The Whacko

Code Geass - Britannian Civil War - Alternative Universe

Hmmm...might there be a place for a late-blooming Confederate States of America in this scenario?

Black Powder Arcana

Will get on that ex-Confederate when I get back home, I swear.

Black Powder Arcana [Hard West Inspired Western Roleplay]

Loving the sound of this. Might there be room for an Ex-Confederate bandit and this band of....less than merry men?

Sengoku Space Opera

@Hellis Sorry to bother, but is Joe all good?

Sengoku Space Opera

And done. Not my best, but...you get the jist.

Sengoku Space Opera

I know people hate this, but WIP. I swear it will be done soon.

Hakujin Joe

Name: Joseph "Hakujin Joe" Correia

Age: 44

Appearance: If one were to remove the tattoos hidden under his suits and replace the missing half of his right pinkie finger, one would never know Hakujin Joe is a lifetime member of the worst of society. Joe Correia looks to most like a base foreman or office manager, standing tall and being of average build. His balding rust colored hair and glasses only adds to this image, one that he has cultivated over the years to put his opponents at ease before he strikes.

As if to further the image of an unassuming citizen, he moves at only three speeds outside of immediate action; amble, lope and still. The only threatening thing in the man's appearance is in the piercing green eyes behind those thick glasses. They are the eyes of a predator sizing up their prey, scanning for any weakness to exploit at a later date.

Origin: Yakuza

Former Faction: Tokugawa Corporation (Listed under "Security Consultant")

Skills: Pistol Marksmanship, Small Unit Tactics, Underworld Navigation

Fighting Style: ラットの道 Ratto no michi(Way of the Rat), is a style favored among the Yakuza and those who live in the underbelly of society. While most samurai would refuse to acknowledge it as a legitimate style, it none the less makes for a dangerous opponent. A cornered rat fights as savagely as any wolf or tiger, and this mentality is reflected in the style's practitioners; No quarter is shown to the enemy, attacks coming in quick jabs and kicks directed at the softest parts of the body. Gouging of the eyes and biting off chunks of the ear are not only acceptable but encouraged. Pinning is preferable to throwing, as it allows the fighter to fully take advantage of their opponent's weakness. The style lends it self to unarmed combat or with small weapons such as a tanto or ono, though some richer Yakuza also incorporate wakazashis and, in extremely rare occasions, katanas.

Weapons: ラットの牙 Ratto no kiba (Fang of the Rat) is an unusual weapon to must, but similar to many of the weapons the Yakuza implement in their bloody work. Looking to most like the blade of a tanto knife attached to a pistol grip, there is actually a functional barrel on the right side of the blade, letting the weapon function at both ranged and close quarters combat. Further, there is a mechanism that allows the blade to spin, adding a viscous, almost chainsaw like action to the weapon. This does mean however that the pistol half of the weapon cannot function until the blade is back in its original position. (In other words, Russell Crowe's weapon in The Man with the Iron Fists.)

Motivation: Joe is angry to say the least. Spending a lifetime as an enforcer for the Yakuza, working his way up through the ranks and carving out a niche for his own power, only to see it taken away by a jealous rival's words in the wrong ear, leaving him scraping the bottom of the barrel. He wants to see that bitch pay in blood and tears, and to see all that let it happen rue the day they thought they could fuck with Hakujin Joe. He's going to be the Oyabun, and he doesn't care how many will die to make that happen.

Backstory: Joseph Correia does not come from any noble family or line or warriors, and holds no title recognized in any legitimate court. Hakujin Joe came from the lowest of society, born in the slums to petty workers in a subsidiary of the Tokugawa Corporation. With meager prospects and a future that held nothing but toiling away under the corporations, Joe took to the streets early in life in desperation to carve out his own future. Supplementing his family's pathetic income with petty crime, he graduated to extortion and armed robbery as he grew older.

This kind of activity of course caught the attention of the Yakuza clan operating in his district, and he was given a simple choice by the local Oyabun; Put his talents to work for the clan, or he would be executed on the spot. He chose the wiser of the two options. From that day onward he set himself to proving himself to his new masters, seeing at long last a purpose in life, and a way out of the dead end that fate had thrown at him, and it didn't take long until he had proven that they had made the right choice in sparing his life. By age 25 he was leading small gangs of enforcers in their duties, by 30 running his own protection and prostitution rackets, and by 36 being the clan's representative to the Tokugawa Corporation.

It seemed that he had reached the peak of his life here, gone from a punk kid on the street to an Isao (laudable man) with the money and influence to command respect even from the Samurai he cut his backroom deals with. It stayed this way for 8 years until the clan's Wakagashira (second-in-command) grew nervous of Joe's rising power, and saw fit to cut him down to size. Several leaks of classified information spread from Tokugawa Corp's servers, and while there was never proof to definitively tie it to Joe, there as enough circumstance for him to be a prime suspect. The disgrace ended career with the clan and he was forced back to the level of a lowly street enforcer. Humiliated and watching those that had taken what was rightfully his, he's taken to the streets to build a new clan.

Star Wars Jedi/Sith

Might you be up for a Jedi and True Mandalorian during the Clone Wars?

