WlfSamurai
Maelstrom Engineer
Pre-Game Intros
Last edited by a moderator:
-
This section is for roleplays only.
ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.
Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
Ashes to Ashes (Apocalypse World)
- Thread starter WlfSamurai
- Start date
WlfSamurai
Maelstrom Engineer
Thank you all again for joining the game. I'm glad to have you all.
First, things that need to be said.
Now, to set the expectations before we meet your characters. This is true always:
Your job is to play your characters as though they were real people, in whatever circumstances they find themselves — cool, competent, dangerous people, but real.
My job as MC is to treat your characters as though they were real people too, and to act as though Apocalypse World were real.
Also, the Apocalypse.
The apocalypse happened about 50 years ago. The oldest people still around have childhood memories of it. Nobody knows what really happened or why, though. Maybe nobody ever knew.
"The world’s psychic maelstrom," what's that?
I dunno, what’s it sound like it is? It’s everywhere, just out of your perception, and if you open your brain up to it you can learn things from it. It from you, too. If you know how, you can reach out into it to make things happen. It caused the apocalypse, or else the apocalypse caused it, nobody knows.
More to know:
Step 1: Introductions
Everyone, introduce your character by name, look, and outlook (what you think/feel/believe/hope). REMEMBER: You all know each other and are together. You're friends or at least colleagues.
This will be quickly followed by me asking questions for each of you to answer.
First, things that need to be said.
- This is a "Rated R" game. Meaning there can be discussion and topics that may offend people or push limits. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, please do no hesitate to call it out and we can either stop or discuss.
- This is a "story-game". We will "play to find out". This means that as a player, you have some agency to create things in the game outside just your character. You can do so by establishing facts about your character or their past. Or, bringing up an idea that you think should be in the game. But, it's a double-edged sword. Nothing exists truly until it is established. That is why we leave the characters open and don't write their backstory. It is more convenient to make up new concepts and tie them to the ever-changing situation. Those pieces will have more meaning and be grounded in the character.
Now, to set the expectations before we meet your characters. This is true always:
Your job is to play your characters as though they were real people, in whatever circumstances they find themselves — cool, competent, dangerous people, but real.
My job as MC is to treat your characters as though they were real people too, and to act as though Apocalypse World were real.
Also, the Apocalypse.
The apocalypse happened about 50 years ago. The oldest people still around have childhood memories of it. Nobody knows what really happened or why, though. Maybe nobody ever knew.
"The world’s psychic maelstrom," what's that?
I dunno, what’s it sound like it is? It’s everywhere, just out of your perception, and if you open your brain up to it you can learn things from it. It from you, too. If you know how, you can reach out into it to make things happen. It caused the apocalypse, or else the apocalypse caused it, nobody knows.
More to know:
- Your characters don’t have to be friends, but they do have to know each other, and they should be basically allies. They might become enemies in play, but they shouldn’t start out enemies.
- Your characters are unique in Apocalypse World. There are other medics, and they might even be called “angel” by their friends, but you’re the only angel. There are other compound bosses and warlords who might be called “hardholders,” but you’re the only hardholder.
- Some of you get to choose armor. 1-armor can be whatever, it can be bulletproof vests, bike leathers, armored corsets, whatever. 2-armor, though, is serious body armor. Riot gear. I mean, it might be low-tech, it might be made out of a car or something, but the point is that you’re walking around in armor.
- I’m not out to get you. If I were, you could just pack it in right now, right? I’d just be like “there’s an earthquake. You all take 10-harm and die. The end.” No, I’m here to find out what’s going to happen with all your cool, hot, fucking kick-ass characters. Same as you!
Step 1: Introductions
Everyone, introduce your character by name, look, and outlook (what you think/feel/believe/hope). REMEMBER: You all know each other and are together. You're friends or at least colleagues.
This will be quickly followed by me asking questions for each of you to answer.
Teh Frixz
That lady robot
Odessa the driver. The woman that runs at the head of the convoy, charging into whatever future we have left. Be it in Prowlah or the Monster Giton. Giton the Bus. You can find her driving the routes between cities, hauling everything and everyone. Usually Giton with Prowlah hitched to the back. It's a big hard world out there but behind the wheel and a heavy lead lined boot on the pedal makes it all seem a bit smaller.
solyrflair
Have Towel - Will travel
CAL is the heavy combat machine. High-tech battle armor, flashing lights, and weapons mounted at various points. The person inside is a little harder to identify. The job is to defend his home, and that job never ends. CAL knows and fully understands the terms: shit, fan, rock, hard place, frying pan, fire. CAL is prepared for that situation. Downtime is maintenance, when the person comes out of its shell, but the Union Suit doesn't reveal much. It looks more high-tech than the metal it is designed to interface with. But, you can see the eyes, and they look haunted.
DeusExAlice
I sell body horror and body horror accessories
I am Cep Tee, I took the name from the tatters of my uniform. Someone else called me 'Cap', I did not understand the significance before or after he expired so I've hidden that patch for now. Until I know the implications, it is not safe.
The face I wear, the body I inhabit, camouflage. I try, I really do try, to be what the mask says it is. The smile with a prominent chipped tooth works like other smiles, disarming and easing tensions where needed. My skin looks like theirs, pale and ash streaked from the world. Scarred from each other. I feel strong and look stronger than most, a fault in this impersonation but not without uses. Intimidation works far better with a show of strength than without. Underneath our face writhes at this imprisonment. We want to show ourselves to the world, to feel the open air on our skin.
We need our mask though, just as we need food to live.
I've made another skin, armor they call it. It feels closer to being our real skin. It aches to be away from it, but the others think it odd to live in it all the time. Sometimes I run my hands over it when our face is painful in its cries for release. The soft, black mesh cloth is from where I came from. The place of the old gods with their bright lights, white surfaces and cold steel. I keep it loose though, I tend to rip my clothing while in combat. It used to do some special things, but the symbiotic connectors suffered from necrosis leaving it but a hollow shell. I've adopted some local touches, sewing in armor plates to create a flexible and somewhat durable carapace. As befits their custom I track my personal kills with white chalk on the right side, the side devoid of a heart. On the left where my heart would be is I would leave the mark of my family, tribe or faction I owe my loyalty to, but for now it is blank. We have not found one who deserves our true devotion. Yet.
