Yeahhh, noticed that like two seconds after I posed. >.<
Vilhelm Member
Batshit Insane
STATUS: Sorry for the sudden absence, all! My power went out for a couple days (Along with 90 percent of southeast Michigan) and it only -just- came back. 8 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 395 (0.11 / day)
- VMs: 2
-
Username history
- Vilhelm 10 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
8 yrs ago
Current
Sorry for the sudden absence, all! My power went out for a couple days (Along with 90 percent of southeast Michigan) and it only -just- came back.
8 yrs ago
I. AM. BACK. Sort of. Mostly. New job actually lets me check the guild from work sometimes, and I just have -NOTHING TO DO WITH MY LIFE ANYMORE-. So yeah. I'm around.
1
like
8 yrs ago
Hey! To those people I was trying to RP with, I apologize for my sudden disappearance. This is literally the first chance I've had to hop on again- And I've already gotta go. I WILL RETURN, ONE DAY!
Bio
The above hider is just for people who want to know why I'm a little bit crazy. For all others, I'm a pretty simple guy: Writing is my life. I have a job, and a social life to take care of- But writing is the most personal, the most intimate, and the most important thing I do with my time. Novels, roleplays, stories written for friends, a simple letter- It's something I just enjoy doing. It doesn't have to be long, or incredibly descriptive- Though sometimes it just might be. The placing of words into something permanent, something to be remembered- SOmething that people can read that will bring them to laugh and cry and feel, that will make them think and dream and draw them into a world other than our own: That is my goal in life.
So yeah let's RP bro. Or ma'am. Or friendo. Buddy pal kid mate love dude.
Let's write some shit.
Most Recent Posts
^ As he asked, might this still be open to new players? I haven't yet seen the movie, but I'm looking for it as I type. XD This seems highly interesting. And I do love me some assassins in any universe.
*Airdrops in*
CHIEF PUPPY IS ALIVE. I kind of got involved in a lot of RL stuff that exploded everywhere like a gods damned di- Er, bomb. Yeah.
Anyhow, I'm here. Ish. I think this died. Did it die?
Pity. I look forward to whenever you start it up again. And good luck in life, man!
Name:
Jason, "Edge"
Appearance:
Standing at 6'2", Jason looks pretty normal for a late-middle aged man. Graying hair, wears a lot of nice looking suits, smart shoes, well groomed, and looks generally pleasant enough for a guy who seems to be in his late forties or mid fifties. But, there are certain... Abnormalities. For one, despite his age, he's built like a brick shit house, all dense muscle all over, like he's spent his entire life fighting- Mostly because he has. He's absolutely riddled with scars from various things, though not so many as to suggest he doesn't know how to duck, and he has his share of tattoos- Most for decoration, but he does have an anti-possession symbol tattooed on his left shoulder, and a demon trap on his left palm. Silver-grey eyes bore into what ever he might be looking at at any given moment, shooting off an air of experience, often described as if he's looking through people, rather than at them.
Skills:
Jason has been at the game for a very long time- And as such, he's picked up the skills that work best for him in his hunting. He's never been one for the new-age things, possessing only a basic knowledge of computers and phones- Enough to know how to research something online and check his voicemail, essentially. However, the more classic skills are abundant with him- Up close and personal combat, tracking, staying inconspicuous in a town or city- And, a massive knowledge of lore on all things supernatural, gained from long years of hunting and killing pretty much everything commonly seen. He's a good shot with rifles and handguns, though certainly not the best. And of course, there's the skill that got him his nickname of "Edge". It's near impossible to find him without a trio of knives on his person, and if he goes somewhere -knowing- what he'll be facing, one is almost certain to find him carrying a sword of the appropriate type- Iron for ghosts, silver for the plethora of things silver is useful on, and good old steel against men- Also the three kinds of knife he'll always carry.
Equipment:
As stated, he practically always has three knives on his person- Iron, steel, and silver. He drives a fairly recent model pickup with a covered bed- In which he stores all of his -other- tools. Swords, rifles, pistols, holy water, a few bags of various commonly-used spell and alchemy ingredients. A devils trap is etched into the bed, as well as the roof of the cabin, just in cast he ever gets stuck dealing with demons. His blades, of course, are his favorite weapons- Each blessed in half a dozen different ways, regularly treated in holy oil, and covered in all kinds of runes made for all kinds of beasties. And of course, bullets of iron and silver for every make and model of gun in the truckbed as well.
