'The Rush!' - An Epic Racing RP (Interest/Recruitment)

[NinjaDeathSlap]

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"You don't exactly look like you're from around here, an I'll bet right now you're feeling mighty confused. In a place like this, that's ain't exactly a safe state of mind for a man or lady to be in. If you wanna get by from one day to the next, you'd best prick up your ears and let this old-timer fill you in on some local history. I guess I should start from the very beginning. Don't worry, it ain't a long story. Or, well, maybe it would be if I knew the finer details. Heh, I guess that's just rule number one about this town though, about this whole damn planet even. If you're not paying attention, a lot of things can pass you by..."

How it all began:

Spoiler

"It's been about 200 years, more or less, since mankind first touched down on Terra Theta. That's by our calendar, by the way. Lord knows how long it's been in Earth years. Anyone who ever knew that is long gone now. Anyway, we finally did it. 'We went boldly where no men had been before.', or, however the hell that old saying used to go. Mankind left Earth, and went out for a wander. First, apparently, the other planets in the home system were terraformed. After that, we went further still. Humanity's best and brightest, strapped to big rockets and fired out into the great unknown, just to see what they could find. I suppose, when you thin about it like that, we were all crazy from the start. I was no wonder things went the way they did.

Terra Theta then, that where we are now. Can't speak for the rest. There were others. Other rockets, other bright and brave settlers in 'em, and the other habitable planets they found. Maybe some o' them are getting by better than we are right now. I hope so. As for Earth? Jeez! It's been over a century since we last heard from them. I don't know, and I don't wanna know! Wherever they are, whatever they're doing, they couldn't give a Kuunak's Left Sac about us, an' I ain't feelin' no different about them! You see, that's where the problems started..."

How it all went to shit:

Spoiler

"Things must have been lookin' mighty fine at first. We couldn't have asked for a better home from home. Air was breathable, climate was stable an tempernent (Wait, no that ain't it! 'Temparmet'? 'Tenperce'-aw fuck it! It was warm!), water was plentiful, an' the local food was edible. Terra Theta had everything those first brainiac's needed for a fresh start. A new civilisation; an' another chance not ta screw it up.

Then what happens? Some dumb-fuck city slicker in a fancy suit back on Earth makes the wrong phone call, or presses the wrong button, or summin' like that, an' the economy crashes! In a matter or hours, poof! Everyone's stock is droppin' left an' right, folks losin' their jobs all over the damn place. I guess The Great Human Endeavour, happenin' light years away musta' seemed like a mighty large waste of time an' money, when ordinary folks back home were strugglin' to feed their families. Anyhow, us out here soon found out just how much we meant to Mother Earth. They abandoned us! First, they stopped bringing in new settlers, then they stopped funding new developments. Before long, they stopped even botherin' to contact us at all. We were left to fend for ourselves.

Even then, things weren't too bad. Hell, I'll bet to some it musta' seemed like an improvement! When Earth cut us loose, we avoided all their problems spillin' over onto us. Might've even been the last piece o' the puzzle for a fresh start, with no Old Earth with it's old values to hold us back. We did fine for a time. Worked the land, built roads an cities. We were lookin' right on track, an' that's when things got crazy..."

"Hey! Are you still listenin'! I'm just gettin' to the good part; an' I'm gettin' a might thirsty. You want me to keep talkin', you better start buying me drinks!"

How it all REALLY went to shit:

Spoiler

"Hell, I swear I had some sorta scientist fella' explain this shit to me once, but I forget the finer points of what he said. There was some kinda new chemical doo-dad in the water (or was it the food?), like nothing humans had ever come across before now, that started messin' up our heads. It's only found in tiny quantities, an' it don't do nothin' nasty to you at first, so for a long time we got by thinkin' that there was nothin' to worry about. Thing is though, once it's in you, it stays in you. Your liver don't wash it out, not ever. Every time you drink (or eat?) you take a little more in, an' a handful o' generations down the line, a little started becomin' a lot.

Now, lemme think for a second about what he said to me... just gimme a sec... Got it! The chemical lowers our inhabiten-shit-inhibitions, an' starts to block out our higher reasoning processes, or summin' like that. It's makes you fucked up in the head, that what I'm getting at. People stopped havin' any respect fer law an' order. They just took what they wanted, when they wanted it, an' if someone tried to get it their way, there'd be blood. By the time the powers at be figued out what was goin' on an' managed to trace the source, half the population was losin' their Goddamn minds! It hit us hard, and those were some dark times for a while, an' it's a fuckin' miracle we made it through at all. Now, we've got drugs to keep us thinkin' straight, but they ain't always in plentiful supply, an' every so often we start becomin' resistant to 'em, so they have to make a new formula. We're gettin' by, most o' the time. Don't be makin' no mistake though, you found yerself in a dangerous place..."