I believe they are out there. The distance could be measured in feet, it could be in horizons or it could be just a release away from exposing itself. For now I content myself with teaching children, I have a stronger grasp of the studies than most and I like to study their faces at such a young stage. Their expressions are more pure, unrefined and uninhibited. In their faces and the masks of the adults, the words of the people with power I do not find any true promise of a better tomorrow. Instead I see stranger times coming, and with strange times our face might finally fit in.
The face I wear, the body I inhabit, camouflage. I try, I really do try, to be what the mask says it is. The smile with a prominent chipped tooth works like other smiles, disarming and easing tensions where needed. My skin looks like theirs, pale and ash streaked from the world. Scarred from each other. I feel strong and look stronger than most, a fault in this impersonation but not without uses. Intimidation works far better with a show of strength than without. Underneath our face writhes at this imprisonment. We want to show ourselves to the world, to feel the open air on our skin.
We need our mask though, just as we need food to live.
I've made another skin, armor they call it. It feels closer to being our real skin. It aches to be away from it, but the others think it odd to live in it all the time. Sometimes I run my hands over it when our face is painful in its cries for release. The soft, black mesh cloth is from where I came from. The place of the old gods with their bright lights, white surfaces and cold steel. I keep it loose though, I tend to rip my clothing while in combat. It used to do some special things, but the symbiotic connectors suffered from necrosis leaving it but a hollow shell. I've adopted some local touches, sewing in armor plates to create a flexible and somewhat durable carapace. As befits their custom I track my personal kills with white chalk on the right side, the side devoid of a heart. On the left where my heart would be is I would leave the mark of my family, tribe or faction I owe my loyalty to, but for now it is blank. We have not found one who deserves our true devotion. Yet.
I believe they are out there. The distance could be measured in feet, it could be in horizons or it could be just a release away from exposing itself. For now I content myself with teaching children, I have a stronger grasp of the studies than most and I like to study their faces at such a young stage. Their expressions are more pure, unrefined and uninhibited. In their faces and the masks of the adults, the words of the people with power I do not find any true promise of a better tomorrow. Instead I see stranger times coming, and with strange times our face might finally fit in.
DreamingofRoses
Rosa Indomitus
I'm Cassia. Wasn' my original name, some skinner got all fancy after too much alcohol and fightin' and gave it to me. Means cinnamon. Or a saint. Wasn' paying too much attention at that point, but it sounded a mite nicer than my original name so I took it. 'S simple, I'm simple, my clothes ain't nothin' special either, just those normal wraps people wear to protect them from the ash storms, with some fitted metal in the folds to keep from a knife or bullet gettin' somewhere it oughtn't. That's pretty important, since I'm usually in the thick of things when they go downhill. CAL's scary 'n' a heavy hitter, but even she--it--they can't do everything 'n I seem to have a gift for rallying folks when things get hard. That's important too, since things is always hard. That's why it's important to try to help people wherever I can and, more importantly, get them to help themselves 'n each other.
Napalm on Toast
Not Quite a New Member
They say I'm a professional.
I'm good at killing things is what they're trying to say without spelling it out, dancing around the topic to avoid offending anyone. Well I don't care much for that, so I'll say it straight up: I'm good at killing things. I like killing things. It's what I do. You all pay me to do it, and I take your barter coz a girl's gotta eat, but I'd do it for free. I've killed without a contract before. I'm sure I'll do it again. But don't you worry your pretty little head. I keep it in check 'til I need it. Everything has a proper time and place, even killing. Maybe that's what they mean by 'professional.' Think of me... as a weapon, I guess. Pay me and point me in the right direction, I'll get it done. Someone else pays me later and points me back at you? No hard feelings. Not on my half, anyway. In the end that's probably the only opinion that'll matter, coz chances are you'll be in the dirt by then. Not many people know me well, but one thing everyone knows is that I get the job done. May not do it quick or easy or quiet, but I do it. Maybe that's how I should advertise. 'Mouse: Gets Shit Done.' Has a nice ring to it, doncha think? Not that I need to advertise. The people that need to know, know. Screw the rest.
One rule that I gotta make abundantly clear: you touch my shit, you're done. The machine gun? Mine. Shotgun? Mine. Boom-tube? Mine. Machete? Mine. Feel free to appreciate from a distance, but you lay a finger on 'em you'll get to appreciate them from a much more intimate distance. You won't enjoy the experience. Same goes for the armor, although it'd be tough to catch me without the stuff on. I went through the trouble of cutting all those armor plates off that old tank and banging them into shape. I'll be damned if I'm gonna take 'em off after all that work. Used to be green, from back when the world was green, but that sticks out like a sore thumb anymore. Now the armor's as gray as the sky and it's got plenty of nicks to show where it's saved my life. More than I can say for most people.
I'm good at killing things is what they're trying to say without spelling it out, dancing around the topic to avoid offending anyone. Well I don't care much for that, so I'll say it straight up: I'm good at killing things. I like killing things. It's what I do. You all pay me to do it, and I take your barter coz a girl's gotta eat, but I'd do it for free. I've killed without a contract before. I'm sure I'll do it again. But don't you worry your pretty little head. I keep it in check 'til I need it. Everything has a proper time and place, even killing. Maybe that's what they mean by 'professional.' Think of me... as a weapon, I guess. Pay me and point me in the right direction, I'll get it done. Someone else pays me later and points me back at you? No hard feelings. Not on my half, anyway. In the end that's probably the only opinion that'll matter, coz chances are you'll be in the dirt by then. Not many people know me well, but one thing everyone knows is that I get the job done. May not do it quick or easy or quiet, but I do it. Maybe that's how I should advertise. 'Mouse: Gets Shit Done.' Has a nice ring to it, doncha think? Not that I need to advertise. The people that need to know, know. Screw the rest.
One rule that I gotta make abundantly clear: you touch my shit, you're done. The machine gun? Mine. Shotgun? Mine. Boom-tube? Mine. Machete? Mine. Feel free to appreciate from a distance, but you lay a finger on 'em you'll get to appreciate them from a much more intimate distance. You won't enjoy the experience. Same goes for the armor, although it'd be tough to catch me without the stuff on. I went through the trouble of cutting all those armor plates off that old tank and banging them into shape. I'll be damned if I'm gonna take 'em off after all that work. Used to be green, from back when the world was green, but that sticks out like a sore thumb anymore. Now the armor's as gray as the sky and it's got plenty of nicks to show where it's saved my life. More than I can say for most people.