Reason for Hunting:
Jason started hunting young- Very young. Unlike some, he didn't get thrown into the world through some grand tragedy. No, he was raised into the trade, one of those unfortunate youth who never had a chance of a normal life. Through the constant travel and practice helping his father, he picked up the skills and knowledge necessary to start- And grabbed the rest as he went. So far, he's considered himself lucky... After all, not many hunters grow old. His father and uncle certainly didn't.
Age:
52
Personality:
Jason is, generally, a decent man. He likes to help people, and when in the company of 'normals', as he calls them around other hunters, he takes on the persona of your average cheery grandfather. But, around hunters, he doesn't bother with charades. While he still remains well mannered and generally friendly, he maintains the healthy levels of suspicion and bluntness required to survive the job, never beating around the bush, and making absolutely certain people know where they stand with him at all times.
Bio:
As said, Jason was born and raised into the Hunter life. He is, by definition, a bastard- Never knowing his mother, and never bothering to ask about her, either. He was an only child, and where his father went, he went. Most of his first seven years were spent in daycares, or spending most of his time with his uncle- A 'retired' hunter, or at least as retired as a hunter could be. He helped with monster research, looked up old lore, spent a lot of time in libraries, practiced the skills he would need once he was old enough to get in on the hunting.
Once he did reach the age where his father felt he was able to handle himself in the field work, he spent all of his time on the road, handling job after job with his father, from ghosts to witches to wendigos and werewolves, and everything in between. Of course, inevitably, he eventually wound up on his own- A story he's not overly fond of talking about. His father pissed off the wrong vampire nest, and wound up torn limb from limb and buried under concrete, never afforded a proper hunter's funeral. His uncle went soon after- Though his death was mundane and civilian... Death by drunk driver, hitting him as he rolled his wheelchair across the street to buy himself some coffee. He, at least, was given a proper funeral.
Ever since, Jason has worked mainly on his own, taking help where it was needed and offered from time to time, staying in contact with the hunter community, but generally keeping to himself.
Other Info:
The color blue gives him a headache, and he carries a seemingly endless supply of those funny little strawberry candies that seem to only be available to old people, as if they can only be bought in some secret old people club. You know. The ones you get at great grandmas house. Wrapped in strawberry patterned foil.
Standing at 6'2", Jason looks pretty normal for a late-middle aged man. Graying hair, wears a lot of nice looking suits, smart shoes, well groomed, and looks generally pleasant enough for a guy who seems to be in his late forties or mid fifties. But, there are certain... Abnormalities. For one, despite his age, he's built like a brick shit house, all dense muscle all over, like he's spent his entire life fighting- Mostly because he has. He's absolutely riddled with scars from various things, though not so many as to suggest he doesn't know how to duck, and he has his share of tattoos- Most for decoration, but he does have an anti-possession symbol tattooed on his left shoulder, and a demon trap on his left palm. Silver-grey eyes bore into what ever he might be looking at at any given moment, shooting off an air of experience, often described as if he's looking through people, rather than at them.
Skills:
Jason has been at the game for a very long time- And as such, he's picked up the skills that work best for him in his hunting. He's never been one for the new-age things, possessing only a basic knowledge of computers and phones- Enough to know how to research something online and check his voicemail, essentially. However, the more classic skills are abundant with him- Up close and personal combat, tracking, staying inconspicuous in a town or city- And, a massive knowledge of lore on all things supernatural, gained from long years of hunting and killing pretty much everything commonly seen. He's a good shot with rifles and handguns, though certainly not the best. And of course, there's the skill that got him his nickname of "Edge". It's near impossible to find him without a trio of knives on his person, and if he goes somewhere -knowing- what he'll be facing, one is almost certain to find him carrying a sword of the appropriate type- Iron for ghosts, silver for the plethora of things silver is useful on, and good old steel against men- Also the three kinds of knife he'll always carry.
Equipment:
As stated, he practically always has three knives on his person- Iron, steel, and silver. He drives a fairly recent model pickup with a covered bed- In which he stores all of his -other- tools. Swords, rifles, pistols, holy water, a few bags of various commonly-used spell and alchemy ingredients. A devils trap is etched into the bed, as well as the roof of the cabin, just in cast he ever gets stuck dealing with demons. His blades, of course, are his favorite weapons- Each blessed in half a dozen different ways, regularly treated in holy oil, and covered in all kinds of runes made for all kinds of beasties. And of course, bullets of iron and silver for every make and model of gun in the truckbed as well.
