Too Much...

Joeyray's Bar
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Name: Wilson
Age: 19
Race: zerg
Sub Species (if one): swarm host (oh YES I went there!)
Skin Tone: pretty swarmish some days.
Hair Color: if you can find it, its red.
Eye Color: the color of eye.
Class: intelligence
Sub Class Points: scientist (7) strategist (4) pilot (2)
Perks: cooking, fine wine tasting, brewery.
Bio: Wilson was heading off to work one day when he lost conciousness, flickering back briefly to the sight of himself being dragged through a doorway in the shape of a woman's genitalia.
Random Info: Wilson can conjure baked goods, it is a spell he knows. each day he can conjure three muffins or two cupcakes, or a single coffee cake. as he progresses he will be able to summon animated delicatessen to fight for him.
Friends/Loved Ones: he has a pet turtle named alfred, who as a result of a bizarre confectionary accident has a reinforced muffintop instead of a shell.
Hatreds: all things shaped like pears inspire an intense rage in Wilson.
Name: Wilson
Age: 19
Race: zerg
Sub Species (if one): swarm host (oh YES I went there!)
Skin Tone: pretty swarmish some days.
Hair Color: if you can find it, its red.
Eye Color: the color of eye.
Class: intelligence
Sub Class Points: scientist (7) strategist (4) pilot (2)
Perks: cooking, fine wine tasting, brewery.
Bio: Wilson was heading off to work one day when he lost conciousness, flickering back briefly to the sight of himself being dragged through a doorway in the shape of a woman's genitalia.
Random Info: Wilson can conjure baked goods, it is a spell he knows. each day he can conjure three muffins or two cupcakes, or a single coffee cake. as he progresses he will be able to summon animated delicatessen to fight for him.
Friends/Loved Ones: he has a pet turtle named alfred, who as a result of a bizarre confectionary accident has a reinforced muffintop instead of a shell.
Hatreds: all things shaped like pears inspire an intense rage in Wilson.
Just make it work. :|
OOC: Wanna start now?
11/19/2011 08:11 PMPosted by Roboto
Just make it work. :|


I haven't the slightest idea what it is you mean.
11/19/2011 08:12 PMPosted by Hellspork
Just make it work. :|


I haven't the slightest idea what it is you mean.
You're a spork from hell. :| Just make it work.
very well! let the RP begin! (oh and by the way, I am quite skilled at rping. just think of this as my personal challenge. the tone of this RP will in no way be shattered by the conjuring of cakes.)
OOC: I believe mass fighting will just end in fail. So here it goes.
For all except Jake:

One man starts to fight, and another, and like a chain you all start. The men clap and some even cheer your names. Some are killed, some wounded, at the end only about 15 of the 120 are left... alive... You 15 are taken to a room. The tall man who greeted you in a Tunic chuckles and walks by you all. Making you each stand in a Military fashion line. He states "Eh... one more fight... we can't use you all... But it's pass time so..." He stares at a young girl... no more than 17 and says "Guards, have her 'Entertain' the audience." She cries slightly "Yes sir." The guard states evily. "For now, you 'survivors'... Well..." He brings in a table and a deck of cards for you to do whatever you please.

Jake:

You are wounded, near dead, taken to an infirmary. You are healed and one of the nurses sneaks you into the room with the others... she hands you a knife as she opens the door to the room. "Use it wisely..." She runs off. As you enter the room you hear her scream... Poor Betty...

Info: The guards are gritty lugs. They'd kill whole villages of innocents and not even shed a emotion. The Tunic man seems almost... 'Over Confident' in you.

OOC: You'll get new info every time after a battle.
"So, does anybody know what the hell happened? I just woke up and started fighting for my life. That tunic dude just said something about using us. WTF?"
"Assss-- trollogg---ically... he... wann---ts so--mething to--- do wi---th us..." A stuttering 23 looking Scrawny boy states quietly.
"Astrolloigically my !@#, Science don't fit in 'ere no doubt..." A former marine looking man states as he starts to make a tower of cards.
"Obviously. But, since I guess we are going to have to kill each other in the end... Truces anyone?"
Wilson looked around himself at the other men seated at the small round table.
the game was five card draw and with fifteen people, the hands would come out of the wood work like nothing else. He signalled under the table for Alfred to pass him his lucky visor and a cuban cigar. confident, he picked up his cards one by one.

ace.
two.
three.
four.
six.

He was dead set on folding, but when the round came to him, something stopped him. It was almost like he could feel little dice rolling in his head. he grinned around his cigar, put down his cards and said "give me four and I'm all in."
his dad had taught him how to gamble as a child, and this was the opposite of everything he had learned. not only was he playing like a complete idiot, but he was broadcasting it to everyone within earshot. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that the luck was with him as he turned over the cards that came back to him, one at a time.

ace.
ace.
two.
two.

all diamonds.

couple that with the ace from before, which was also of diamonds, and he had a full house flush. with fifteen players and two decks it was still risky, but as he looked around the table he saw others folding one by one at the sight of his all in. in the end, it came down to him and one other player. they locked eyes and set their cards down on the table.
one by one.
ace.
ace.
ace.
ace.
ace.

the other player had all diamonds too, but Wilson laughed at the idiocy of playing with two decks before declaring that he had won the hand. after seeing the dubious looks of the players around him, he explained that the game was built around one deck, so five aces of diamonds just meant two pair and a flush, which he had beaten, although barely.


(wilson is now loaded, with whatever bits and bobs the players were betting with in the arena.)

(I started typing this 15 seconds after the RP started, you guys are jerks xD)
"I'm for it.. Names Chad.." The Ex Marine states.

"S--urre... they ca--ll m--ee-- J--oonasss.." The scrawn says lightly.

"Why not..." A man the size of a Marauder suit says. "I'm Jenkins.."

"Count us in!" Others reply.
(I am a changeling, I don't have any bits and bobs)

"Nice to meet you all, Name's Andy. I really can't bet anything, so I'll just watch..."
I would like to join, so don't kill off too many more.
11/19/2011 08:42 PMPosted by Zanon
I would like to join, so don't kill off too many more.
There's about 11 who they're gonna make fight just so Sadistic people in the crowd can see and laugh as they die, there's about 7 in the survivors room, and 2 prisoners. Open spaces that is.
Jonas picks up a piece of rock and starts to scribble in a diagram of the Colloseum.
"We--ree... here... the snipers can pi--ck us off if-- we ru--n thi--ss way..." He scribbles in some routes and crosses others out.
Wilson looks at the faces around him and notices the fact that everyone in the truce so far is a human. with such an obvious difference between him and them, anyone who took a dislike to him could easily manipulate the rest of the men into cutting him out. still, there was a solution to every problem, and so Wilson began drawing a pentagram on the floor, and when he was done he crossed his hands over it and muttered "laganum." A small batch of brownies appeared in the summoning circle, and he carried them over to the other men, asking if anyone was hungry.

can't get burned if nobody wants to burn you.
"He--yy brownyy guy... ov--er here..." Jonas states. He shows you the map and asks if you could help cover us when we 'escape'.
Wilson gives a dubious look to jonas, and asks him to define "cover"

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