Grey
Dialectical Hermeticist
Praise Luna, whose enlightenment pierces the Evergrey.
You've never seen Her? Oh, child, you poor, blind child. Let me open your eyes.
In an egg of steel and circuitry I descended from Luna to spread Her glory. To open the eyes and minds of the sleepers. I see, my acolytes see - the World In The Wind, where the Everygrey is banished and all is pure in the moonlight. A place of dust and ghosts to which the dead are called.
Like my Mother, I am not one thing. Like Her, I change, as She changes. Stability, order, sanity - these are trappings of the old world, the world that died.
We must change if we are to thrive, and one day return to Her.
I am the Moon's Spawn. I will make you whole.
You've never seen Her? Oh, child, you poor, blind child. Let me open your eyes.
In an egg of steel and circuitry I descended from Luna to spread Her glory. To open the eyes and minds of the sleepers. I see, my acolytes see - the World In The Wind, where the Everygrey is banished and all is pure in the moonlight. A place of dust and ghosts to which the dead are called.
Like my Mother, I am not one thing. Like Her, I change, as She changes. Stability, order, sanity - these are trappings of the old world, the world that died.
We must change if we are to thrive, and one day return to Her.
I am the Moon's Spawn. I will make you whole.
SleepiestBear7
All Chromed Up for Valhalla
I bet you're asking yourself who i am. Well, i'm the smartest man you'll ever meet.
Any kind of technology you need, i can make it. You need a generator? Easy, i just need some scrap metal. You want a security camera system installed into your house? I can do that, but it will cost you a lot of barter. You don't have enough money? Don't worry, we can come up with something. I'm a businessman, after all.
Oh, you want to come with me into my workplace? No, i'm afraid that's not possible. Trust me, you don't want to see the things that i keep there. It might blow your mind. Literally.
I just noticed that i never presented myself. Excuse me. My name is Morrell, i am The Savvyhead.
Any kind of technology you need, i can make it. You need a generator? Easy, i just need some scrap metal. You want a security camera system installed into your house? I can do that, but it will cost you a lot of barter. You don't have enough money? Don't worry, we can come up with something. I'm a businessman, after all.
Oh, you want to come with me into my workplace? No, i'm afraid that's not possible. Trust me, you don't want to see the things that i keep there. It might blow your mind. Literally.
I just noticed that i never presented myself. Excuse me. My name is Morrell, i am The Savvyhead.
SephirothSage
Eldritch Abomination
The names Longinus, Partner- just Longinus. Longy, if I like yah.
I'm the old man, the long man- the man with the wild blue eyes and a gentle smile. My coat rests over my breastplate- styled like the knights of old, worn beneath a heavy leather longcoat. But how I look- it aint so important, not really. I got my Lance.. my Sword... and my armor. My whole body though- that's the shield, and it can be shown in the nicks and scars and scrapes.
I keep order 'round here- I'm not in charge or nothin, mind; I just make sure to keep everyone else sane, and keep an eye on everything. I'm the one who'll always lend a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen- and a hand to right the wrongs. You might not like what I have to say in counsel back to your worries- you might not appreciate my judgement... but at the end of the day, I'll know that what I did was right- and that's enough for me. I wasn't put on this world to be liked. To be happy- I was put on this world to make others happy, to protect others. To keep you folks safe- whatever the price to me, my body, my soul...
Yeah. I'm here for you lot, not for me. Here to keep the peace and order among us, to keep us a working whole... and to stop us from descending into the same vile rot, sin, and depravity the rest of the world has. The names Longinus, and atonement is a long road- and one I'll never stop walking.
Care to join me, partner?
I'm the old man, the long man- the man with the wild blue eyes and a gentle smile. My coat rests over my breastplate- styled like the knights of old, worn beneath a heavy leather longcoat. But how I look- it aint so important, not really. I got my Lance.. my Sword... and my armor. My whole body though- that's the shield, and it can be shown in the nicks and scars and scrapes.
I keep order 'round here- I'm not in charge or nothin, mind; I just make sure to keep everyone else sane, and keep an eye on everything. I'm the one who'll always lend a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen- and a hand to right the wrongs. You might not like what I have to say in counsel back to your worries- you might not appreciate my judgement... but at the end of the day, I'll know that what I did was right- and that's enough for me. I wasn't put on this world to be liked. To be happy- I was put on this world to make others happy, to protect others. To keep you folks safe- whatever the price to me, my body, my soul...
Yeah. I'm here for you lot, not for me. Here to keep the peace and order among us, to keep us a working whole... and to stop us from descending into the same vile rot, sin, and depravity the rest of the world has. The names Longinus, and atonement is a long road- and one I'll never stop walking.
Care to join me, partner?
Arlet
New Member
I am a busy man, but I suppose there is always time for pleasantries. If you are here for business, you may call me Malik, but for the rest of you I am known as Zarani. I have always had a very simple dream, a dream that the world has chosen to make complicated as the days go by. I simply wish to give this world a little taste of the Golden age flavor that our ancestors had a hold of. Is that so wrong?
I mint coins, placing the symbol of my Hardhold's flag on them to let others know where they're from. I establish order- as best I can- and try to maintain a system that goes beyond this tribal lifestyle. It doesn't always work but I suppose that's why we have guns, isn't it? If you can't keep the peace, you can always keep the dogs at bay. Even dogs stay cowed when pain is the only other option. These barbarians will learn this eventually as well.
But don't take me for some old world dreamer, thinking himself the sophist the world has always needed. That isn't possible anymore, and I've seen way too many men die trying to achieve such things. I will gladly get into the dirt with my own men and maintain order in my land. We have staked our claim here, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let some ashen sky, or dead wasteland, or even desperate fools push me from it.
So I suppose the only thing left to say is, are you with me or against me? I treat those that assist with an open palm. But I only open that palm once.
I mint coins, placing the symbol of my Hardhold's flag on them to let others know where they're from. I establish order- as best I can- and try to maintain a system that goes beyond this tribal lifestyle. It doesn't always work but I suppose that's why we have guns, isn't it? If you can't keep the peace, you can always keep the dogs at bay. Even dogs stay cowed when pain is the only other option. These barbarians will learn this eventually as well.