Reason for Hunting:
Jason started hunting young- Very young. Unlike some, he didn't get thrown into the world through some grand tragedy. No, he was raised into the trade, one of those unfortunate youth who never had a chance of a normal life. Through the constant travel and practice helping his father, he picked up the skills and knowledge necessary to start- And grabbed the rest as he went. So far, he's considered himself lucky... After all, not many hunters grow old. His father and uncle certainly didn't.
Age:
52
Personality:
Jason is, generally, a decent man. He likes to help people, and when in the company of 'normals', as he calls them around other hunters, he takes on the persona of your average cheery grandfather. But, around hunters, he doesn't bother with charades. While he still remains well mannered and generally friendly, he maintains the healthy levels of suspicion and bluntness required to survive the job, never beating around the bush, and making absolutely certain people know where they stand with him at all times.
Bio:
As said, Jason was born and raised into the Hunter life. He is, by definition, a bastard- Never knowing his mother, and never bothering to ask about her, either. He was an only child, and where his father went, he went. Most of his first seven years were spent in daycares, or spending most of his time with his uncle- A 'retired' hunter, or at least as retired as a hunter could be. He helped with monster research, looked up old lore, spent a lot of time in libraries, practiced the skills he would need once he was old enough to get in on the hunting.
Once he did reach the age where his father felt he was able to handle himself in the field work, he spent all of his time on the road, handling job after job with his father, from ghosts to witches to wendigos and werewolves, and everything in between. Of course, inevitably, he eventually wound up on his own- A story he's not overly fond of talking about. His father pissed off the wrong vampire nest, and wound up torn limb from limb and buried under concrete, never afforded a proper hunter's funeral. His uncle went soon after- Though his death was mundane and civilian... Death by drunk driver, hitting him as he rolled his wheelchair across the street to buy himself some coffee. He, at least, was given a proper funeral.
Ever since, Jason has worked mainly on his own, taking help where it was needed and offered from time to time, staying in contact with the hunter community, but generally keeping to himself.
Other Info:
The color blue gives him a headache, and he carries a seemingly endless supply of those funny little strawberry candies that seem to only be available to old people, as if they can only be bought in some secret old people club. You know. The ones you get at great grandmas house. Wrapped in strawberry patterned foil.Name:
Jason, "Edge"
Appearance:
Standing at 6'2", Jason looks pretty normal for a late-middle aged man. Graying hair, wears a lot of nice looking suits, smart shoes, well groomed, and looks generally pleasant enough for a guy who seems to be in his late forties or mid fifties. But, there are certain... Abnormalities. For one, despite his age, he's built like a brick shit house, all dense muscle all over, like he's spent his entire life fighting- Mostly because he has. He's absolutely riddled with scars from various things, though not so many as to suggest he doesn't know how to duck, and he has his share of tattoos- Most for decoration, but he does have an anti-possession symbol tattooed on his left shoulder, and a demon trap on his left palm. Silver-grey eyes bore into what ever he might be looking at at any given moment, shooting off an air of experience, often described as if he's looking through people, rather than at them.
Skills:
Jason has been at the game for a very long time- And as such, he's picked up the skills that work best for him in his hunting. He's never been one for the new-age things, possessing only a basic knowledge of computers and phones- Enough to know how to research something online and check his voicemail, essentially. However, the more classic skills are abundant with him- Up close and personal combat, tracking, staying inconspicuous in a town or city- And, a massive knowledge of lore on all things supernatural, gained from long years of hunting and killing pretty much everything commonly seen. He's a good shot with rifles and handguns, though certainly not the best. And of course, there's the skill that got him his nickname of "Edge". It's near impossible to find him without a trio of knives on his person, and if he goes somewhere -knowing- what he'll be facing, one is almost certain to find him carrying a sword of the appropriate type- Iron for ghosts, silver for the plethora of things silver is useful on, and good old steel against men- Also the three kinds of knife he'll always carry.
