Post by bbybleach on Jul 16, 2012 21:43:08 GMT -5
Username: bbybleach
Speculated Activity levels: on almost everyday. I’ll try to be on a lot.
Speculated Literacy level: HAHAHAHAh
Characters Name: Trevor Prince
Nicknames?: Trev, queer, woman
Age: 20 in 1914
Gender: male
Sexual Orientation: homosexual
Plot Availability: PRrID
Profession: Outlaw
Rank: Right hand man
Race: American (German, Irish, Welsh)
Physical: He is 5’ 8”. Blue eyes. Blond hair, small beard, missing his right eye. Has a really deep southern accent. He has various scars on his face from past fights
Attire: Blue cutoff shirt, red bandana and jeans
Weaponry: He carries a volcanic pistol most of the time but he always has his switchblade on him. He basically sleeps with it. If he’s out robbing or being chased he has a hunting knife in is boot and a Henry repeater. He’s a better knife fighter than a dead-eye but he gets around.
Skills:
History: He lived in Arizona until his father lost his leg in mining explosion and then moved to New Austin. When Trevor was 14, his dad found out he was a homosexual and they got into a huge argument which led Trevor to lose his eye after his dad attacked him. After that, he left his father for a gang in Hennigan's Stead where he met the leader, Brian. In the gang he also met his former boyfriend Crosshair Craig.
Family:
Dirk Prince - Dirk is Trevor’s abusive and drunk father.
Unknown - Mother, died in childbirth
Brian- He is the 28-year-old gang leader who's like a second father to Trevor
Various gang members around 7
Sample RP post:
The bullet propelled through the bank-teller’s head and into the window behind him, shattering it. Trevor put his volcanic pistol back in the holster while his gang trained their guns out the window in case any meddlers decided to stick their noses where they weren’t wanted.
“Cocksucker didn’t even have the balls to reach for his gun,” Trevor noted as he reached for the teller’s weapon. “Cattleman piece of shit. Is that safe open yet, Brian?”
“Shut your mouth and help me get the cash into the wagon before lawmen start coming!” Brian retorted impatiently.
“Let’s go go go!” Trevor yelled as he took grabbed some cash and bolted for the door. As the rest of the gang piled onto the wagon, Trevor and one other man stayed and waited in the bank for the police. Craig - the other man, a 16-year-old dead-eye - and Trevor were biding their time behind the counter when eight or so law-men burst in.
Trevor gave Craig a nod and both aimed their guns over the counter and opened fire.
When the smoke had cleared and all eight law-men were on the ground, the boys made their way to the back to retrieve their horses, keeping their wits about them the whole time. Before they even mounted up, Trevor heard a bang and saw a spray of red in the air beside him. He turned to Craig, who was now sporting a hole clean through his head.
Deader than dust, he didn’t even have the sense to fall to the ground right away. Trevor spun around, grabbed the knife from his boot and swung it at the lawman who had felled his companion. Blood sprayed in a gash from his face and he fell on his back. The cut had gone deep; Trevor had caught the deputy across the eyes, and the blade of his knife had nicked his brain. Trevor wouldn’t have to worry about this man shooting him in the back.
“Fuckin’ bastard. Ugh, Craig…” Trevor looked down at his now ex-boyfriend’s body. “Damn,” He mumbled quietly.
Trevor mounted his Turkmen and, casting his gaze over the mess one last time, set off.
20 minutes later he arrived back at his gang’s hideout in Mescalero.
“What happened to Craig?” Brain, the gangs leader, said.
“Got shot. How much did we make?”
“Dead? You fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Shit, you better start learnin’ how to use a snipe then.” Brain looked down at the cash. “We made about $700.”
“Damn, just a hundred bucks for each of us…” Wondering whether his lover’s life was worth a hundred dollars, Trevor started walking his horse towards Thieves’ Landing, tossing his repeater to another gang member as he went. “I’m gonna go get drunk.”
Speculated Activity levels: on almost everyday. I’ll try to be on a lot.