How 'The Rush' began:

Spoiler

"What with all the crazy goin' round an' all, blood sports are a lot more popular than they use'ta be. The guvmint's not all that fussed about stoppin' us. It helps 'em out see, when the real fucked up guys are killin' each other, it means less crazy in the gene pool, an' gives the rest o' us a distraction, so we don't go out lootin'. The biggest event o' the whole year, is 'The Rush'.

It's a race, you see, from one end o' the Southern Continent to the other. Start's off in Ragnarok, that's this 'ere town, an goes all the way across to the Emerald Coast. Anybody can enter, with almost any kinda' vehicle, an' you can take whatever path you want, so long as you get from point A, to point B. Seems simple enough, don't it? You win, you get a life o' luxury 'til the end o' your days, don't need to worry 'bout a thing no more. You lose... well, you usually too dead to worry about a thing anyway, hah!

No rules, you see. Beyond the town limits, anything goes. Run your rival off the road, shoot 'em, crush 'em, blow 'em sky high, an' everybody just cheers you on. That's not all. There's The Great Waste, between you an' the finish line. Gotta make your rations go slow out there. There's great open plains full o' wild chungduks, that'll go for stragglers; an' don't even get me started on sinkhole country!

You best make your peace with your maker if you ever think about signin' up. Mind you, it's a helluva' prize, an' not many folks got much else to live for these days."

"So, whaddaya say kid? You reckon you got what it takes?"

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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand out of character! If you like what you just read and you want to post a character sheet, then here's a template for what details I need you to put down.

Spoiler

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Appearance: (This part doesn't need to be massively detailed, but it needs to be enough so that, if other players want to refer back to your sheet when describing aspects of your appearance, they have something substantial to work with.)

Background: Where does your character come from, and how did they end up in Ragnarok? (Feel free to make up place names and such to your hearts content. If anything you come up with is a problem, rest assured I will tell you.)

Personality: (This one's mostly self-explanatory. However, I want to be included in this a clear idea of why your character is signing up for 'The Rush.' Is their eye on the prize for some personal reason? Are they just a thrill-seeker of the highest order? Are they a sadist who's relishing the opportunity to make a lot of other people die in a ball of fire?)

Your vehicle: It can be anything that goes along the ground and has an engine, pretty much. Car, motorbike, monster truck, you name it! (I don't want anything too shiny though. This is more Mad Max than Speed Racer. I want lots of rust, crude self-customisation, and spare parts that don't quite match.)

I will post my own character sheet or sheets tomorrow, as it's now really late over here. In the mean time, please let me know of your interest, and if you have any queries, feel free to ask them here or in a PM to me. Start your engines people!

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Sorry for the wait, here's my character sheet now...

Spoiler

Name: Belle "Queen B" Hamilton

Age: 21

Gender: Female

Appearance: Belle stands at 5ft 10in in height, with a slender, athletic build. She has very fair skin, often covered with a layer of engine grease, and long red hair, which is ties back in a high ponytail, leaving just a few strands at the front to fall over her face. Her bright green eyes give a sharpness to her gaze, which is offset by her freckles. She dresses in khaki cargo pants, with a spiky belt, and a faded yellow tank top that is torn around the midriff. She had two tattoos. The first is a red rose around her navel, and the second is a prancing horse over her left shoulder. Along with these, she wears earrings made of old wheel nuts. She has a faint scar on her neck, below the right side of her jaw. He smile is easy, and her scowl is fierce.

Background: Belle was orphaned when she was very young, and spent the early years of her life as a street urchin in the town of Goodwill Springs. Life was hard, and Belle learned how to tough it out with the best of them.

With the memory of her parent's faces fading, the only thing Belle had left of them to hold on to, was the model of a 1960's Mustang that her father had owned. One day, when Belle was eight, two other street kids, with no access to the behavioral modification drugs that they needed to keep them in a clam frame of mind, had decided that they'd like the toy car for themselves, and attempted to take it from Belle. Belle resisted, and one of the boys pulled out a flick knife. The fight ended with Belle bleeding from the neck, and with the two boys dead in an alley. Those were her first kills. They wouldn't be the last; and Belle still carries that flick knife to this day.

