Redshaw
String
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2017
- Messages
- 6
- Nebulae
- 9
Steam erupted up from the train platform as the rusted sliding doors clanged open. Neon lights bathed the dark, trash-littered streets and greeted the new arrival with their dim, foreboding welcome that said in so many words: 'welcome to City 17, the city that never sleeps for it is a waking nightmare.'
Among the downtrodden passengers finally released from an overly long ride comes a man from a far away country. His bags long-since confiscated, he owned nothing save the threads on his back, the chip on his shoulder, and an outlandish, unintelligible accent that was his pride and joy.
A toothpick caught in the corner of his mouth, the broad man stepped off the train and looked up, absorbing the first sight of his new home.
The man looked like he was carved out of wood. He might have been handsome once, but that was decades ago, before the sunken eyes and crooked nose. The mosaic of calluses, tattoos, and scars that ran across his body told the story of previous lives spent in hard labor, both with the military and within prison walls, hardened well before the 7 hour war. He was shorter by a foot than most men, but he had broad shoulders and was built like a fire hydrant. He would have made good meat for the Civil Protection force, if he weren't so long in the tooth; his back was weak from a misspent youth and his knees weren't what they used to be. Despite his apparent age, well into his late forties, his moss green eyes retained a clever and focused gleam to them. His hair would be grey if he didn't keep it shaved close to his head and his scarred face was covered in a scrappy beard.
The toothpick was spat onto the pavement and a leery, lupine grin split his features in half. "Chesus, Mary 'n' Choseph, wha' a crrrap 'eap. Rroigh'. Le's see if dis man cannae make some propah dosh outta you ye', eh? Troy me wot y'loike, Se'enteen, Chack Rredshawr's ready fer ye."
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Howdy Nebulous!
Name's Redshaw and I've been involved in RP of all formats for well over ten years, though I am incredibly new to using Garry's Mod. Looking forward to perusing, skulking, plotting, and avoiding civil protection with the rest of you all. Jack's a survivor planning to make his own way; he fights dirty, bends the rules, but is careful not to cross the line when out in plain view. I'm an intelligent, respectful player and am very friendly person OOCly, though please don't take it personally if my character doesn't share in that same loquaciousness; he's a touch rough around the edges. You may find him charming, you may find him offensive, but most of all you'll find him infuriatingly difficult to understand through that awful accent. Thanks for having me!
- Red
Among the downtrodden passengers finally released from an overly long ride comes a man from a far away country. His bags long-since confiscated, he owned nothing save the threads on his back, the chip on his shoulder, and an outlandish, unintelligible accent that was his pride and joy.
A toothpick caught in the corner of his mouth, the broad man stepped off the train and looked up, absorbing the first sight of his new home.
The man looked like he was carved out of wood. He might have been handsome once, but that was decades ago, before the sunken eyes and crooked nose. The mosaic of calluses, tattoos, and scars that ran across his body told the story of previous lives spent in hard labor, both with the military and within prison walls, hardened well before the 7 hour war. He was shorter by a foot than most men, but he had broad shoulders and was built like a fire hydrant. He would have made good meat for the Civil Protection force, if he weren't so long in the tooth; his back was weak from a misspent youth and his knees weren't what they used to be. Despite his apparent age, well into his late forties, his moss green eyes retained a clever and focused gleam to them. His hair would be grey if he didn't keep it shaved close to his head and his scarred face was covered in a scrappy beard.
The toothpick was spat onto the pavement and a leery, lupine grin split his features in half. "Chesus, Mary 'n' Choseph, wha' a crrrap 'eap. Rroigh'. Le's see if dis man cannae make some propah dosh outta you ye', eh? Troy me wot y'loike, Se'enteen, Chack Rredshawr's ready fer ye."
************************
Howdy Nebulous!
Name's Redshaw and I've been involved in RP of all formats for well over ten years, though I am incredibly new to using Garry's Mod. Looking forward to perusing, skulking, plotting, and avoiding civil protection with the rest of you all. Jack's a survivor planning to make his own way; he fights dirty, bends the rules, but is careful not to cross the line when out in plain view. I'm an intelligent, respectful player and am very friendly person OOCly, though please don't take it personally if my character doesn't share in that same loquaciousness; he's a touch rough around the edges. You may find him charming, you may find him offensive, but most of all you'll find him infuriatingly difficult to understand through that awful accent. Thanks for having me!
- Red
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