Post by graboids on Sept 8, 2012 14:17:19 GMT -5
Username: graboids
Speculated Activity levels: I’m going to say a few times a week, to be safe.
Speculated Literacy level: I think my grammar is a little wonky, but yeah pretty good. Average word count elsewhere has been 150-400 words
Characters Name: Daniel Vega
Nicknames?: None
Age: 25 (born 1886)
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Plot Availability: PID
Profession: Stagecoach driver
Rank: N/A
Race: American and Mexican
Physical: Daniel has a thin, wiry body type. He is 5’10 and a neat 135lbs, with very little meat on him and long legs. His hair is shaggy and black, coming to about half way down his ears. Daniel keeps a short mustache, but over wise keeps his face clean-shaven. He has cool brown eyes, a large nose, and a medium skin tone. Daniel’s skin tans very easily however. On his right hand there he has a large scar across his palm from an accident. His skin is dry and not particularly clean, as Daniel can go days at a time without washing. His right shoulder is slightly higher than his left, but does not affect his ability to ride, and is only noticeable up close. This was probably caused by Daniel being born early, but there's no way to know.
Attire: Daniel usually wears dark, worn jeans and a thick matching shirt, often with a waistcoat over the top. Almost all year round, he keeps the sleeves of these shirts pulled back up his arms to keep cool and will often wear a large wide brimmed hat to keep the sun off his face and neck. Daniel always wears his holster around his hips.
Weaponry: Carries a Cattleman Revolver and keeps a Double-barreled Shotgun on his stagecoach just in case, though he can’t use it very well. It’s more there in case he needs to transport expensive goods for someone and he needs to hire security.
Skills:
History: Daniel’s mother and father met in Mexico when his father stumbled upon his mother’s farm. For a while, they lived and started a family in Mexico, but moved to America when Daniel was about seven in hopes of making more money. Daniel knows Spanish almost fluently, but only speaks it around his mother and her friends, or when giving rides to people who don’t know any English. His first job (not including the years he worked at his family’s farm) was at the livery in Armadillo, where he learned everything he knows about horses. Due to his job involving him moving around a lot, Daniel doesn’t really have a home, and almost exclusively rents rooms at saloons or just rides through the night. Because the money is better, Daniel often sticks around Blackwater and plays poker in his free time.
Family:
(Russell Vega) - (Father. Farmer. He’s getting quite old, and has been in poor health for a while.)
(Lisa Vega) - (Mother. Farmer and part time seamstress. Daniel and her are very close. )
Sample RP post: From previous roleplays:
Surrounded by tiny shot glasses, and a steadily growing pool of his own drool, Nino’s eyes fluttered open. There had been a smashing sound as the bartender had run out of the saloon to open the gate. Nino rubbed his eyes. Alcohol and tiredness were not a good mix. He pulled himself around and up off of a bar stool and headed back out to the open fort. “What’s going on?” He asked, still half asleep. With one hand, he wiped his damp face as he walked over. The cool air had an immediate effect clearing his head, and felt especially good on his sweaty forehead and the back of his neck.
“Dios mío!” Nino instinctively reached for his holstered weapon as he got close enough to see what was going on. Keeping his hand there, he crouched by the clearly dead man and said a little prayer in English, just loud enough for people to hear. Tentatively, he moved a few stray hairs off the dead man’s face and gently closed the man’s eyes. When he was done, he stayed down for a moment, before standing up. “What do we do?” Nino asked, his face flushing a little. While sleeping had cleared some of the effects the alcohol had had on him, Nino feared that his senses would be ruined, should any more trouble come to Fort Mercer.
[[Dios mío = my god]]
---- OR ----
Karim took his phone out of his pocket and flicked through his contacts. Finally arriving at his security contact’s number, he glanced out of the window and clicked ‘call’. A woman answered almost immediately, and there were two options Karim had heard time and time again. If you are in an emergency situation, please press one. For normal circumstances, press two. If you have a query, or a problem with our service, please press the hash key and one of our trained staff will be happy to help you. To hear this message again— blah blah blah. Karim pressed two on the screen, and pressed the phone to his ear as he wandered over to one of the stalls. There was the faint, but not appalling, stink of urine as Karim waited to be put through. “Yes, hi, I need a pick up.” Karim requested. While the man on the other end sorted out the details, Karim looked at the stall walls. Little messages were scrawled all over them. The usual stuff, mostly. For a brief moment, Karim played with the idea of writing his own number there, just to see what would happen.
“A car will be at your location in forty minutes,” the phone said, and Karim thanked them and slid them away into his pocket. He checked himself out in the mirror and then checked the time. A suitable amount had passed since Karim had been caught, and he figured it was enough. Karim headed back out into the club and looked around for his partner with the drink. He didn’t see him around the dance floor, so Karim headed cautiously towards the bar. “Tsk,” Karim shook his head as he spotted him at the bar, sat, checking out another man. Short attention spans, eh? Karim couldn’t help but feel a little insulted.
Speculated Activity levels: I’m going to say a few times a week, to be safe.