Her emotional attachment to this toy car led to a great passion to the full sized machines themselves. Thankfully, as well as passion, Belle also discovered a great natural aptitude for fixing and tuning cars; and she was able for the first time in her life to make an honest living, working as an apprentice in a small repair and modding shop in Goodwill Springs. The owner of the shop, Pink-Eyed Joe, was greatly impressed with her skill and creativity. He took her under his wing and taught Belle everything he knew. Eventually, he became a kind of second father to her, letting her live in a room above the shop, with a soft bed and hot meals for the first time in years. He also eventually allowed her to tune and race a few of the scrap cars on the side, where again, Belle discovered a natural talent. She won several local races, despite driving a collection of absolute rust buckets even by the local standards. Belle had started to make a name for herself.

Unfortunately, Pink-Eyed Joe was an old man, sickly, and without an heir. He died when Belle was 16. There had been talk between them about the possibility of the business passing over to her after he was gone, but he's never got down to amending his Will. Besides, for all her talent and hard work, Belle would have made a poor manager. Balancing the books was not her strong point. With no-one to run it, the shop closed down, and Belle was once again left without a job and without a home. She decided that her time in Goodwill springs had run its course, and it was time to make a life for herself elsewhere. So, she got in her favourite rust bucket, and began the long drive south to Ragnarok.

Belle had always dreamed of racing in 'The Rush' someday. to a former urchin like herself, the riches that victory offered were certainly an attractive prospect. However, it was more than that. It was the ultimate test of skill and determination for someone like Belle. A chance to metaphorically spit in the faces of everybody who had ever looked at her, and seen nothing but scrawny street trash. It was her chance to prove she was the best, to earn everlasting glory. Knowing that Joe would have slapped her upside the head for ever even thinking about entering something so dangerous at her age, she signed up.

Her first outing was the 95th annual Rush, and Belle was the youngest of over 150 competitors. Less than twenty of those competitors made it to the finish line on the Emerald Coast. Among them was Beth, having placed third. She may have lost the race her first time out, but her incredible skill and fierce attitude for a newcomer, and such a young one at that, had one her the love of the fans. She was their underdog hero, and the year after she can back, and was the first across the line of only 12 finishers. It was after her second outing that she was bestowed by the media with the race name, "Queen B". Normally, after a competitor has been victorious in 'The Rush', they enjoy a happy and luxurious retirement. Not the Queen B though. She was hooked, addicted to the thrill and the adoration of her fans. She came back and won again, and the year after that, and the year after that. She'll be doing this until she dies; and she's not the underdog anymore. she's the one to beat.

Personality: Belle's got fire in her heart. You don't want to get on her bad side. Whether it's on the road, or on her own two feet, this woman's a fighter, and she never gives up. On the other hand, she rarely approaches any situation with open hostility, more often a cheeky smile and a dash of swagger. Even after how far she's come, she always identifies with the underdog, and will at times take great risks on her own part during the race, to help out others who's ethic she respects. Among the legendary ranks of the Rush Racers, the Queen B is both liked and feared in equal measure.

Vehicle: Belle's still driving the same old rust bucket that she left Goodwill Springs with, but like Beth Herself, "Red Rosiline" has come a long way since then. A low-slung muscle car, decked out in scarlet paint, heavily modified suspension and chassis, and with a snarling, twin-supercharged V8 under the hood. She's a thing of beauty. Watch out though, with her wheel shredders at the side, oil slick mechanism at the back, and twin auto shotguns mounted in the front grill, this rose has thorns!

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Wow, is RP just really slow right now, or is there a problem? Anybody even have a question to ask, or just want to express interest without putting down a character sheet yet?

 

[Evrant-Knight]

Whilst this does sound like an interesting RP, and if I knew what type of character I'd want to play, I certainly consider putting something up, it's just I don't have any characters for the moment I'm afraid.

Also, obligatory page bump.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Whilst this does sound like an interesting RP, and if I knew what type of character I'd want to play, I certainly consider putting something up, it's just I don't have any characters for the moment I'm afraid.

Also, obligatory page bump.

Thank you, and be sure to tell me if you think of something.

I should probably also post up some ground rules for this thing...

Spoiler

1) This one should really go without saying, but out side of the context of characters interacting with each-other within the story, posters should keep to the rules of the Escapist forums.

