam

Wasn't she forgetting something?

Laura Adam leaned on the metal fence surrounding the small balcony that poke out from her "cozy" apartment on the third floor of her building. There was a burning cigarette in her right hand, and her left hand was nuzzled under her elbow. She breathed a puff of smoke into the air and brushed her hair out of her eyes.

Yeah, she was forgetting something.

She watched the sun slowly set over Confiance. Well, she would have, but the sun quickly vanished behind the large skyscrapers that made up this corrupt fucking city. Every time she thought of those smug pricks sitting in their big houses with their money and their power, and their stupid greed. It was unfair. It was bullshit. She wasn't allowed to go much higher than her second story- off limits due to "construction". Yeah, right. An empty floor, bricked up to keep the "undesirables" from sneaking into the upper section of the city.

Laura glanced behind her, and saw the letter laying on a table.
That was it.

Invited by the Ratpack. She'd forgotten about them. Forgotten about being a tagger; about being a rebel. It wouldn't work, she knew that. Those upper city bastards were dug in, and they couldn't give any less shit about some paint thrown onto a wall down here.

But she was going to go anyway. It's not like she had anywhere else to be. Maybe the Ratpack hadn't gotten the memo that she had given up a little under a decade ago. She wasn't one of those "Veteran" Taggers who still had their spunk, who still had some respect around here. No, that wasn't her.

Nonetheless, she needed to get out of her house. It was getting stuffy in here. She hadn't put on a proper top in a few days, just wandering around her house, doing push ups and hitting her punching bag. She liked being able to see her whole tattoo in the mirror. It reminded her of better times. The tattoo was completely black, contrasting against her white skin. In spirals, it curved down of her arm, all the way down to her wrist. From her right shoulder, it dipped just under her chest and circled down, halting at the center of her torso. It hurt, getting that fucking tattoo.. It took a long time, cost a lot of money; but it was worth it.

Still, she couldn't go out like this. She kept on her beige cargo shorts and put on a black tank top and slipped into some worn flat-bottom shoes.

She grabbed an old duffel bag of hers and put in her old Gears. Jumpstart. There was a friendliness there, between her and Jumpstart. He was a reliable set of Gears. Served her well. She stuffed him in, and for the first time in a long while, put a spray can inside, as well. She hesitated as she held in her hand, considering taking more than one color with her. Maybe do a real Tag.

Nah.

After that, all she needed was her crowbar, and an extra pack of cigs.

You never know when you need to hit or pry something.

Placing the letter in the bag, she zipped up the zipper, leaving her house and flicking off the lights.

It was a long walk, and she took in the sights and sounds of the Slums. In her mind, images flickered of her dashing from rooftop to rooftop, grinning with a mischievous glee. It felt like such a long time ago.

It was a long time ago.

Duffel bag wrapped around her shoulder, she turned an alley way and saw the infamous logo of the Ratpack on a doorway. That must be it. IT was an obscure little place, and she had to check the directions detailed in the letter to be sure of where the right place was.

She tried the door, and it opened. There were some folks in here already, and she didn't say anything as she entered.

She slung her duffel bag off of her shoulder and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and placing her long, ponytail over her shoulder so it wouldn't get in the way as she relaxed her head against the wall of the warehouse.

Spray

I'll have a post up soon, I'm hungry and am gonna make dinner.

When revolvers ruled the West - A casual/low-advanced Western RP based on various Spaghetti Westerns etc.

@bluetommy2
I mean my guy isn't even in the barfight

i was just hoping someone might wanna get tossed out the window to get smart-assed at

When revolvers ruled the West - A casual/low-advanced Western RP based on various Spaghetti Westerns etc.

anyone wanna get tossed out the window?

Spray

@Sam12435
Oh, boy, I can't wait!

Spray

Laura "Smiles" Adam

Name: Laura Adam

Title: Smiles

Age: 31

Appearance:


Personality: Sarcastic, dry, and with a spell of dark humor, Laura isn't exactly someone you might expect to be a Tagger. Older than most of her "profession", Laura doesn't really see graffiti as a way of self expression anymore, more as just a way to piss someone off in the upper city. Her pessimism is learned, as optimism, hopefulness, and youthful rebellion just seemed to get her burned. Now, her tags are lazily done, her spirit is diminished, and she's wondering why she even got this letter in the first place. Rough around the edges might be a phrase that could describe Laura. What with always blowing smoke in your face, being dismissive of other people's concern, and swearing very fucking frequently; her outer layer is sarcastic and apathetic, but underneath is a layer of bitter hatred for the system she lives in and those who created it.

Bio: "Smiles" used to be an appropriate nickname, as there usually was one playing at her lips. Her jests could seem mean, but were usually light-hearted jokes with her friends. She ran with her own miniature group of taggers, doing it more for the exposure of the city than anything. Ratpack was a big influence on her in here late teens and early twenties, and it's who they wanted to be like. Their signature tag were big, round smiley faces that appeared 3D laid atop whatever beautiful background they felt like doing that day. But apparently, they slipped up somewhere, went too far, because one of them were shipped off to the hole. A casualty among them, the group decided to not have their sacrifice be in vain. But that wasn't the end of it. One by one, more of their members vanished off the face of the Earth. As their numbers dwindled, depression and paranoia set in. Everyone in the group stopped tagging, but still, they were found and sent to the Hole. It was just Laura and another woman left at the end, but she overdosed on heroine, and Laura sat in her apartment alone waiting for the police to come and take her away.

