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Character discussions?

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Piemanlives:
There isn't much solid lore besides the factions, we have a map somewhere and there are only a few notable people that we know of IE: Sir Issac Phillips. So lore wise you should be fine.

Insanegorey:
In a water closet far, far away...

*flush*
"Ah. Haven't had a good poop like that in a while. Like a good, solid poop. Do crackers and corn have anything to do with that, ye think?"
A grumble from the short man who stands outside the water closet, with a distance between him and the toilets foul smell.
"Well, she's all yours now, Grum."
Another grumble, and the short man walked into the water closet. A groan of disgust came from the short mans lips as the door closed.
The small shack with the words "water closet" written on a small wooden sign stood out there in the desert, as these two men waited for their bowels to empty.
Then, a small dog started to run out of the whipping wind, towards the water closet.
"Grum?"
"What is it now, Louis?"
"There's a dog. Coming over here."
"And?"
"Well, Grum, I want you to take care of it for me."
"No."
"I'm sorry? No who?"
"No, sir."
"Figured."
Louis put his arms up and stretched. His long overcoat stretched down, and had rips in it left from his previous dogs. He always had a habit of taking a liking to dogs that bite, because he said that it meant they had moxy, or some other bollocks. The overcoat used to belong to an admiral, or someone who thought he was an admiral. You see, the previous owner was an absolute loony, who called himself "Admiral Mister" and would march around the streets drunk in this overcoat with it's carefully adorned buttons in gold, and it's dark blue cloth bringing the pins on the breast pocket out. But when the drunk admiral had it, the buttons were falling off, and the color turned into a dried out gray. The rips in the coat were smaller back then, thought Louis. How he missed his uncle.
The coat was in even more disrepair, with only one gold button hanging on, and a permanent smell of vomit and cheap liquor. What a lovely coat it was though, with its deep pockets and...
Actually this coat was awful, thought Louis.
Perhaps he needed to see a tailor...
*flush*
"Jesus, finally! I thought you had died in there!"
The door opened, and the short man looked up at Louis and scowled.
The short man walked away from the toilet, and Louis walked behind him.
Then, a scream tore through the air, and the short man fell down and clutched his leg in agony.
Louis calmly pulled out his revolver, another gift from his uncle, and briskly strolled towards where the shot came from. Another shot went out, hitting the short man again.
Then, two shapes appeared on the horizon and started to run.
Hah, you won't incapacitate another crew member of mine!
He pulled up his revolver, and pulled back the hammer.
Click.
Confused, then angry, Louis tilted the gun sideways, realizing that he forgot to buy bullets for the gun, seeing as they were dam expensive.
Ah well, what's good for the scavengers is good for society, he guessed.
He turned back around, and a ladder slowly descended.
"About god damned time, you filthy plebeian!"
The ladder remained there, and the short man slowly ascended the ladder.
"We are going to be late, but hey, that's our motto, right Grum?"
Another grumble.
"Well, hopefully this time I don't get bite by Charles dog."

RedRoach:
I like this here post a lot. It's a short post, but Ulysses you've made me laugh quite a bit. Haven't seen many other stories that made me chuckle like this.

RedRoach:
Had a thought since I created my original character about a friend for him, here is the story I made up about him.


In a bar in a small town, a young man is laughing away the night with several other, somewhat armed men all with grins on their faces.

RedRoach: "...and then, the bomb went off, but instead of fire, it was just water! The entire crew got doused in a combination of grease and water! Ha!"
Thug 1 "Ah, man, this is the best guy to pass through in a loong while. We should just make him pay less instead."
RedRoach "What? For my drinks and amazing jokes?"
Thug 2: "No, whenever people pass through here, they pay up. Consider it a mandatory pay toll."
RedRoach: "That's horseshit!"

Suddenly, every single one of the men surrounding him rises and draws their weapons, from a standard scrapped-up rifle to a rusty pistol, outnumbering RedRoach by 5.

Thug 1: "You got any last words to help 'improve' our services?"
RedRoach: "Well... make sure you watch out for the devil who follows me. You believe in the devil right?" *With cold stares a quick assumption is made.* "Okay then, I guess I should tell you then. I know someone who could kill you with a BB gun."

A ridiculous amount of laughter takes over the bar, and although many of the gunmen around the table waver their aim, there was never a point where no gun directly pointed at him, so escape during the hilarity wasn't an option.