2) Anyone who submits a character, does so in the mindset of commitment to the RP. I understand that people have lives, we all do, and even beyond that unforeseen circumstances can interfere with people's posting frequency. I'm not asking for people to necessarily be posting every day. However, I'd like an acceptable average of 2-3 times a week at least. If you can't post for an extended period of time, for any reason, then if possible at least still keep in touch via group chat or PM to keep everyone informed of your situation. Finally, if you need to drop out at any point, please inform the group, so your character(s) can be written out appropriately. Nobody likes to chase after people who have just gone dark without warning.

3) Forum Dice will be used to decide outcomes in both PvP and PvNPC combat, when such situations occur. The outcomes of these rolls are to be respected by all participants at all times. No player character is going to be killed off against the will of the player in question. However, that doesn't mean there won't be consequences for losing.

4) While I'm not imposing any universal index on how users write their posts, posters must make non-real-time elements of their posts (for example, inner monologues, flashbacks, dream-sequences etc.) easily distinguishable from real-time elements. If a player is controlling more than one character in the same post, then they must make the dived between their characters clearly defined so other players are not confused as to who is doing what. All speech must be in full quotation marks, and please refrain from using coloured text (it's just really annoying).

5) All players accepted into the RP must join the RP user group, which will be established once enough players have been accepted.

6) 'The Rush' is a long race (geographically, you're going from one end of a continent larger than Asia to another. Obviously, there will be several stops along the way for various reasons. During those times, your characters will have the opportunity to interact outside the confines of the race itself (there'll also be plenty of other sub-plots going on against the backdrop of 'The Rush' to keep you interested). During these periods, 'The Rush' has only one rule. Other contestants vehicles must not be interfered with in any way. Keep it in the race.

 

[WhyBotherToTry]

Here's a character sheet. Let me know if anything needs changing. Also, will more details be provided about the world, like the great waste, chungduks etc?

Spoiler: Character Sheet

Name: Evan Rolands

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Appearence: Standing about 5' 11'' tall, his skin is pale and slightly bleached looking. His fair hair is cut short, and pushed back over a round, open face. He observes the world through a pair of grey-blue eyes, and his chin is often adorned with a coating of stubble. He is usually seen dressed in his motorbike leathers which have light armour plating on the back, chest, arms and shoulders. While they won't take an unlimited amount of punishment, they serve their function, which is to better protect against gunshots, the sun and all the various hazards one is sure to encounter on the Rush.

Background: Born and raised in the town of Hope's Garden, Evan showed a passion for machines growing up, and it was unlikely he would become anything other than a mechanic, though his parents wished he would follow his elder brother into agriculture. He had few friends growing up, and turned to the cars, bikes and trucks he worked on, and his fellow mechanics for company.

Being a mechanic, talk of the Rush was frequent and enthusiastic in Evan's workplace, and after many years spent discussing it, Evan and his workmates decided they would enter it. Hoping to immortalise themselves like so many of their heroes and live in security and plenty for once in their lives, they began building their motorbike.

As they were nearing the end of development on their bike, everything went wrong. Evan was out on a 4 day ride into the wilderness to test their project's endurance in harsh conditions, when Hope's Garden was attacked by a party of raiders. Unregulated by the behaviour modifiers holding the residents in check, they slaughtered the people and razed the town to the ground. Evan returned from his ride 2 days later to find burnt out husks of buildings and silence on the air.

After extracting some tools from what remained of their workshop, Evan remained in the town to finish the bike and grieve for the deceased. The few buildings the raiders hadn't completely destroyed yielded some materials necessary for the bike, such as extra petrol cans and a container where supplies might be stored. After scavenging what supplies remained, he set out for Ragnarok.

Personality: Still gripped, to a certain extent, by the impotent fury following the massacre at his home, Evan is quiet by nature, though with time he has come out of his shell of grief somewhat and is now a bit more personable. Usually non-violent, he will lash out if attacked, but in most cases will opt for a non-aggressive approach. Highly observant, he takes note of everything around him, and will help if possible, but he is slightly paranoid, and is always on the lookout for traps and ill-intent towards him.