But they never did. Somehow, out of all her close friends, Laura was the only surviving member of her group. Her group that formed out of a few close school friends who wanted to strike back against "The Man" gone, and only the one who used to go by "Smiles" was left. They were doing good, too. They had a reputation. The "Faces" as they were called, because of their tags, were one of the more successful smaller Guilds. Some may have even heard of them. Alas, they're all gone, except for Laura.

She became a wanderer, picked up an addiction to nicotine, and lazily spray painted a mockery of her previous Smiley Faces tags, just a pair of black dots with a curve underneath. For a long time, she became a petty thief, donning a mask to hide her identity and contributing to what make the Slums, the Slums.

Apparently, the Ratpack had heard of her exploits as a younger Tagger, and sent her a letter to meet at a warehouse. It's been a while since she really gave a tag all she had, and while she convinced herself she was going just to see where this would all lead, she secretly hoped this could get her out of her slump as an artist, and a rebel.

Art style:
Her and her old guild's style:
Current "Art style"

Extra: Always carrying a pack of cigarettes.

Gear: A Gear that has long since fallen from grace; nicknamed "Jumpstart" by her old crew, her Gear is an older, well-made model in poor shape. Now slower than newer gears, with less jumping and gliding distance, her only real advantage when it comes to her Gear is what got it it's nickname. When she's wearing Jumpstart, she can tap her heel, toes, then heel again on the ground with her right foot, than pushing off, Jumpstart gets a huge boost in speed. While she may not be speedy or maneuverable, her starting acceleration is usually massive. It's useful in things like fist fights, where she can boost forward and sock someone in the mouth.

Her Gear doesn't have a hand based controller, as it's only controllable function is it's boost ability. Everything else she just shifts here weight and balance around to control.

Spray

@Sam12435
Fun?

...

Eh, whatever you say, boss!

Spray

Laura "Smiles" Adam

Name: Laura Adam

Title: Smiles

Age: 31

Appearance:


Personality: Sarcastic, dry, and with a spell of dark humor, Laura isn't exactly someone you might expect to be a Tagger. Older than most of her "profession", Laura doesn't really see graffiti as a way of self expression anymore, more as just a way to piss someone off in the upper city. Her pessimism is learned, as optimism, hopefulness, and youthful rebellion just seemed to get her burned. Now, her tags are lazily done, her spirit is diminished, and she's wondering why she even got this letter in the first place. Rough around the edges might be a phrase that could describe Laura. What with always blowing smoke in your face, being dismissive of other people's concern, and swearing very fucking frequently; her outer layer is sarcastic and apathetic, but underneath is a layer of bitter hatred for the system she lives in and those who created it.

Bio: "Smiles" used to be an appropriate nickname, as there usually was one playing at her lips. Her jests could seem mean, but were usually light-hearted jokes with her friends. She ran with her own miniature group of taggers, doing it more for the exposure of the city than anything. Ratpack was a big influence on her in here late teens and early twenties, and it's who they wanted to be like. Their signature tag were big, round smiley faces that appeared 3D laid atop whatever beautiful background they felt like doing that day. But apparently, they slipped up somewhere, went too far, because one of them were shipped off to the hole. A casualty among them, the group decided to not have their sacrifice be in vain. But that wasn't the end of it. One by one, more of their members vanished off the face of the Earth. As their numbers dwindled, depression and paranoia set in. Everyone in the group stopped tagging, but still, they were found and sent to the Hole. It was just Laura and another woman left at the end, but she overdosed on heroine, and Laura sat in her apartment alone waiting for the police to come and take her away.

But they never did. Somehow, out of all her close friends, Laura was the only surviving member of her group. Her group that formed out of a few close school friends who wanted to strike back against "The Man" gone, and only the one who used to go by "Smiles" was left. They were doing good, too. They had a reputation. The "Faces" as they were called, because of their tags, were one of the more successful smaller Guilds. Some may have even heard of them. Alas, they're all gone, except for Laura.

She became a wanderer, picked up an addiction to nicotine, and lazily spray painted a mockery of her previous Smiley Faces tags, just a pair of black dots with a curve underneath. For a long time, she became a petty thief, donning a mask to hide her identity and contributing to what make the Slums, the Slums.

Apparently, the Ratpack had heard of her exploits as a younger Tagger, and sent her a letter to meet at a warehouse. It's been a while since she really gave a tag all she had, and while she convinced herself she was going just to see where this would all lead, she secretly hoped this could get her out of her slump as an artist, and a rebel.

Art style:
Her and her old guild's style:
Current "Art style"

Extra: Always carrying a pack of cigarettes.

Gear: A Gear that has long since fallen from grace; nicknamed "Jumpstart" by her old crew, her Gear is an older, well-made model in poor shape. Now slower than newer gears, with less jumping and gliding distance, her only real advantage when it comes to her Gear is what got it it's nickname. When she's wearing Jumpstart, she can tap her heel, toes, then heel again on the ground with her right foot, than pushing off, Jumpstart gets a huge boost in speed. While she may not be speedy or maneuverable, her starting acceleration is usually massive. It's useful in things like fist fights, where she can boost forward and sock someone in the mouth.

Her Gear doesn't have a hand based controller, as it's only controllable function is it's boost ability. Everything else she just shifts here weight and balance around to control.