But don't take me for some old world dreamer, thinking himself the sophist the world has always needed. That isn't possible anymore, and I've seen way too many men die trying to achieve such things. I will gladly get into the dirt with my own men and maintain order in my land. We have staked our claim here, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let some ashen sky, or dead wasteland, or even desperate fools push me from it.
So I suppose the only thing left to say is, are you with me or against me? I treat those that assist with an open palm. But I only open that palm once.
WlfSamurai
Maelstrom Engineer
Character Questions
The first five questions are for everyone to answer. Some of you have answered some of them in varying degrees, I just want them explicit. The questions related to just you follow after.
[*]Odessa
[*]CAL
[*]Cep Tee
[*]Cassia
[*]Mouse
[*]Moon
[*]Morrell
[*]Longinus
[*]Zarani
The first five questions are for everyone to answer. Some of you have answered some of them in varying degrees, I just want them explicit. The questions related to just you follow after.
- EVERYONE ANSWER THESE
Where do you live/sleep?
- How did you come to the holding?
- How do you contribute to the holding OR how do you make your scratch?
- What does a typical day look like for you?
- Who do you depend on to get your job done everyday?
[*]Odessa
- What was your last shipment and to where?
- What do you haul the most?
- Hauling all that isn't easy, otherwise everyone would do it. It's dangerous. What are some, or the most prominent, dangers?
[*]CAL
- Where did you get your suit? OR Who did you have to kill to get it?
- I'm tempted to ask what you look like outside of you suit, but I want to have that revealed in-game.
[*]Cep Tee
- Have there been any who have seen your mask and lived? If so, who are they?
- What are you looking for in a tribe or family that would be worthy of drawing their mark on your armor?
[*]Cassia
- Who were the last people you helped?
- What kind of help did they need?
- Were you successful? How?
[*]Mouse
- Who was/were the last person/people you were hired to kill?
- Who hired you?
- Who was/were the last person/people you killed for free?
- Why?
[*]Moon
- Who from your followers had to be dealt with because they were causing trouble?
- What was the trouble?
- What did you do to take care of it?
- What is it like to be "baptized" into your faith?
[*]Morrell
- You may have answered this in the questions above already, but who helps you in your workshop?
- What was the last project you currently worked on?
[*]Longinus
- Who was the last person you had to track down?
- What happened when you did?
[*]Zarani
- What does the holding's flag look like?
- Who's top dog in your crew? How did she/he become top dog?
- What was the last dispute you had to tamp down?
Last edited by a moderator:
Grey
Dialectical Hermeticist
- Where do you live/sleep?
The old tower, just outside the walls of Zarani's factory.
- How did you come to the holding?
I was lead by visions from mother Luna.
- How do you contribute to the holding OR how do you make your scratch?
My acolytes labour in the factory and markets, and I relieve them of their burden.
- What does a typical day look like for you?
I rise and lead prayers, then spend the day in meditation and study. I tend to the spiritual needs of the community and prepare for the night's hunting.
- Who do you depend on to get your job done everyday?
The savvy one keeps the machines of my temple in operation and will be persuaded to assist me in restoring the devices at the top, I am sure. My acolyte Cruithne handles the mundane affairs of my ministry so that I may contemplate sacred mysteries, and Garland is my bodyguard.
- Who from your followers had to be dealt with because they were causing trouble?
Surly, Luna rest her soul. Her blasphemy had to be punished, and so she was the subject of our last hunt.
- What was the trouble?
She claimed Luna did not exist. That I was lying to my pack, misleading them.
- What did you do to take care of it?
We restrained her, daubed her in sacred unguents and dressed her in ceremonial garb.
Then we hunted her across the waste and tore her to fucking shreds.
- What is it like to be "baptized" into your faith?
To Know, you must See. You must join me in communion with Luna, and surrender your mind to Her.
We have a room with reinforced doors and padded walls for this reason. The vast majority of supplicants come back.
Teh Frixz
That lady robot
- Where do you live/sleep?
Inside Giton idiot! You think I'd leave that much hardware lying around and not be using him as much as he uses me!?
- How did you come to the holding?
Traveling this and that way. It's the best point to reach all my needs in a single trip. Food, gas, bullets, water. All within range.
- How do you contribute to the holding OR how do you make your scratch?
I haul goods and services and sometimes get rid of things nobody wants.
- What does a typical day look like for you?
I wake up, check my vehicles top to bottom. I know what should and shouldn't be there so anything that is added, I killerase and anything taken away I findreplace.
[*]Who do you depend on to get your job done everyday?
- Fuck you nobody that's who. I do it because I'm fucking Odessa. I drive others die. EVERYWON here would be in a trucking pedal cart if it wasn't for Odessa.
- What was your last shipment and to where?
Rice City. Hauling currency and people there. Just Rice back. But why should I have told you!? Loose lops call the cops and looser still cause the thrill. Get out of here! GET OFF MY BUS!
- What do you haul the most?
Ehhhhhhh currency. All the coins and mints the hardheader thinks help and people outside the walls of the factory scramble for. It's them I see the most in barrels in my back seats.
- Hauling all that isn't easy, otherwise everyone would do it. It's dangerous. What are some, or the most prominent, dangers?
The simplest is Breakdowns. Either me or the cars. Sometimes we both just go off and it takes us time to get right. The cars ain't got no brain so they need more help than I do getting right. Other than that, it's the people I'm meeting and the people I haul and the people that try and jack me. People that I meet are weirdos and mostly I keep moving. People I haul sometimes think they can fight me while I drive Giton. I wear belt for a reason. People trying to jack me just want to rob rape or rek my shit because that's what they do. Oh and the Evergrey. It tries to choke me now and then but I'm tooo trucking ducking fucking strong to get choked. Any more DAMN questions!?
Last edited by a moderator:
Napalm on Toast
Not Quite a New Member
- Where do you live/sleep?
I live in the Garage. Premium real estate, underground, one big sloped entrance but a couple of smaller ones have been chiseled up to the surface. Plenty of people live down here, but they all mind their own business. My place is way in the back, an old trailer crammed in a concrete corner. Comfortable enough, and it's got a good line of sight to the sloped entrance... plus a bolthole I made myself.
[*]How did you come to the holding?
- Was on a caravan a while back. The pay was good, but didn't hold much with what they trafficked. People heading to Rice City, but they didn't exactly want to go, you get me? Too doped up to complain or realize they were about to be fertilizer. They passed through the hold and I got a better offer, so I stayed. Heard that caravan got waylaid. No tears shed here.