Vehicle: Evan's bike, ?Chimaera? is larger than most bikes one sees on Terra Theta. Its long chassis provides stability, and thick off-road tryres ensure grip regardless of the surface. The bike's 1000 cc engine screams rather than roars, and auxilliary fuel tanks just in front of the back wheel protect against unscheduled stops. Rusted armour plates along the sides guarantees some protection for his legs and the bike's engine, fuel reserves and supplies. A machine gun mounted above the front wheel is the bike's main offense, though it will overheat if used for too long without time to cool down. A defensive weapon comes in the form of a pair of spikes on the end of pneumatic pistons on either side of the bike, capable of punching through vehicles and people alike, they can reach up to 2 feet away from either side of the bike. The exit holes in the armour that they necessitated did make a slight structural weakness, though the addition of strengthening beams beneath the plates has minimised this. Covered in black paint chipped from travel, it has been the work of the last 3 years, and Evan is eager to test it in the Rush.

Also, could you please explain "Forum dice" to me, I've never heard of that before.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Here's a character sheet. Let me know if anything needs changing. Also, will more details be provided about the world, like the great waste, chungduks etc?

Spoiler: Character Sheet

Name: Evan Rolands

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Appearence: Standing about 5' 11'' tall, his skin is pale and slightly bleached looking. His fair hair is cut short, and pushed back over a round, open face. He observes the world through a pair of grey-blue eyes, and his chin is often adorned with a coating of stubble. He is usually seen dressed in his motorbike leathers which have light armour plating on the back, chest, arms and shoulders. While they won't take an unlimited amount of punishment, they serve their function, which is to better protect against gunshots, the sun and all the various hazards one is sure to encounter on the Rush.

Background: Born and raised in the town of Hope's Garden, Evan showed a passion for machines growing up, and it was unlikely he would become anything other than a mechanic, though his parents wished he would follow his elder brother into agriculture. He had few friends growing up, and turned to the cars, bikes and trucks he worked on, and his fellow mechanics for company.

Being a mechanic, talk of the Rush was frequent and enthusiastic in Evan's workplace, and after many years spent discussing it, Evan and his workmates decided they would enter it. Hoping to immortalise themselves like so many of their heroes and live in security and plenty for once in their lives, they began building their motorbike.

As they were nearing the end of development on their bike, everything went wrong. Evan was out on a 4 day ride into the wilderness to test their project's endurance in harsh conditions, when Hope's Garden was attacked by a party of raiders. Unregulated by the behaviour modifiers holding the residents in check, they slaughtered the people and razed the town to the ground. Evan returned from his ride 2 days later to find burnt out husks of buildings and silence on the air.

After extracting some tools from what remained of their workshop, Evan remained in the town to finish the bike and grieve for the deceased. The few buildings the raiders hadn't completely destroyed yielded some materials necessary for the bike, such as extra petrol cans and a container where supplies might be stored. After scavenging what supplies remained, he set out for Ragnarok.

Personality: Still gripped, to a certain extent, by the impotent fury following the massacre at his home, Evan is quiet by nature, though with time he has come out of his shell of grief somewhat and is now a bit more personable. Usually non-violent, he will lash out if attacked, but in most cases will opt for a non-aggressive approach. Highly observant, he takes note of everything around him, and will help if possible, but he is slightly paranoid, and is always on the lookout for traps and ill-intent towards him.

Vehicle: Evan's bike, ?Chimaera? is larger than most bikes one sees on Terra Theta. Its long chassis provides stability, and thick off-road tryres ensure grip regardless of the surface. The bike's 1000 cc engine screams rather than roars, and auxilliary fuel tanks just in front of the back wheel protect against unscheduled stops. Rusted armour plates along the sides guarantees some protection for his legs and the bike's engine, fuel reserves and supplies. A machine gun mounted above the front wheel is the bike's main offense, though it will overheat if used for too long without time to cool down. A defensive weapon comes in the form of a pair of spikes on the end of pneumatic pistons on either side of the bike, capable of punching through vehicles and people alike, they can reach up to 2 feet away from either side of the bike. The exit holes in the armour that they necessitated did make a slight structural weakness, though the addition of strengthening beams beneath the plates has minimised this. Covered in black paint chipped from travel, it has been the work of the last 3 years, and Evan is eager to test it in the Rush.

Also, could you please explain "Forum dice" to me, I've never heard of that before.

I'm really digging your character sheet man. Nice job!

Yes, there's going to be a lot more detail in the world once the RP actually starts. I didn't explain everything right now because of the style in which I chose to introduce things, and also because I didn't want massive walls of text meeting everyone who came to this thread. As for your more specific queries, Chungduks are a form of alien wildlife found on Terra Theta (Imaging an Ostrich, but with bright orange and purple plumage, and large enough to swallow a man whole). and the Great Waste is an expanse of arid desert that exists on the southern continent that the players will have to pass though over the course of The Rush. Forum Dice (that's probably not an official term, I just call them that) are the virtual dice used in the User groups of some RP's to determine the outcomes of certain actions. Say a player takes a high risk action, the GM states that they have to roll above a certain number in order for that action to succeed.

