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PostPosted: Fri Jan 08, 2016 1:23 am 

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Is there still room in this RP? Cause I'd be down

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I'm writing this story! It's called The Legends of Kal'duune. You can comment about things you like or hate, but preferably the first thing, here!

This thing is my resume! Reeeeaad iiiiiit...


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View Likes PostPosted: Fri Jan 08, 2016 1:30 am 
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Yep! Probably close it up soon, so you're right on time!

Speaking of, we'll probably start soon! I've been distracted lately with stuff, but it's all cleared up now probably


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PostPosted: Fri Jan 08, 2016 1:34 am 

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I had an idea for a more comical guy. He's a really charismatic crazy guy that rides a bike and wears a top hat

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"Who put bacon in the soap?!?!?!" - Zim


I'm writing this story! It's called The Legends of Kal'duune. You can comment about things you like or hate, but preferably the first thing, here!

This thing is my resume! Reeeeaad iiiiiit...


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PostPosted: Thu Feb 11, 2016 12:10 am 
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viewtopic.php?f=17&t=49258

this shitty IC has caused me great amounts of stress and suffering but here it is


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PostPosted: Thu Feb 11, 2016 12:11 am 

eyy, senpai!

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we in there

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PostPosted: Sun Jun 12, 2016 10:37 pm 

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Is this still active, and accepting new players?

If so, is it based on a specific title one should be familiar with, or is it just a general Fallout setting?


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 12:16 am 
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It's not active atm, sadly. But It will return. Eventually? I don't want to say soon, but "not too long from now" sounds good.

And just a general Fallout Setting! I've mostly played the classics and New Vegas, so most stuff will be pulled from there, but if you're only familiar with 3 or 4 that's perfectly fine.


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 12:18 am 

eyy, senpai!

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It'll be a hype-ass return once we get there tho that's for sure

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PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 2:29 am 

You have nothing to fear, But Fear himself

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If this RP is still excepting people id be over joyed to join when it starts up again

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PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 2:47 am 
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Metal Zeta wrote:
It's not active atm, sadly. But It will return. Eventually? I don't want to say soon, but "not too long from now" sounds good.


If only I had said something about when it's start up again. If only....I probably would have said something like "not too long from now". If I did say something about when it was starting up again, that is. That would have been great, me saying that.

(that is to say I dunno when it's starting up again!)


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PostPosted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 7:45 pm 

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Metal Zeta wrote:
Metal Zeta wrote:
It's not active atm, sadly. But It will return. Eventually? I don't want to say soon, but "not too long from now" sounds good.


If only I had said something about when it's start up again. If only....I probably would have said something like "not too long from now". If I did say something about when it was starting up again, that is. That would have been great, me saying that.

(that is to say I dunno when it's starting up again!)




This alternate timeline stuff you're doing is so perplexing and improbable, stop it right now mister.


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View Likes PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2016 9:33 pm 

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Took the liberty of creating three characters for this RP, don't know which one i would use just yet.
If someone has a preference or suggestions i'd listen, otherwise i will deliberate and eliminate two eventually.


Name: Aaron Norde
Age: 25

Gender: Male

APPEARANCE

Aaron is of average height and not very bulky, all things considered.

Has mild scarring from burns over his face,
other scars on several places of his body and a nose whose bridge displays a noticeable mark
from having been broken at least once, but is nevertheless fairly attractive due to his great physique.
During his vault time he had constantly well kept short, dark hair and was clean shaven at all times,
a style he seeks to emulate in the wasteland with some success.
His clothing is accessorized with liberal use of bandages around hands, knees and other vulnerable areas.

His brown eyes would be described by some as cold, steely and piercing.

PERSONALITY

Aaron is single minded and doggedly pursues his goals.
Several former vault comrades have confused his single minded pursuit of physical prowess
with lack of imagination and intelligence, however Aaron is highly intelligent,
albeit sometimes rigid in his thinking.

He speaks plainly and in a simple manner, with simple phrases.
and keeps eventual emotions out of conversation.

Aaron has a tendency to ignore others when a task is to be completed, or to push
someone out of the way when he feels he can do a better job, this frequently generates a lot of friction.

He valued discipline, lawfulness and morals,
ideals he took from his childhood pre-war comic:
Hansaki, Lord of Samurai.
But later in his life was forced to abandon many of his loftier ideals as situations grew more dire.