[*]How do you contribute to the holding OR how do you make your scratch?
- You got the barter, I do the job. I can be a sentry or an enforcer, a bodyguard or a killer, whatever ya need. I got a deal with the holding: I throw in when the going gets rough (which is plenty often) and they give me all the bullets I need (which is plenty, too). Plus, I let Zarani know most my jobs ahead of time. He doesn't have a say in whether or not I do them, but... consider it a bit of courtesy, if you must.
[*]What does a typical day look like for you?
- I spend most mornings making stripping down my guns and getting them ready for the day. Then I get to work. Usually got a job or two lined up, it depends. Pitch in on a trip to Rice City, patrol the Narrows, hunt down some psycho... all in a day's work. Usually meet up with Vickers each night. He's the man you talk to if you wanna hire me. I throw some coins his way so I don't have to deal with the saps around town, not 'less they're important. Not much for small talk.
[*]Who do you depend on to get your job done everyday?
- I like working alone. Easier, no one holding me back. Vickers might be on my payroll, but he'd get me (or himself) killed on a job. Only time one of my guns got too busted up to use I took it to Morrell in his scrapheap. The man got her workin' again, easy as breathing, so I guess he can't be that bad... but I don't depend on him, you hear me? I take care of myself.
[*]Who was/were the last person/people you were hired to kill?
- Group of savages trying to encroach on the Narrows. Attacking travelers, laying traps, making their own tolls, raping and robbing up and down the swamps. Thought they had an easy mark when they saw me all on my lonesome. They were wrong.
[*]Who hired you?
- Foster. Girl usually cleans up her own messes, but sometimes she needs help with the wetwork and I'm happy to oblige. The pay is good, and she doesn't mess around.
[*]Who was/were the last person/people you killed for free?
- Dando. Him and his damn dogs.
[*]Why?
- Sometimes a person thinks I'm all talk. Sometimes they think they can get away with insulting me. Sometimes they think they can try to hire me, get me out alone with only the Evergrey as witness, and take care of me. You know who won't think that anymore? Fucking Dando, that's who. The ambush didn't work, and when I got back to town I made sure he knew it.
Last edited by a moderator:
SephirothSage
Eldritch Abomination
- Where do you live/sleep? I've got an old little shed of to the side by the factory. I carved a sign and hung it up- it's my Sheriff's office now. I got a bed in the back, and an office in the front- all I need, considerin I eat with the workin men at the factory; I don't spend much time at home.
- How did you come to the holding? I do a lot of huntin 'round these wastes. Monsters human and otherwise, men and beasts alike- I uphold the Right, the Just. I found out 'bout a place that was trying to distribute currency- bring some kind of society back to this hellscape. Decided to put up there, and help them out.
- How do you contribute to the holding OR how do you make your scratch? I keep the order. I hold Trials, I take bounties, and I keep the law. Hopefully with Zarani's approval- if the mans in charge here, after all, does him good to be the executive branch- me, I'm the Legislative. Judge, Jury, and Executioner more oft than not- but if I get someone who aint too dangerous to take to trial, I'll try n' get a Jury together, won't lie. I keep things safe.
- What does a typical day look like for you? 'Pends. Some days, it's just patrollin' town, helpin' out with the hard labor that's every-which-where, keeping everything in order while I keep my out for crooks. Some days, it's headin' out with one of the Caravans of trade to guard it on it's way. Some days, it's headin out to find another monster and put them down.
- Who do you depend on to get your job done everyday? His names Phillip. I consider him my deputy- when I'm out, he takes care of things in town for me 'best he can- I've been trying to teach the kid everything I know. He doesn't come with me on hunts quite yet, obviously- he's too young to be killing yet... but I'm hopin I get my code through to the boy before I pass.
- Who was the last person you had to track down? Most folks round here just called him "Krueger'. Some freak who claimed to have received visions from some kind of 'fear god' in his sleep- a real wackjob of a Hocus, I suppose. Crazy bastard strapped knives to his gloves, and went out tearin folks apart. I couldn't have that in my world- so I went out into the wastes to track him and his fucknuts fear cult down.
- What happened when you did? The crazy fuck had gathered a cult of people like him- worshiping the fears that motivate people deep inside, calling himself their leader and leading them to become one of the sickest bands of raiders you ever heard of. I took a position on a bluff a good mile out from their camp- and started picking them off one by one, starting with the leader.
Two of em managed to reach me. They had the distinct honor of dying by my sword.
solyrflair
Have Towel - Will travel
Where do you live/sleep?
Once I had a bed, back in the days when i needed one. Without Halsey, I find them too large and take too much space. I fit better into my nest. I built it with cage wire, plastic strapping, and mud mixed with gypsum compound. I hang it from the beam of my shipping container. There I can sleep where the dreams of my old life don't bother me.
How did you come to the holding?
It was Halsey, my women. I was her man. We set out from Garfield Hall when it burned. Chased part of the way, we lost them when we split from the rest of the group after 5 days. 2 weeks later, we decided to stop evading our hunters and went looking for Spring Hill. That's not this place, but we stopped here when Halsey got tired. Days stretched into weeks before Halsey passed.
How do you contribute to the holding OR how do you make your scratch?
Halsey was the warrior, I was a tinkerer. I worked with the old equipment, the small stuff, personal items. Not like the big things the factory needs. Halsey could bring home the coins, I would do small repairs and bring home small tokens of appreciation. That doesn't work any more. Now, I am the warrior, trying to understand everything Halsey told me. I am learning, and I have the armour for when I make mistakes.
What does a typical day look like for you?
If I am working I don't even sleep. I rely on the machine to keep me awake. There is that constant hum that keeps my mind focused, that keeps me connected to the maelstrom. Normally I am on outside sentry. The systems and sensors give me a better view than one can see with normal eyes. A few times I may have riflemen with me, but most times I go alone. It takes three days to make the circuit.
Who do you depend on to get your job done everyday?
The Machine. Every moment, not just every day. When I am not on my circuit, I sleep in my nest. I hide from the maelstrom, let my body recover, what little is left. Eat a little and sleep some more. But it is the Machine that nourishes me, that keeps me awake, that provides my physical functions.
Where did you get your suit? OR Who did you have to kill to get it?