Speculated Literacy level: HAHAHAHAh
Characters Name: Trevor Prince
Nicknames?: Trev, queer, woman
Age: 20 in 1914
Gender: male
Sexual Orientation: homosexual
Plot Availability: PRrID
Profession: Outlaw
Rank: Right hand man
Race: American (German, Irish, Welsh)
Physical: He is 5’ 8”. Blue eyes. Blond hair, small beard, missing his right eye. Has a really deep southern accent. He has various scars on his face from past fights
Attire: Blue cutoff shirt, red bandana and jeans
Weaponry: He carries a volcanic pistol most of the time but he always has his switchblade on him. He basically sleeps with it. If he’s out robbing or being chased he has a hunting knife in is boot and a Henry repeater. He’s a better knife fighter than a dead-eye but he gets around.
Skills:
- WEAPONRY SKILL 3/5
- COMBAT SKILL 5/5
- TRACKING/HUNTING SKILL 1/5
- SURVIVAL SKILLS 3/5
- HORSEMANSHIP 2/5
- INTELLIGENCE CAPABILITIES 3/5
History: He lived in Arizona until his father lost his leg in mining explosion and then moved to New Austin. When Trevor was 14, his dad found out he was a homosexual and they got into a huge argument which led Trevor to lose his eye after his dad attacked him. After that, he left his father for a gang in Hennigan's Stead where he met the leader, Brian. In the gang he also met his former boyfriend Crosshair Craig.
Family:
Dirk Prince - Dirk is Trevor’s abusive and drunk father.
Unknown - Mother, died in childbirth
Brian- He is the 28-year-old gang leader who's like a second father to Trevor
Various gang members around 7
Sample RP post:
The bullet propelled through the bank-teller’s head and into the window behind him, shattering it. Trevor put his volcanic pistol back in the holster while his gang trained their guns out the window in case any meddlers decided to stick their noses where they weren’t wanted.
“Cocksucker didn’t even have the balls to reach for his gun,” Trevor noted as he reached for the teller’s weapon. “Cattleman piece of shit. Is that safe open yet, Brian?”
“Shut your mouth and help me get the cash into the wagon before lawmen start coming!” Brian retorted impatiently.
“Let’s go go go!” Trevor yelled as he took grabbed some cash and bolted for the door. As the rest of the gang piled onto the wagon, Trevor and one other man stayed and waited in the bank for the police. Craig - the other man, a 16-year-old dead-eye - and Trevor were biding their time behind the counter when eight or so law-men burst in.
Trevor gave Craig a nod and both aimed their guns over the counter and opened fire.
When the smoke had cleared and all eight law-men were on the ground, the boys made their way to the back to retrieve their horses, keeping their wits about them the whole time. Before they even mounted up, Trevor heard a bang and saw a spray of red in the air beside him. He turned to Craig, who was now sporting a hole clean through his head.
Deader than dust, he didn’t even have the sense to fall to the ground right away. Trevor spun around, grabbed the knife from his boot and swung it at the lawman who had felled his companion. Blood sprayed in a gash from his face and he fell on his back. The cut had gone deep; Trevor had caught the deputy across the eyes, and the blade of his knife had nicked his brain. Trevor wouldn’t have to worry about this man shooting him in the back.
“Fuckin’ bastard. Ugh, Craig…” Trevor looked down at his now ex-boyfriend’s body. “Damn,” He mumbled quietly.
Trevor mounted his Turkmen and, casting his gaze over the mess one last time, set off.
20 minutes later he arrived back at his gang’s hideout in Mescalero.
“What happened to Craig?” Brain, the gangs leader, said.
“Got shot. How much did we make?”
“Dead? You fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Shit, you better start learnin’ how to use a snipe then.” Brain looked down at the cash. “We made about $700.”
“Damn, just a hundred bucks for each of us…” Wondering whether his lover’s life was worth a hundred dollars, Trevor started walking his horse towards Thieves’ Landing, tossing his repeater to another gang member as he went. “I’m gonna go get drunk.”