Owing to his impaired senses and his already respectable
grasp of hand-to-hand combat, he prefers to take down
aggressors with his body.

He has grown accustomed to pain through
frequent injury and can tolerate discomfort.

He is generally withdrawn and evenly tempered.
even when he's enraged his anger is usually controlled,
and directed at its source.

He takes exception to unabashedly malicious individuals and believes it
a moral imperative to end these people's lives.

Prefers to steer clear of ghouls, and assumes that
anything mercifully ending their tortured existence
is probably the best for them.
Although he's loathe to attack them himself, unprovoked.

He's either very successful or very unsuccessful with the ladies, with his characteristic
straight, no-nonsense style of approach. which, when it works is the subject
of much praise from any man nearby.

Aaron rarely reflects profoundly on his seemingly unnatural misfortune,
suffering accidents and seeing others spectacularly injuring themselves
is a mundane part of existence for him. However, at times when his long term goals run out,
or seem utterly unobtainable, Aaron is given to deep, tear filled despair.


HISTORY

Aaron grew up in a vault.

As a child Aaron frequently had to make trips to the doctor. even before entering puberty,
he had broken his collar bone, left leg, almost suffocated on a small object twice,
suffered food poisoning, and a fever that nearly claimed his life.

Things culminated when at the age of 17 the now prospective engineer was tasked
with repairing a piece of machinery which overloaded, exploded, and sent the young man flying backwards,
and beheaded a fellow senior mechanic with an errant piece of metal.

Aaron spent a week in a comatose state and the accident left his sight blurry and his hearing impaired.

Having lost much of the knowledge critical to a career in engineering due to his accident,
Aaron decided to spend his time with the punching bag after his time as hospitalized.
His newly developed rapport with the vault's doctor would come in handy following his many sprained ankles,
broken limbs and other injuries, and with books and charts and even stimpacks provided by the
friendly doctor he learnt more and more to treat any injuries he sustained by himself in his training room.

Vault leaders eventually took note of his impressive physical abilities and he was given a position
enforcing law and good behaviour. Aaron's career in security was short but spectacular.
He sustained several severe and near fatal injuries, and many of the conflicts he engaged in
ended in all manners of spectacular tragedies for his opponents.
Some less reputable vault dwellers were preemptively discouraged from crime
by the shocking fates of their comrades.

At the age of 24 the more influential inhabitants of the vault had finally had enough of
what some had come to refer to as his "infectious misfortune".
Aaron was told that the vault needed a Mirage generator Mk 3
and was sent out onto the surface to procure one wherever it might be found.

It has been a year of wandering, and searching, and Aaron is beginning to seriously doubt
the existence of afformentioned Mirage generator.


SKILLS


S.P.E.C.I.A.L

Strength 7
Perception 3
Endurance 7
Charisma 4
Intelligence 7
Agility 8
Luck 1 "at least i'm not a ghoul..."



UNARMED
Aaron has trained in martial arts for many years, some whispered that his obsession was due to
some emotional difficulties, others commented on the unnecessary nature of keeping
yourself in such shape in a thoroughly monitored, sealed vault.
Few voiced their concerns more than passingly to Aaron himself.
His physical prowess alone ensures that he can handle melee weapons,
although he has marginal training in their use beyond the principals that carry over from
unarmed training he is still effective with them.

FIRST AID
Aaron has probably popped his left arm back into its socket more times than a
wasteland dweller has had hot iguana on a stick dinners.
he has stabilized broken limbs after slipping, and disinfected wounds after stepping on nails,
all considered, Aaron should be a cripple, or rather, Aaron should be dead, but maybe he is simply too unlucky.

SNEAKING
his agility helps him move quickly and quietly, he can frequently approach
a potential threat and disable it before he is detected.


EQUIPMENT:
big bag-o'-medical supplies, stimulants, bandages, drugs, etc.
worn, rugged denim pants
green shirt
dark brown leather jacket
water canteen
scalpel
the "instant cauterizer 3000"



Name: Garry Zeltzych
Age: 29

Gender: Male

APPEARANCE

Garry towers over most folks, being just over two meters tall.
He is broad and quite obese (how such a thing is even possible in the wasteland one can only speculate)

His chin melds seamlessly into his neck, his beady, staring dark eyes seem somehow more dog-like than human,
his mouth frequently half open as his vacant-looking gaze sweeps over a new environment.
He is not terribly strong or resilient for his size, but is nevertheless stronger and tougher
than a man of average proportions.