I didn't have to kill anyone, though I did Kill many. It was really who I had to die to. Repeatedly; while They learned what they could from me. I was in the Lot of Market Town. I lost my barter in a bad deal, and tried to make up for it. The hold needed me to come back with more. I bargained my way into a deal in the Lot, but I lost myself as well as the deal. They strapped me down, cut my clothes away, and started carving. Things went black after that.
The Machine found me. It was talking to me in my head. I crawled inside and it brought me back from dead. It seared the wounds shut, and then we left. Burned our way out and back to the hold. I believe they think I made this choice with the barter they had given me. I don't have the heart to tell them the truth. Not any more.
I'm tempted to ask what you look like outside of you suit, but I want to have that revealed in-game.
Once I had a bed, back in the days when i needed one. Without Halsey, I find them too large and take too much space. I fit better into my nest. I built it with cage wire, plastic strapping, and mud mixed with gypsum compound. I hang it from the beam of my shipping container. There I can sleep where the dreams of my old life don't bother me.
How did you come to the holding?
It was Halsey, my women. I was her man. We set out from Garfield Hall when it burned. Chased part of the way, we lost them when we split from the rest of the group after 5 days. 2 weeks later, we decided to stop evading our hunters and went looking for Spring Hill. That's not this place, but we stopped here when Halsey got tired. Days stretched into weeks before Halsey passed.
How do you contribute to the holding OR how do you make your scratch?
Halsey was the warrior, I was a tinkerer. I worked with the old equipment, the small stuff, personal items. Not like the big things the factory needs. Halsey could bring home the coins, I would do small repairs and bring home small tokens of appreciation. That doesn't work any more. Now, I am the warrior, trying to understand everything Halsey told me. I am learning, and I have the armour for when I make mistakes.
What does a typical day look like for you?
If I am working I don't even sleep. I rely on the machine to keep me awake. There is that constant hum that keeps my mind focused, that keeps me connected to the maelstrom. Normally I am on outside sentry. The systems and sensors give me a better view than one can see with normal eyes. A few times I may have riflemen with me, but most times I go alone. It takes three days to make the circuit.
Who do you depend on to get your job done everyday?
The Machine. Every moment, not just every day. When I am not on my circuit, I sleep in my nest. I hide from the maelstrom, let my body recover, what little is left. Eat a little and sleep some more. But it is the Machine that nourishes me, that keeps me awake, that provides my physical functions.
Where did you get your suit? OR Who did you have to kill to get it?
I didn't have to kill anyone, though I did Kill many. It was really who I had to die to. Repeatedly; while They learned what they could from me. I was in the Lot of Market Town. I lost my barter in a bad deal, and tried to make up for it. The hold needed me to come back with more. I bargained my way into a deal in the Lot, but I lost myself as well as the deal. They strapped me down, cut my clothes away, and started carving. Things went black after that.
The Machine found me. It was talking to me in my head. I crawled inside and it brought me back from dead. It seared the wounds shut, and then we left. Burned our way out and back to the hold. I believe they think I made this choice with the barter they had given me. I don't have the heart to tell them the truth. Not any more.
I'm tempted to ask what you look like outside of you suit, but I want to have that revealed in-game.
Arlet
New Member
Where do you live/sleep?
I live within a room in the upper levels of the factory, adjusted so I can have a view to look over the bulk of the holding. I don't sleep more than I have to, so I use the same room for that purpose. It's more built for business than comfort, however.
How did you come to the holding?
I was born in it's previous inception. My parents had come from somewhere far off, and they had joined with a large group of other such refugees. My father began to gather people together in an attempt to create some civility. When I came of age, I continued his work.
How do you contribute to the holding/How do you make your scratch?
I deal with it's disputes, I deal with it's enemies, and I make sure that those that are supposed to protect it don't decide to turn their guns inward. I keep a special plot of land next to the factory to bury those that feel like they can do my job better than me. Last I knew, a few of them were still trying to get out.
What does a typical day look like for you?
The same as the typical night. Between the people trying to garner my attention for petty disputes, I am constantly trying to maintain some form of discipline amongst my soldiers. On top of that, I need to make sure the hounds that call themselves warlords keep their carcasses from my door step. I occasionally have the time to stop and enjoy music, but I would barely call that typical.
Who do you depend on to get your job done every day?
In a broad sense? Everyone. I depend on them not murdering each other senselessly so I can at least pretend to assume everything is working like normal. I know better, but what is life without a bit of hope? Beyond that, I have Estell and Leiger for helping me do book keeping to tend to the taxes we bring in from trade. I have Hatchfield to help me run the factory, Janduss to help with the 'educational' classes inside said factory to attempt and teach the citizens young that loyalty is awarded.
Beyond that, Gracei. She makes my days feel a lot safer, and she makes my soldiers toe the line when I can't get to it.
What does your holding's flag look like?
Who's top dog in your crew? How did she/he become top dog?
Gracei, or Grace as I prefer to call her. I wouldn't honestly call it “becoming” the top dog, so much as she's always had absolute authority. It was her lead that led to me being able to keep my soldiers toeing the line. She's been around for as long as I can remember, at least since I had begun to make my hold on things known.
My father had always told me that surviving properly required quite a bit of grace. I know he didn't mean it literally, but she certainly feels necessary. And I don't trust many others with a gun at my back, if I'm entirely honest.
What was the last dispute you had to tamp down?
A few of the lads didn't understand the need to pay off “primitive warlords” instead of outright dealing with them. What was almost a full fledged rebellion was stamped off with some late night correctional classes. A few of them were let back into the guard. Every now and again we ensure the air holes on their leader's shallow grave are still in place.
Disrespect isn't treated well in my town.
I live within a room in the upper levels of the factory, adjusted so I can have a view to look over the bulk of the holding. I don't sleep more than I have to, so I use the same room for that purpose. It's more built for business than comfort, however.
How did you come to the holding?
I was born in it's previous inception. My parents had come from somewhere far off, and they had joined with a large group of other such refugees. My father began to gather people together in an attempt to create some civility. When I came of age, I continued his work.
How do you contribute to the holding/How do you make your scratch?
I deal with it's disputes, I deal with it's enemies, and I make sure that those that are supposed to protect it don't decide to turn their guns inward. I keep a special plot of land next to the factory to bury those that feel like they can do my job better than me. Last I knew, a few of them were still trying to get out.
What does a typical day look like for you?