Welcome to Nowhere

@Helo

Terry looked up sharply at the announcement of the deputy, quickly stubbing out his cigarette as he tried to look semi-professional after his little negotiation with Jack. He waved the hunter off briefly before he turned back to the deputy; Tall, thin and Black, and probably a lifer if his last few years on the force were anything to go by.

"Thanks, Reggie. I'll take him from here." Reggie for his part looked glad to be rid of this skinny White boy, and Terry couldn't blame him. He looked like the lovechild of Hannibal Lector and Ted Bundy with a sprinkle of kiddy-diddler to complete the look. The detective was already more than a little wary of this guy. He took a moment to light up his third cigarette in half an hour before he looked back over toward the deputy. "And tell Sheriff Renshaw I think we oughta send Sharpes and Deych down to the Tula Ranch."

"Got it, Chief." Reggie said before he walked off to get as far away from the diddler as he could. Terry sighed then, pinching the bridge of his nose before he looked up to the man.

"As you probably know already I'm Detective Terrence Archeletta. And you probably also know that I got my own methods for...getting unorthodox answers." He took a long drag on his cigarette then. "So why don't you explain to me why I should bring you in on this? I got too many people that already know about this shit as is. This is a police investigation."

It was a moment later that he realized what it was that felt....off about this man. He reeked of undeath, was a little too pale for a normal man, and those eyes, that predatory glint.

"Listen, pal, licks aren't exactly popular around here these days. Jack is one thing, but bringing a vampire in on an investigation like this would put the town into conniption fits." Terry's frown was thin and tight, pressed so closely together that he might have been making diamonds out of his teeth. "I'm gonna need a really good reason to humor you on this."

Welcome to Nowhere

Terrence Archeletta

"Fuckin' bullshit." Terrence Archeletta, Terry to his small circle of friends, groaned as he slumped back in his worn office chair with calloused fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as he pushed the report aside. Victim number nine. Nine. That was on top of the seven missing campers, of which they had found precisely dick aside from one pair of bloody jeans. That was un-fucking-acceptable to a man like Terry, especially with the crowd he was charged with looking over. Which was why the whole situation was driving him up a wall; The murder was out of his jurisdiction, and without anything substantial to go with on the campers he would have to comb the woods for weeks, and even then he would be lucky if anything at all was found.

"So we are at square one on this little shitshow. Any news on where the Red Caps might be hidin'?" The detective asked of the lone officer in the office with him, lighting a Marlboro Black in blatant disregard of the 'No Smoking' sign hanging on the wall across from his office. Willard Douglas was new to the station, and a Mundy at that; Tall, lanky, redheaded and reminding most that saw him of a scarecrow when he stood at a distance, it would have been hard to buy him as a cop when he wasn't in uniform. Despite his mundane heritage, he was fully aware of Erewhon's peculiarities and was always the first to volunteer to help out his fellow man whatever the race. The deputy was scratching at the back of his head right then, looking just a little abashed at the situation himself.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, Mr. Archeletta. They're doing like they were told far as I can tell. They haven't moved from the ranch and there's only been a few missing dogs and cats." Terry frowned hearing that. He never cared much for Fae, especially those Red Cap savages quartered off in their little ranch to the North where they did God knows what, mostly involving whichever of the town's family pets that were left unprotected that they could catch. In the past they hadn't been shy about taking the occasional child too, but ever since the town had rioted and killed nearly three quarters of those little monsters in response to a Witch boy turning up with a Red Cap knife in his belly, they'd been content to keep to less sapient prey. They were of course the first suspects in any new murder in this town, but to the Witch's disappointment he'd yet to have an excuse to arrest the lot of them for those crimes. It looked like this time wouldn't be any different.

"Well, we better get a cruiser down there anyway just in case. Sharpes and Deych only I think. Sheriff should be amenable to that." He said, taking a long, frustrated drag on his smoke, exhaling a pungent cloud as he swung his feet up onto the table. He wasn't sure if the Sheriff was in the know about the supernatural, but the man had always been happy to listen to his chief of detectives, and didn't blanch at the odder doings in town. He didn't expect much from the search at the farm, but best to eliminate all possibilities. He sighed, looking out the window of his office out toward the forest.

This was going to be the start of a long week.

Kingdom Hearts Multiverse

"You still know more'n me." Hank said with a faint smile toward Kairi. "I jus' picked up mine...hell, a day ago? Still ain't sure how any of this works. Hell, I'm...still gettin' used to seein' water that ain't glowin'."

Riku had to wonder just what kind of hellscape that poor lug must have come from if fruit and clean water were as marvelous to him as Keyblades and magic. He chuckled at the taller young man, offering a hand to shake, which Hank quickly accepted with a firm grip.

"Riku. I suppose Sora and I will be helping train you both." He looked over to Kida then, offering her a bow and hanshake as well. "Its good to meet you both. From the way things have been I'll bet we can use all the help we can get."

"Well, my father always said to do my part for my fellow man. Figure this counts about as much as anything can. An' if it gets some help for home..." He shrugged his broad shoulders. He turned to Kairi then. "So..uh..those fruit, they're safe to eat, right?"