Even going without shaving for months his facial hair
never seems to wanna grow wilder than some sparse, dark,
shorts strands on his chin and jawline.

His fair skin is reddish from the excessive exposure to the sun.

His short hair is unkempt and sandy in color, and protrudes from his head like a tuft of dry grass.

His nose is disproportionately sized, like a small nub sitting far above his lips and closer to his eyes.

As clothing he wears a very humble ensemble of dungarees,
and a dirty, brown, checkered shirt (as if he had much choice)

HISTORY

Something went wrong during Garry's conception,
some knot in a double helix perhaps, or one of a thousand of the wasteland's ever present
contaminants doing its terrible work. Whatever it was did a number on the contents of Garry's noggin.
In an alternate dreamland, where the world was never fried and ruined like an unappetizing meal,
Garry would have been called a person of special needs, so Garry's mother would sometimes say
and slowly shake her head. But in reality, the real reality,
he is more often referred to as an "idiot".
Or sometimes, in the interest of variety: "dat idjit".

Garry grew up on one of the many farms in the land,
life was relatively peaceful, uneventful for long stretches, tending brahmin, nurturing crops.

When Garry grew older, his father, fearing his son would one day need to face the harsh outside world
and figuring he would need all the edge he could get, placed him under the tutelage
of a local well known outlaw, who taught him how to take what did not belong to him,
without being caught and shot.

Not long ago much as he had predicted, realizing that their humble farm would not support the three of
them for much longer, his father made an arrangement with a neighbour and good friend for
Garry to accompany the man's family as they made the trek southwest towards the nearest town,
where they were to settle down.

The travelers were waylaid by raiders as Garry was off gathering dead branches for a fire and
he came back to find the men and the brahmin murdered and the women absent,
presumably taken as prizes to some raider camp.

Confused and appaled Garry shot the last raider straggler dead
as he was rummaging for something the others might have missed.

Not remembering the way back home, his only option was to continue onwards towards town,
whose faint lights could just be made out beyond the desolate steppes.

PERSONALITY

Garry is a polite man, remembering the lessons his parents imparted on him about how to
make friends in the wasteland, He is thorough with etiquette, saying "thank you, ma'am"
and "good day, mister" and preferring not to swear even when badly frustrated,
instead using exclamations like: "frick!", "drat!" or "dangit!"

His mind is weak, so much that it is plain for most to see with little more than a glimpse.
He does however possess a nigh superhuman attention to details, and awareness of the whereabouts
of people and objects in his surroundings.

He mostly does not care for violence and is a rather docile person, he does not fully
comprehend terrible violence when he witnesses it, and is therefore shielded from most of its traumatizing effects.

He likes alcohol, feeling like people are more open-minded and likes him more
when he's in a bar, drinking. It also makes most things seem funnier.

He finds himself curious about certain items, especially shiny and strange looking ones,
which in the past has led him to theft, although he generally only takes what he feels he needs from people.

He prefers to speak to children whenever possible, at least the ones who find him funny rather than scary,
as they are straightforward and much more truthful than adults.

He also likes brahmin, for their dependability, and because they remind him of home.

SKILLS

PICK POCKETS
SMALL GUNS
SPEECH


S.P.E.C.I.A.L
Strength 6
Perception 9
Endurance 6
Charisma 4
Intelligence 2
Agility 4
Luck 5

Although being far from eloquent, he has a way of disarming and placating people through his speech,
presumably through combination of childlike demeanor and courtesy.

He is hardly a gunslinger, but has through target practice on varmints, and mentorship by
his father developed adequate aim with a hunting rifle.

His sausage fingers are surprisingly dextrous and he possesses rather impressive sleight of hand skills.
he can frequently get away with things out of people's pockets or other containers,
and his distractions and innately naive demeanor leaves his victims profoundly confused.


EQUIPMENT
clothes, see above
hunting rifle
water canteen
binoculars
a shiny pre-war coin



Name: Sir Finklejock the IIIrd
Age: ???

Gender: N/A

APPEARANCE

Finklejock's "face" is a non-moving death mask rendition of a caricaturesque english butler.
frozen in a content smile, eyes shut, as if vividly remembering the smell of freshly baked scones
on a table in a fragrant rose garden.

Whatever artisan sculpted him into existence in whatever remote place and era has his painstaking work
on display in Finklejock's metallic moustache, classic coiffure, bowtie and formal evening dress.
all integrated parts of the automaton's chassis.