The same as the typical night. Between the people trying to garner my attention for petty disputes, I am constantly trying to maintain some form of discipline amongst my soldiers. On top of that, I need to make sure the hounds that call themselves warlords keep their carcasses from my door step. I occasionally have the time to stop and enjoy music, but I would barely call that typical.
Who do you depend on to get your job done every day?
In a broad sense? Everyone. I depend on them not murdering each other senselessly so I can at least pretend to assume everything is working like normal. I know better, but what is life without a bit of hope? Beyond that, I have Estell and Leiger for helping me do book keeping to tend to the taxes we bring in from trade. I have Hatchfield to help me run the factory, Janduss to help with the 'educational' classes inside said factory to attempt and teach the citizens young that loyalty is awarded.
Beyond that, Gracei. She makes my days feel a lot safer, and she makes my soldiers toe the line when I can't get to it.
What does your holding's flag look like?
Who's top dog in your crew? How did she/he become top dog?
Gracei, or Grace as I prefer to call her. I wouldn't honestly call it “becoming” the top dog, so much as she's always had absolute authority. It was her lead that led to me being able to keep my soldiers toeing the line. She's been around for as long as I can remember, at least since I had begun to make my hold on things known.
My father had always told me that surviving properly required quite a bit of grace. I know he didn't mean it literally, but she certainly feels necessary. And I don't trust many others with a gun at my back, if I'm entirely honest.
What was the last dispute you had to tamp down?
A few of the lads didn't understand the need to pay off “primitive warlords” instead of outright dealing with them. What was almost a full fledged rebellion was stamped off with some late night correctional classes. A few of them were let back into the guard. Every now and again we ensure the air holes on their leader's shallow grave are still in place.
Disrespect isn't treated well in my town.
Last edited by a moderator:
DeusExAlice
I sell body horror and body horror accessories
Where do you live/sleep?
Inside the classroom itself, I have a cot that I got for by trading canned rations to a traveler who was starving to death. Back then I had too many of the things, I didn't quite understand how valuable they actually were. The room though, it's inside of the factory walls. There's a number of rooms like it, quarters for different personnel back in the old days it looks like. Now this one is used to teach the kids. I get the space, Zarani gets laborers who grow up with the machines themselves.
How did you come to the holding?
On my own two feet, across the wastes. We were sick at this point, something we had caught out among the whispers of the dead world. It wasn't a virus or a parasyte, but something that afflicted our existence. I watched and listened to some of Moon's sermons, something about the energy in the crowd and their words soothed the disease that wracked us. After that? I had taken to giving some guidance to the scrappy little orphans that lurked in the garage or other corners of this hold. Enough started showing up enough I decided to make it more offical, commanding and instructioning felt right.
How do you contribute to the holding OR how do you make your scratch?
Primarily the school. Parents more often than not can't afford to drag their kid along with them to whatever they do for a living and letting them run wild is a good way to lose them all together. It's not much, but the few coins they drop off every once in awhile keeps me in food. Other times our face gets agitated. Like an itch one can't reach, we're compelled to seek out a particular location. Every place we've been led to has inevitably been a lethal engagement. How exactly it knows where to go is a question we'd like answered ourselves.
What does a typical day look like for you?
Class starts early, I like to go over the less direct things first while the factory is waking up and kicking into gear. Then when its in full swing there might be some hands on lessons in the factory or somewhere else in the hard hold, a few people agreed to this class level of apprenticeship. Otherwise there might be a field trip staying relatively close to the hold, plenty of problems lurk on the horizon. After class ends and the kids go on their way I like to straighten things up, get something to eat and watch Moon's tower from the walls before going to sleep.
Who do you depend on to get your job done everyday?
The children. They can choose not to show up, I can't exactly force them to. If they're too disruptive I could kick them out, but just that one foul up could ruin some patronage.
Have there been any who have seen your mask and lived? If so, who are they?
Two I am specifically aware of, it is quite possible there have been others I am not aware of. If they have, they either don't associate us with that or have the good sense to stay away. Lenora, Odessa and Longinius have seen it though. Lenora is one of my students and she had been abducted by slavers on the way to Camp Dog Head. We weren't overtly concerned about the child, but my mask had grown attatched to the charges in my care. Longinius was looking to right a wrong, his face still shackled by old world values. Odessa provided the wheels to catch up with their likewise mounted quarry. Lenora got the best look at our face, she was locked up in a cargo truck with others. We know some of the other kidnapped victims were cut down in the crossfire, but we rended apart every raider in that vehicle with tooth and claw. We felt the anger from my face towards these would-be-slavers for what they had tried. Longinius and Odessa were there before we had even finished inside. We didn't know of their arrival until hearing the new and different calibers of gunfire coming from the direction or there arrival. Lenora was safe, our mask trusts Longinius to an extent. We left the same way we had come, through the steel plated walls of the vehicle and into the ash wastes. It might have only been a glimpse or a quick sighting, but I am certain those two have seen us when the mask was off.
What are you looking for in a tribe or family that would be worthy of drawing their mark on your armor?
We want the freedom our flesh is denied. This place, these people, all of them cling to the pieces of the Old World. Our very existence is a part of the Old World. If there were a people, a creed, a unit, anything that wished and worked towards shedding these bindings then we would have found something that deserved to be indentified with.
Inside the classroom itself, I have a cot that I got for by trading canned rations to a traveler who was starving to death. Back then I had too many of the things, I didn't quite understand how valuable they actually were. The room though, it's inside of the factory walls. There's a number of rooms like it, quarters for different personnel back in the old days it looks like. Now this one is used to teach the kids. I get the space, Zarani gets laborers who grow up with the machines themselves.
How did you come to the holding?
On my own two feet, across the wastes. We were sick at this point, something we had caught out among the whispers of the dead world. It wasn't a virus or a parasyte, but something that afflicted our existence. I watched and listened to some of Moon's sermons, something about the energy in the crowd and their words soothed the disease that wracked us. After that? I had taken to giving some guidance to the scrappy little orphans that lurked in the garage or other corners of this hold. Enough started showing up enough I decided to make it more offical, commanding and instructioning felt right.
How do you contribute to the holding OR how do you make your scratch?