Equipment:
As stated, he practically always has three knives on his person- Iron, steel, and silver. He drives a fairly recent model pickup with a covered bed- In which he stores all of his -other- tools. Swords, rifles, pistols, holy water, a few bags of various commonly-used spell and alchemy ingredients. A devils trap is etched into the bed, as well as the roof of the cabin, just in cast he ever gets stuck dealing with demons. His blades, of course, are his favorite weapons- Each blessed in half a dozen different ways, regularly treated in holy oil, and covered in all kinds of runes made for all kinds of beasties. And of course, bullets of iron and silver for every make and model of gun in the truckbed as well.
Reason for Hunting:
Jason started hunting young- Very young. Unlike some, he didn't get thrown into the world through some grand tragedy. No, he was raised into the trade, one of those unfortunate youth who never had a chance of a normal life. Through the constant travel and practice helping his father, he picked up the skills and knowledge necessary to start- And grabbed the rest as he went. So far, he's considered himself lucky... After all, not many hunters grow old. His father and uncle certainly didn't.
Age:
52
Personality:
Jason is, generally, a decent man. He likes to help people, and when in the company of 'normals', as he calls them around other hunters, he takes on the persona of your average cheery grandfather. But, around hunters, he doesn't bother with charades. While he still remains well mannered and generally friendly, he maintains the healthy levels of suspicion and bluntness required to survive the job, never beating around the bush, and making absolutely certain people know where they stand with him at all times.
Bio:
As said, Jason was born and raised into the Hunter life. He is, by definition, a bastard- Never knowing his mother, and never bothering to ask about her, either. He was an only child, and where his father went, he went. Most of his first seven years were spent in daycares, or spending most of his time with his uncle- A 'retired' hunter, or at least as retired as a hunter could be. He helped with monster research, looked up old lore, spent a lot of time in libraries, practiced the skills he would need once he was old enough to get in on the hunting.
Once he did reach the age where his father felt he was able to handle himself in the field work, he spent all of his time on the road, handling job after job with his father, from ghosts to witches to wendigos and werewolves, and everything in between. Of course, inevitably, he eventually wound up on his own- A story he's not overly fond of talking about. His father pissed off the wrong vampire nest, and wound up torn limb from limb and buried under concrete, never afforded a proper hunter's funeral. His uncle went soon after- Though his death was mundane and civilian... Death by drunk driver, hitting him as he rolled his wheelchair across the street to buy himself some coffee. He, at least, was given a proper funeral.
Ever since, Jason has worked mainly on his own, taking help where it was needed and offered from time to time, staying in contact with the hunter community, but generally keeping to himself.
Other Info:
The color blue gives him a headache, and he carries a seemingly endless supply of those funny little strawberry candies that seem to only be available to old people, as if they can only be bought in some secret old people club. You know. The ones you get at great grandmas house. Wrapped in strawberry patterned foil.
Standing at 6'2", Jason looks pretty normal for a late-middle aged man. Graying hair, wears a lot of nice looking suits, smart shoes, well groomed, and looks generally pleasant enough for a guy who seems to be in his late forties or mid fifties. But, there are certain... Abnormalities. For one, despite his age, he's built like a brick shit house, all dense muscle all over, like he's spent his entire life fighting- Mostly because he has. He's absolutely riddled with scars from various things, though not so many as to suggest he doesn't know how to duck, and he has his share of tattoos- Most for decoration, but he does have an anti-possession symbol tattooed on his left shoulder, and a demon trap on his left palm. Silver-grey eyes bore into what ever he might be looking at at any given moment, shooting off an air of experience, often described as if he's looking through people, rather than at them.
Skills:
Jason has been at the game for a very long time- And as such, he's picked up the skills that work best for him in his hunting. He's never been one for the new-age things, possessing only a basic knowledge of computers and phones- Enough to know how to research something online and check his voicemail, essentially. However, the more classic skills are abundant with him- Up close and personal combat, tracking, staying inconspicuous in a town or city- And, a massive knowledge of lore on all things supernatural, gained from long years of hunting and killing pretty much everything commonly seen. He's a good shot with rifles and handguns, though certainly not the best. And of course, there's the skill that got him his nickname of "Edge". It's near impossible to find him without a trio of knives on his person, and if he goes somewhere -knowing- what he'll be facing, one is almost certain to find him carrying a sword of the appropriate type- Iron for ghosts, silver for the plethora of things silver is useful on, and good old steel against men- Also the three kinds of knife he'll always carry.