Thug 3: "That's the best joke you've told so far. I've stayed here for several months, and nobody simply messes with the Greased Light Gang.
RedRoach: "That's the best joke YOU'VE told so far. I can't even believe someone comes up with those crappy gang names anymore."
Thug 2: "HEY!"
RedRoach: "Anyway, this guy is one of the deadliest things on the planet, I can't even tell you if there IS a deadlier thing on the planet. Besides Sandstorms. Flak those things."
Thug 3: "Get to the damn point!"

---------Several months back in a port city of which shall not be named for safety reasons--------

A young adult, strikingly similar to the one who would get into a bar scrap in the future, admires his handiwork of sprayed paint on a squid that isn't his.

RedRoach: "Man, this is going to be great! Compressed air and light amounts of liquid paint do wonders. The crew are gonna get sooooo pissed when they see this-"

Suddenly, while backing up from the airship, he bumps into a person and what feels like a snub nosed revolver.

??: "And who exactly will be 'pissed' when this vehicle is spotted?"

Quickly whirling around, Red notices that the person is oddly dressed to be a person here: White business suit, white bowler hat, red tie, rather flat, calm and non-sarcastic tone, a blank face, and a rather short barreled revolver.

RedRoach: "Um... the owner of the squid...?"
??:  "And who exactly is the owner of the squid?"
RedRoach: "...flak."
??: "Excuse me?"
RedRoach: "It's you isn't it... you're the owner right?"
??: "I would happen to be so. And you are indeed correct that I am 'pissed'."
RedRoach: "Wait, give me just 5 minutes, I can clean this up, alright Mr. Business man?"
??: *more menancing tone* "If I didn't have something that a bullet would be needed for more than you, you'd be in the ground now. You have until I return. Try to escape and your death will be prolonged."
RedRoach: *Exaggerated bow* "Yes good sir." *a long, motionless and reaction-less pause* "Oooooor you could leave right now...." *Cotinuation of pause* "Fine, I'll start on it."

As RedRoach quit acting retarded and walked back towards the "decorated" ship, he quickly shoved a hand into his pocket and pointed the thing inside of it towards the man and pulled a trigger. The man holstered his weapon, turned a corner and walked away. A muttered word, and Red went back to making himself NOT on the man's hit list.

*Proceed 5 minute montage of a rag and a bottle of water somewhat cleaning up a squid"

After everything was no longer painted pink, purple and several hues of green, the scavenger turned hostage engineer backed off. The ship finally looked like a normal, turd-brown squid. He slipped out a small red piece of glass from his pocket, and held it up to his eye. True to pre-dust descriptions, he saw marks on the ground exactly where the man was once threatening him from, and marks where he went. Jumping off the docks and into the stone path, he raced after the man to see where he had gone. The scavenger had made it to a small warehouse a reasonable distance from anywhere a humane person would live. Putting away the glass, he listened for any sign of the stranger with a fashion sense.

Pirate 1: "You said you already delivered the weapons. You are the worst liar I have seen."
?? : "I want to see the price, before I complete the trade."
Pirate 1: "And I flakkin' said, that I wanna see those damned weapons!"
Pirate 2: "There's someone trying to be a real sneaky dumbass here. I think I know who it is."
Pirate 1: "Oh really? Bring him in."

Out of the blue, 3 men with unusually heavy rifles for the working class ambushed RedRoach, and shoved him straight through the front door, catching everyone's attention, including Mr. Business Man.

RedRoach: *in foriegn accent* "Hello? Housekeeping? I finished cleaning ship, may I have leave?"
Pirate 3: *Ignoring idiot* "This guy is probably working with him, just in case he even needed another body shield."
?? : "I have no recollection of this person, and I do not care if you execute him. I require the price."
Pirate 1: "Don't pull some stupid shit on me! I AM THE LEADER OF A FLEET WHO COULD BURN YOUR SKIMPY SQUID TO THE GROUND!!!!"
?? : "Good thing then that I am not on a squid."

Suddenly, the well-dressed man whips out his revolver, and begins firing it into the warehouse and at the pirates, quickly dropping them. Taking advantage of the situation, Red pulls out a heavy pistol/revolver one-of-a-kind hybrid and fires it through both of his captor's heads, rolling between the 3rd and final man legs and eliminating him, before sheathing his revolver again. Quickly scooting from box to box towards the one man army vs. army gunfight, he manages to get to the white-clothed man as he takes cover.