Primarily the school. Parents more often than not can't afford to drag their kid along with them to whatever they do for a living and letting them run wild is a good way to lose them all together. It's not much, but the few coins they drop off every once in awhile keeps me in food. Other times our face gets agitated. Like an itch one can't reach, we're compelled to seek out a particular location. Every place we've been led to has inevitably been a lethal engagement. How exactly it knows where to go is a question we'd like answered ourselves.
What does a typical day look like for you?
Class starts early, I like to go over the less direct things first while the factory is waking up and kicking into gear. Then when its in full swing there might be some hands on lessons in the factory or somewhere else in the hard hold, a few people agreed to this class level of apprenticeship. Otherwise there might be a field trip staying relatively close to the hold, plenty of problems lurk on the horizon. After class ends and the kids go on their way I like to straighten things up, get something to eat and watch Moon's tower from the walls before going to sleep.
Who do you depend on to get your job done everyday?
The children. They can choose not to show up, I can't exactly force them to. If they're too disruptive I could kick them out, but just that one foul up could ruin some patronage.
Have there been any who have seen your mask and lived? If so, who are they?
Two I am specifically aware of, it is quite possible there have been others I am not aware of. If they have, they either don't associate us with that or have the good sense to stay away. Lenora, Odessa and Longinius have seen it though. Lenora is one of my students and she had been abducted by slavers on the way to Camp Dog Head. We weren't overtly concerned about the child, but my mask had grown attatched to the charges in my care. Longinius was looking to right a wrong, his face still shackled by old world values. Odessa provided the wheels to catch up with their likewise mounted quarry. Lenora got the best look at our face, she was locked up in a cargo truck with others. We know some of the other kidnapped victims were cut down in the crossfire, but we rended apart every raider in that vehicle with tooth and claw. We felt the anger from my face towards these would-be-slavers for what they had tried. Longinius and Odessa were there before we had even finished inside. We didn't know of their arrival until hearing the new and different calibers of gunfire coming from the direction or there arrival. Lenora was safe, our mask trusts Longinius to an extent. We left the same way we had come, through the steel plated walls of the vehicle and into the ash wastes. It might have only been a glimpse or a quick sighting, but I am certain those two have seen us when the mask was off.
What are you looking for in a tribe or family that would be worthy of drawing their mark on your armor?
We want the freedom our flesh is denied. This place, these people, all of them cling to the pieces of the Old World. Our very existence is a part of the Old World. If there were a people, a creed, a unit, anything that wished and worked towards shedding these bindings then we would have found something that deserved to be indentified with.
DreamingofRoses
Rosa Indomitus
- Where do you live/sleep?
Wherever anyone will have me. Right now, I'm renting a room from this kid named Dust. Not sure what all he's into, but he's got a decent building in the hold. One of few places to sleep where there's food 'n' entertainment too. Dust's got a lot going on.
- How did you come to the holding
I was born here, I think. At least in this area before Mr. Malik Big-Britches came strollin' in like he owned the place. Can't rightly remember when I came back though. One of those holes in my memory I can't quite stitch together. Like where I went.
- How do you contribute to the holding OR how do you make your scratch?
This 'n' that. I volunteer with the hold guards sometimes, or freelance my services to people who need a good fighter.
- What does a typical day look like for you?
If there ain't no-one running around in a panic, and I don't have a contract with someone that requires I get up in the middle of the night, I try to sleep in. Although, when I get to sleep in it usually means I don' have a job and it's time to go find someone who needs some help for some barter. Or I wind up in the middle o' something I probably wasn't supposed to be in to begin with, Those are always the fun jobs.
- Who do you depend on to get your job done everyday?
Myself, mostly. Don't really have partners unless it's on specific jobs.
- Who were the last people you helped?
A small caravan with a couple of cargo trucks that couldn't move real fast.
- What kind of help did they need?
Said they needed help hauling a load of goods to Market Town. Said they needed a good guard to keep the raiders away, even on the Narrows nothing is safe. Offered to pay me pretty well, too.
- Were you successful? How?
Depends on who you ask. The guys who hired me thought I couldn' tell what kind of 'cargo' they were haulin'. Or at least I wouldn't care enough to stick my neck out over them. Turns out, a stun gun shot to the neck can make people rethink a great many things, like why they're selling flesh to begin with. I don't think they would say I helped them, but those in the cargo trucks probably would.
WlfSamurai
Maelstrom Engineer
Step 2: Hx
Look at your playbook. Find the Hx section and look for "On your turn...". Do what it says. There is no need to detail how or why those things have happened yet.
At any time, do what it says under "On others' turns..." to modify what people are giving you for Hx.
Look at your playbook. Find the Hx section and look for "On your turn...". Do what it says. There is no need to detail how or why those things have happened yet.
At any time, do what it says under "On others' turns..." to modify what people are giving you for Hx.
DreamingofRoses
Rosa Indomitus
On my turn:
Everyone knows me after a fashion. +1 Hx for all y'all.
On everyone else's turn:
Moon: You're a good enough person, I s'pose, but you embody the weirdness behind this godforsaken world. What place will you have when the sun shines again?
Mouse: I seen your sort before. Bloodlust is a drug, and a damn potent one at that. When it's time to put the weapons down, would you be able to?
Zarani: You can't make a home in a wasteland without some cruelty and you're damn good at that, but what place will that have in a safer future?
Everyone knows me after a fashion. +1 Hx for all y'all.
On everyone else's turn:
Moon: You're a good enough person, I s'pose, but you embody the weirdness behind this godforsaken world. What place will you have when the sun shines again?
Mouse: I seen your sort before. Bloodlust is a drug, and a damn potent one at that. When it's time to put the weapons down, would you be able to?
Zarani: You can't make a home in a wasteland without some cruelty and you're damn good at that, but what place will that have in a safer future?
Last edited by a moderator:
Teh Frixz
That lady robot
One of you have been on the road with me for days. Whoever it was, you get Hx + 2 and the rest of you get Hx +1.
Except you Cassia. I ain't one to get close to your kind. Religion and hope is for those without a car. Hx -1
Except you Cassia. I ain't one to get close to your kind. Religion and hope is for those without a car. Hx -1
Grey
Dialectical Hermeticist
On my turn:
If you follow my teachings, Hx+2
If not, Hx+0
If you follow my teachings, Hx+2
If not, Hx+0
DeusExAlice
I sell body horror and body horror accessories
Mouse, you helped me do something terrible. Keep your mouth shut about it and take Hx+2
Everyone else gets Hx+1!
Everyone else gets Hx+1!