Equipment:
As stated, he practically always has three knives on his person- Iron, steel, and silver. He drives a fairly recent model pickup with a covered bed- In which he stores all of his -other- tools. Swords, rifles, pistols, holy water, a few bags of various commonly-used spell and alchemy ingredients. A devils trap is etched into the bed, as well as the roof of the cabin, just in cast he ever gets stuck dealing with demons. His blades, of course, are his favorite weapons- Each blessed in half a dozen different ways, regularly treated in holy oil, and covered in all kinds of runes made for all kinds of beasties. And of course, bullets of iron and silver for every make and model of gun in the truckbed as well.
Reason for Hunting:
Jason started hunting young- Very young. Unlike some, he didn't get thrown into the world through some grand tragedy. No, he was raised into the trade, one of those unfortunate youth who never had a chance of a normal life. Through the constant travel and practice helping his father, he picked up the skills and knowledge necessary to start- And grabbed the rest as he went. So far, he's considered himself lucky... After all, not many hunters grow old. His father and uncle certainly didn't.
Age:
52
Personality:
Jason is, generally, a decent man. He likes to help people, and when in the company of 'normals', as he calls them around other hunters, he takes on the persona of your average cheery grandfather. But, around hunters, he doesn't bother with charades. While he still remains well mannered and generally friendly, he maintains the healthy levels of suspicion and bluntness required to survive the job, never beating around the bush, and making absolutely certain people know where they stand with him at all times.
Bio:
As said, Jason was born and raised into the Hunter life. He is, by definition, a bastard- Never knowing his mother, and never bothering to ask about her, either. He was an only child, and where his father went, he went. Most of his first seven years were spent in daycares, or spending most of his time with his uncle- A 'retired' hunter, or at least as retired as a hunter could be. He helped with monster research, looked up old lore, spent a lot of time in libraries, practiced the skills he would need once he was old enough to get in on the hunting.
Once he did reach the age where his father felt he was able to handle himself in the field work, he spent all of his time on the road, handling job after job with his father, from ghosts to witches to wendigos and werewolves, and everything in between. Of course, inevitably, he eventually wound up on his own- A story he's not overly fond of talking about. His father pissed off the wrong vampire nest, and wound up torn limb from limb and buried under concrete, never afforded a proper hunter's funeral. His uncle went soon after- Though his death was mundane and civilian... Death by drunk driver, hitting him as he rolled his wheelchair across the street to buy himself some coffee. He, at least, was given a proper funeral.
Ever since, Jason has worked mainly on his own, taking help where it was needed and offered from time to time, staying in contact with the hunter community, but generally keeping to himself.
Other Info:
The color blue gives him a headache, and he carries a seemingly endless supply of those funny little strawberry candies that seem to only be available to old people, as if they can only be bought in some secret old people club. You know. The ones you get at great grandmas house. Wrapped in strawberry patterned foil.... Did everybody die?
*Pokes head in* Am still here.
Definitely interested!
Jason
Jason pulled the chip that contained Adam out of the Holo-table and slid it into its proper place in his helmet with a sigh, before tucking said helmet under his arm and gesturing towards the door.
"Thank you for the update, Ronmel and Klaus. We've dealt with worse chances. Now you're both dismissed. Check your gear, and meet me in the courtyard in twenty minutes. The craft should have arrived by then. Make sure to take a piss before we go."
And with that, he strolled out of the hall, heading off to follow his own orders and check his gear.
Isaac
Isaac -was- about to answer Eirwen's question as to why. Then Julis did his... Number thing. Whenever he saw the little man at it, he was invariably reminded of a movie back from the twentieth century that he was fond of- The Matrix, he remembered.
".... What Julis said. But, in my own words, I want them at the bottom because the bottom is smaller. There's only one big room at the bottom tip of this station, and it's the mess hall. Plenty of tables and counters for cover, lots of open space. If -anybody- is sent our way, it won't be run of the mill soldiers. Or at least, not -just- run of the mill soldiers. Anybody that survives a trip onto this station will probably need to be dealt with directly by us. And I like to choose my own battlegrounds. Somewhere I can swing a sword and still have room to shoot is preferable."
There wasn't any need to specify who he felt would be sent after them. JCS was an important station. If anybody came, it would be Templars.... And more than likely, it would be the best of the Templars, which meant Isaac's own brother and his team.
"Besides, if worst comes to worst, we can break the mess level off from the rest of the station. Whole thing acts like a shuttle, pops down to the Moon at the touch of a button. Every level does, actually. Just goes from the bottom up."
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