RedRoach : "Quick, how many are left?"
?? : "I do not remember requesting your interruption!"
RedRoach : "I'm here now aren't I? I took out three, how many are left?"
?? : "There is only two left hiding in the far back." *pops out of cover to take 3 more shots and down another man* "Now there is only one."
RedRoach : "Whaat? He said he had a fleet, a fleet can't be just 2 ships piloted by 6 damn people!
?? : "He did. There used to be 16 men in the warehouse."
RedRoach : *in half-sarcastic, half-earnest awe* "Sooo... I'm going to assume from the gunplay that you are clearly infering to me that you're an assassin?"
?? : "My target is at a distance, and the range will simply make things last longer."

Thinking for a while on which side to take, the scavenger decides to take the side of the business assassin since, well... he's a flakking assassin dammit, and grabs one of the rifles lying on the ground. Taking memories from older battles and modification mishaps and victories in account, he quickly slides out the barrel and replaces it with a longer than normal weapon, a new scope, a muzzle for more accurate rifles, and snaps it into a semi-automatic mode. Chambering the rifle, he slides it to the whitey gunman, who merely glances at it.

?? : "I do not need to use a sloppy automatic rifle in order to take out my target."
RedRoach: "HEY! First off, there's such a thing as 'Regulating your fire in bursts', so don't give me that sloppy auto crap. Second off, it's a modified, hi-power semi-automatic sniper rifle with a 6x scope capable to hitting a target at 700m. Happy douchebag? That 'Clean' enough for you?"

The assassin reluctantly picks up the rifle, and (because Red did not show that he chambered the rifle like an IDIOT) chambers another round, wasting one and leaving a nasty glare pointed at RedRoach's direction. Lifting the rifle and leaving cover, he sights in the area where the final pirate is hiding, and just as the man gets up for a shot, he falls with a smooth headshot through his fore-head. The assassin carries the rifle towards the dead body, followed somewhat reluctantly by the scavenger until he reaches his "target". Almost with no sentiment to a heavily modifed rifle, he tosses it to the ground and crouches next to the dead pirate.

RedRoach: "Soooo.... I helped you?"
?? : *whips out revolver in RedRoach's direction, while still inspecting body* "Try anything and you're dead.'
RedRoach: "Whaaat? This is what I get? Man, I should be less charitable to people who kill people next time."
??: *Takes a small key from the dead pirate's pocket* "Do not forget, you interrupted my work, as well as ruined my ship."
RedRoach: "Heeeeyy, you were planning to kill him anyway, right? The ship's even clean now, and for flak's sake I made you a damn sniper rifle!"
??: *Rises and turns towards Red* "I didn't need the sniper rifle."
RedRoach: "But you used it! So therefore, it was still an ASSET! Come on, please tell me you understand business terms, right?"

An uncomfortable silence passes. Then, the man holsters his revolver.

??: "Your ability to modify a weapon is impressive for an idiot."
RedRoach: "Hey, trust me, being an idiot is why everything I do is impressive. One more thing though. You're an assassin, right?" *another uncomfortable silence, another quick conclusion* "If I require your... services, can I request for you?"
?? : *For the first time, a sign of emotion slides across his face. It is one of sarcasm.* "What could an idiot like you pay me for?"
RedRoach: "A customer is a customer dammit!" *More silence, more conclusions.* "If I have to call you, you need a name. Is there something people you? Something that I can call you?"
?? : *a pause.* "Some people call me a devil. Some people call me a maniac, others a man-killer who is unstoppable."
RedRoach: *yawn* "NOT HELPING. Lots of people call others that. What do you call yourself?"
?? : "I call myself clean. An assassin can not afford to be sloppy."
RedRoach: "Perfect! I'll just call you 'Clean' and that'll be your alias from now on! Deal? Deal!"
'Clean' : "How do you even-"

Before the newly dubbed Mr. 'Clean' can respond, the scavenger has rushed out of the doors and into the reasonably dark city as the sun begins to rise. He shakes his head, and begins to leave. As he exits through the door, his attention is caught by something on the door. A piece of parchment, with writing on it.