Completing the look is an optical lens on the left side of his cold visage in the guise of a monocle.

Finklejock's body might have had a bright sheen once, but dust, scratches,
and the ravages of weather must have taken it away.

HISTORY

Sir Finklejock is a mysterious individual, one can safely surmise that there are few indeed
who know anything about his origins, and one might also assume that they are no longer with the living.

He himself certainly seems like the least reliable source when it comes to his own history.
and when asked by whatever nosy wastedweller will insist that he is a valued butler
and custodian of the resplendent castle Opodeldoc.

That his travels have not yet ended in a box for spare parts in some raider's shed
is in itself quite mysterious and miraculous.

PERSONALITY

He speaks with the posh upper class english accent
similar to that of a common Mr handy unit,
but would probably not appreciate the comparison.

Always the gentleman, Sir Finklejock observes the strictest of social grace and etiquette
and is loathe to stoop to threats or invectives, instead opting to shoot troublesome persons through the head.

He is non confrontational, doesn't lose his temper, if he even has one,
and meets even terrible odds with cheer and stiff upper lip.

He would offer people tea and biscuits, but as these things prove scarce indeed he usually
resorts to occupy himself with other activities such as restoring the odd chair to an upright stance,
or neatly lining up bottles of nondescript alcohol.

SKILLS

SMALL GUNS
SPEECH
SURVIVAL


Finkle's unerring optical sensors and adamant arm grants him a proficiency in guns that rivals
that of an experienced mercenary. weapons other than a handgun or a good ole hunting rifle
seem to perplex his analytical subroutines however.

His respectful and courteous way of approaching strangers has helped him in many a situation.
He's still a cold, hard robot though, which limits his charismatic impressions.

He has extensive knowledge in botany and gardening, aswell as minor knowledge of zoology,
from his (real or imagined) socialite hunting trips.

He has no knowledge regarding computers
dismissing them as "blasted newfangled contraptions"

"Fisticuffs" is something he rarely engages in, his coordination leaves plenty to be desired,
but a connecting blow is likely to stagger or incapacitate a man.

His practical medical skills are next to none.
Extending to:
"Nasty scrape, Madame should apply pressure to that"
"Sir may want to apply a fresh bandage, lest the wound festers"
or prescribing a healthy dose of ether.

Sneaking... well, let's not mention it.


S.P.E.C.I.A.L

Strength 8
Perception 8
Endurance 8
Charisma 5
Intelligence 4
Agility 1
Luck 5

Strong enough to snap an average man's wrist in his grip.

His metal body reflects most small arms fire, claws and light melee weapons, but is conspicuously
worse for wear nowadays, and without the hands of a competent mechanic it is only
a matter of time before an errant projectile slips through and hits something critical.
given a couple of years it will surely terminally deteriorate on its own volition as the good sir
seems to have no real knowledge of even how to mend his own body or much self-preserving
interest in it for that matter.

All the bullets and assaults by blunt objects has left his chassis with numerous buckles,
scorch marks and a few holes although he still looks quite presentable from certain angles.
he himself would blame his appearance (and imagined "bad knees") on his advanced age.

The sir's physical capabilities do not extent to his agility.
With his rather stiff robotic limbs he is hardly able to accelerate to more than a brisk jog in human terms,
and is highly unlikely to negotiate a wooden fence via jumping or climbing without toppling
over with a terrible racket as a result.

The few normal faculties he possesses are astute. but anyone accompanying him for more than
a brief period will notice that something about his thought patterns is very off,
as he seems to inhabit a world much different than that of humans of sound mind around him.
possibly it is due to the natural decay of the delicate parts of his artificial mind,
possibly the effect of any one of a hundred blows and bullets previously directed at him,
possibly bad handiwork, or more disturbingly: possibly he is functioning just as intended.


EQUIPMENT
A colt handgun and some ammo
An exquisitely engraved silver spoon.
A broken teacup ornamented with pink flowers.
A decent collection of caps


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PostPosted: Sat Jun 18, 2016 12:05 am 

eyy, senpai!

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I like 'em, Garry and Fink in particular.

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PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2016 2:52 am 

Current wetness: 9% Current uselessness: 55%

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One day this RP will rise from the dead.

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PostPosted: Thu Aug 25, 2016 3:28 pm 

eyy, senpai!

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never give up

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