Speculated Literacy level: I think my grammar is a little wonky, but yeah pretty good. Average word count elsewhere has been 150-400 words
Characters Name: Daniel Vega
Nicknames?: None
Age: 25 (born 1886)
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Plot Availability: PID
Profession: Stagecoach driver
Rank: N/A
Race: American and Mexican
Physical: Daniel has a thin, wiry body type. He is 5’10 and a neat 135lbs, with very little meat on him and long legs. His hair is shaggy and black, coming to about half way down his ears. Daniel keeps a short mustache, but over wise keeps his face clean-shaven. He has cool brown eyes, a large nose, and a medium skin tone. Daniel’s skin tans very easily however. On his right hand there he has a large scar across his palm from an accident. His skin is dry and not particularly clean, as Daniel can go days at a time without washing. His right shoulder is slightly higher than his left, but does not affect his ability to ride, and is only noticeable up close. This was probably caused by Daniel being born early, but there's no way to know.
Attire: Daniel usually wears dark, worn jeans and a thick matching shirt, often with a waistcoat over the top. Almost all year round, he keeps the sleeves of these shirts pulled back up his arms to keep cool and will often wear a large wide brimmed hat to keep the sun off his face and neck. Daniel always wears his holster around his hips.
Weaponry: Carries a Cattleman Revolver and keeps a Double-barreled Shotgun on his stagecoach just in case, though he can’t use it very well. It’s more there in case he needs to transport expensive goods for someone and he needs to hire security.
Skills:
- WEAPONRY SKILL 2/5
- COMBAT SKILL 2/5
- TRACKING/HUNTING SKILL 2/5
- SURVIVAL SKILLS 3/5
- HORSEMANSHIP 5/5
- INTELLIGENCE CAPABILITIES 4/5
History: Daniel’s mother and father met in Mexico when his father stumbled upon his mother’s farm. For a while, they lived and started a family in Mexico, but moved to America when Daniel was about seven in hopes of making more money. Daniel knows Spanish almost fluently, but only speaks it around his mother and her friends, or when giving rides to people who don’t know any English. His first job (not including the years he worked at his family’s farm) was at the livery in Armadillo, where he learned everything he knows about horses. Due to his job involving him moving around a lot, Daniel doesn’t really have a home, and almost exclusively rents rooms at saloons or just rides through the night. Because the money is better, Daniel often sticks around Blackwater and plays poker in his free time.
Family:
(Russell Vega) - (Father. Farmer. He’s getting quite old, and has been in poor health for a while.)
(Lisa Vega) - (Mother. Farmer and part time seamstress. Daniel and her are very close. )
Sample RP post: From previous roleplays:
Surrounded by tiny shot glasses, and a steadily growing pool of his own drool, Nino’s eyes fluttered open. There had been a smashing sound as the bartender had run out of the saloon to open the gate. Nino rubbed his eyes. Alcohol and tiredness were not a good mix. He pulled himself around and up off of a bar stool and headed back out to the open fort. “What’s going on?” He asked, still half asleep. With one hand, he wiped his damp face as he walked over. The cool air had an immediate effect clearing his head, and felt especially good on his sweaty forehead and the back of his neck.
“Dios mío!” Nino instinctively reached for his holstered weapon as he got close enough to see what was going on. Keeping his hand there, he crouched by the clearly dead man and said a little prayer in English, just loud enough for people to hear. Tentatively, he moved a few stray hairs off the dead man’s face and gently closed the man’s eyes. When he was done, he stayed down for a moment, before standing up. “What do we do?” Nino asked, his face flushing a little. While sleeping had cleared some of the effects the alcohol had had on him, Nino feared that his senses would be ruined, should any more trouble come to Fort Mercer.
[[Dios mío = my god]]
---- OR ----
Karim took his phone out of his pocket and flicked through his contacts. Finally arriving at his security contact’s number, he glanced out of the window and clicked ‘call’. A woman answered almost immediately, and there were two options Karim had heard time and time again. If you are in an emergency situation, please press one. For normal circumstances, press two. If you have a query, or a problem with our service, please press the hash key and one of our trained staff will be happy to help you. To hear this message again— blah blah blah. Karim pressed two on the screen, and pressed the phone to his ear as he wandered over to one of the stalls. There was the faint, but not appalling, stink of urine as Karim waited to be put through. “Yes, hi, I need a pick up.” Karim requested. While the man on the other end sorted out the details, Karim looked at the stall walls. Little messages were scrawled all over them. The usual stuff, mostly. For a brief moment, Karim played with the idea of writing his own number there, just to see what would happen.
“A car will be at your location in forty minutes,” the phone said, and Karim thanked them and slid them away into his pocket. He checked himself out in the mirror and then checked the time. A suitable amount had passed since Karim had been caught, and he figured it was enough. Karim headed back out into the club and looked around for his partner with the drink. He didn’t see him around the dance floor, so Karim headed cautiously towards the bar. “Tsk,” Karim shook his head as he spotted him at the bar, sat, checking out another man. Short attention spans, eh? Karim couldn’t help but feel a little insulted.