---------Back to the Future...----------

RedRoach: "...and that is how Clean and I became great friends!"
Thug 1: "That's not a real story."
RedRoach: "Hey! Mr. Clean IS REAL! And fine, we're not friends, but he's still deadly!"
Thug 3: "You're a liar. No man could do that, even if it is a real gun. And a BB gun can't kill a person, only sting one!"
?? : "That's what you think."

Suddenly, the door to the bar opens, and a man in a white suit, red tie, white bowler hat walks calmly inside, carrying a BB gun.

RedRoach: "There he is! Hey, Clean, this group of individuals didn't believe you were real!"
Thug 2 "Flak! Quick, cover! Put the gun to his head, put the gun to his head!"
RedRoach: *shoved down at gun point* "Hey- Ow- Don't do that- Dammit not  the jacket- ow"
Clean : "Now who exactly ordered the BB gun?"
Thug 3 *steps forward with pistol drawn* "That would be me. And there is no way in damn hell you can get through my bullet-proof vest made for a 9mm gun, not some tiny air-pumped-"

'Clean' lifts his rifle and fires it directly at the person's head, in a very particular place. The eye. The man screams and falls down to the ground, and lifts his head to get a shot at the white-cloth assassin just in time to get another pellet in another eye. Blinded and in pain, the man crumples to the ground. Slowly walking to the man, 'Clean' takes his rifle and clubs the butt of the BB straight into his skull. The surrounding gun-men back off, while everyone else who has absolutely no clue what the hell has been going on the entire time quickly file out the door.

Clean : "Death has been delievered."
Thug 2: "We will shoot him! WE WILL! You just- just back off now..."
Clean : "If he did tell you the story, then clearly you now he's already managed to figure out how to be free."
Thug 2: "What do you-"
RedRoach: "BANG BANG BITCH!"

Near instantly, RedRoach pulls out the same heavy pistol/revolver hybrid and empties out a round directly into his captor's face, and swivels behind Clean, aiming his weapon at the three remaining thugs, who are quite literally shaking in their boots.

Thug 1: "Get back! We've got more firepower and more people on our side!"
Clean : *calmly pulling out his revolver* "You have until the count of 5 to live to see another day."
RedRoach: *laughs* "Why the hell should I bother, I don't even have to waste some rounds on all of you."

As Red holsters his weapon, he looks around for the drink he had before the shootout. At the table, he finds a cup of water (H2O is important kids, even in a dusty world) and lifts it to his lips. The sound of his acquaintance counting down doesn't even register, and surprisingly, nor do the three quick shots from his revolver, and the noise of bodies hitting the ground. As he places down his cup, he turns around to his assassin saviour.

Clean : "Your beacon idea actually worked. I got the ping from the device you left on the squid.
RedRoach: "Yeah, DUH. Most of the things I make work. If they don't, well.. they go boom boom, but nobody ever notices stuff like that under a table. Like gum!"
Clean : "Where is the reward you promised?"
RedRoach: "Yeah, yeah, wait a second..." *pulls out a small sack of coins, probably worth about as much as one magazine for a pistol.*
Clean : *Unsatisfied pause & glare* "This is not worth coming here."
RedRoach: "No, that's the price for your services. Your reward for helping me is this." *slides out a piece of paper that is slightly singed, and has stains of unknown origin on it* "I heard you wanted some ways into that Chaladonian manor, so I went dumpster diving."
Clean : *analyzing page* "You believe they will not expect that method of entry?"
RedRoach: "Oh come on, who the hell would suspect a fountain while it's STILL spouting water? And besides, the target takes long walks right past that thing about 6 times, but around 3 of those passes on average aren't with guards!"
Clean : *slides page in suit sleeve* "This will come of some use."
RedRoach: "See? It's an asset. Which means, I'm one damn useful idiot."

Another, rare expression flickers across the assassin's face, one of laughter, but only in the form of a smirk that lasts shorter than a spire without guns. The man takes the paper and slides it into his sleeve, and turns out the door, leaving the scavenger and the pile of bodies in the now deserted bar. A long uncomfortable moment passes. Suddenly, the barkeep pops out from under the bar, while RedRoach was still standing near the bodies.

Barkeep : "Everyone okay?"
RedRoach: "Ah! GOD DAMMIT MAN DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"

Jamini:
The tall, swathy woman stared at the man who had approached her. Long of limb and limber, she possessed a wiry grace that seemed out of place in the revelry of the catina. Her expression was masked behind a pair of tinted aviator's glasses, and her clothing was of simple cut, with no trailing strings or frills that would get caught in an engine or gun mechanism. Slung across her hip was a thick toolbelt, half a dozen tools within easy reach of her hands. Even her hair was neat and orderly, contained within an unadored hairclasp.

Her hands moved as she spoke, indicating a tall, slender man in Arashi dress with a vivid pink mowhawk who was tipping back a second glass of hellfire at the bar.

"That's me gunner, he is. Our last name was Thane, but when had to change it when we moved to Albys. Half our crews don't know this. Go blabbing and it'll be a short trip down a long drop for yah."

Her accent was thick, Welsh, a syntax that had long ago been lost except in the depths of the Baronies. Her limber frame was tense as she stared the stranger down. She looked ready to launch to her feet and throttle the man, or scale the nearby ladder and leap from the catina. Between her hands her drink had hardly been touched. As she spoke, she moved her hands, giving motion to the words.

"It's me story you want? Lord, there isn't anything real interesting about us. The lot of us come from the baronies, we do. Bunch of peasents who got sick of the lords and ladies and their airs. Grabbed an uncrewed goldfish, we did, and made for the south border all quicklike. It wasn't easy or safe for any of us. I had to jury-rig her engines more times than I care to count, and Ika drew a bead on at least half a dozen ships that were after us in the end. We was lucky, and smart, half of them didn't think to look down low, and 'Werty weaved us through the craigs and clefts like he was born to fly. Only one of 'em got a good spot before we popped their balloon and legged it as fast as we could."

A flash of teeth, a rare pearly white visible underneath her darkened complexion. The teeth of a woman who rarely drank, who took quite seriously her position. It was the wistful, happy smile of memories long savored.

"When I got 'ere the ship was a mess, and we was all tired as hell. We had to the authorities, we did. False names, no ID. All three of us spent a good week in the slammer while the Guild tried to work out who the hell had landed on their doorstop. The captains who chased us managed to catch up and told the half of our story we left out. It shocked them as much as it it did me when they turned around and told us we could fly out in the morning under guild colors. I guess the officials liked hearing about us giving the gaudy nobles slip after slip, they offered me a contract for a merc company the next day. Snubbing their nose at the Baronies over some trade deal gone sour, no doubt."

She tilted her head down, obviously trying to read the man's face. Her eyes were brown, with just the barest hint of a hazelnut green threading her iris. Her every sense seemed focused on reading the reaction of the man before her. At her side a second tall, willowy female trader clapsed her shoulder. The second woman's face was obscured by a bird mask, which scanned the crowd constantly while her commander spoke with the client. The bird-woman's head only paused once, when a second pilot crossed the room and clapped Ika on the back. A pair of loud shots momentarily drowned out the hubbub in the room as the Gunner grabbed his companion by the shoulder, sat him down, and let loose a roaring laugh.

"So now I'm here, and me company has grown from one ship to four. We reeled in the 'Bloody End' and captain Tallios from a brawl in a place like this, and Miss Vera seized her junker 'In the Trunk' on our third job after we downed it and sent the crew packing. Just recently I even bought myself a nice little guild ship of my own, 'Depth Changes' is a good platform to look out and spot those nasty little pirate pyras when they come in to tackle our clients. She blends in nicely with the mercent ships, and most raiders don't expect her to launch a barrage of missiles or start spewing flames from her lower guns. Of course, part of the trick is not getting tackled myself, but so far Werty's fish has been there when I needed it. 'Waiting for captain' is a doll when it comes down to a proper air brawl, and I ain't afeard to slam another ship if they look at me funny."

The woman grinned, leaning forward on her chair and setting her shoulders as she extended her hand.

"I aint gonna lie to you. If you want us on, I'm gonna make you pull weight too. We're mercs and guards out in the wastes. We 'ave no backup, and each man's fuckup is his own. If you can't man up for your own mistakes, you've got no place on my crew. If you can't man up for the mistakes of your crew, you've got no place in my company. If you can't man up for the mistakes of your fleet, I'll have no business with you."

"Now that that's settled, let's talk about compensation. Name's Jami, and we'll get you to your next port safe."

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