 

[WhyBotherToTry]

Snip.

I'm not really sure I understand the bit about forum dice. For example, say I wanted to attack someone, would I then be sent a message saying what I needed to perform the action, and the number I actually rolled?

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Snip.

I'm not really sure I understand the bit about forum dice. For example, say I wanted to attack someone, would I then be sent a message saying what I needed to perform the action, and the number I actually rolled?

Is this your first RP?

If yes, then you'll understand better once we actually set up the User Group.

Basically, it's the same concept as any tabletop role-play that uses dice to determine outcomes, only because this is online it's not actually using physical dice, rather a random number generator that's attached to the group chat.

If you wanted to attack someone, either another player character, or an NPC that I determine is important enough to warrant a roll, I'd send you a message in group chat as GM, saying that you need to roll to determine whether or not you are successful, and how much you need to get to determine that (for example, 10+ on a 1d 20 (10 or more on a 20-sided dice)). You then click to roll. If you get 10 or above, you win. If you get less than 10, you lose, and how far below 10 you got may determine how much you are penalized by said failure.

Does that make it slightly more clear?

 

[WhyBotherToTry]

Snip.

I'm not really sure I understand the bit about forum dice. For example, say I wanted to attack someone, would I then be sent a message saying what I needed to perform the action, and the number I actually rolled?

Is this your first RP?

If yes, then you'll understand better once we actually set up the User Group.

Basically, it's the same concept as any tabletop role-play that uses dice to determine outcomes, only because this is online it's not actually using physical dice, rather a random number generator that's attached to the group chat.

If you wanted to attack someone, either another player character, or an NPC that I determine is important enough to warrant a roll, I'd send you a message in group chat as GM, saying that you need to roll to determine whether or not you are successful, and how much you need to get to determine that (for example, 10+ on a 1d 20 (10 or more on a 20-sided dice)). You then click to roll. If you get 10 or above, you win. If you get less than 10, you lose, and how far below 10 you got may determine how much you are penalized by said failure.

Does that make it slightly more clear?

Yes, that clears it up a bit, thanks. I didn't know that random number generators could even be attached to user groups. Out of curiosity, is that a standard feature on the site when setting up a user group for an RP?

Also, no this isn't my first RP, I have done one before, but it didn't involve dice.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

snip

No, it's an optional feature, which would explain why you haven't come across it before.

 

[WhyBotherToTry]

As a matter of interest, how many people will take part in this RP? By that I mean actual players, not NPC's.

Also, yes I will admit it, a little bit of my reason for posting this was to bump up the thread.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

As a matter of interest, how many people will take part in this RP? By that I mean actual players, not NPC's.

Also, yes I will admit it, a little bit of my reason for posting this was to bump up the thread.

It entirely depends on how many good characters we get. I'm looking for 6 or 7 player characters that are to a good standard at the very least. Now, these can come from 6 or seven individual participants, or they can come from certain participants controlling more than one character, I'm not too fussed. Beyond that, it's just a question of how many more we can get. The recruitment process will probably take a while, as I'm moving house in mid-July, during which time I'll be offline for a few days, so I don't want the RP to have already started by then.

I was going to post a second character sheet of my own soon, either later today or at some time tomorrow. I also have at least one more player who's going to bring something to the table as soon as he's able, although I don't know how many sheets he plans on writing at this time. Rest assured, we're still alive, and I hope once we get a little further off the ground, this thread will start attracting some more attention.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Ok, here's my second character sheet. Here's hoping it will help inspire a few more people...

Spoiler

Name: Jason "Lockjaw" DiMarco

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Appearance: Standing tall at 6ft 5in in height, with a broad chest and massive, toned arms, Jason is a hulking, presence, impossible to ignore in a room for this, among other reasons. Ethnically Italian American, his once fair skin has now been weather-beaten to a much more ruddy brown color. The hair on his head that was once a rich, jet black, has now morphed into pure white, and become much more wispy in volume, though still slicked back in it's old style. The left side of his face is ordinary. Rather handsome (though nothing so striking as to turn heads), with high cheekbones, a prominent chin, big nose and a soft, grayish green eye colour. He still retains a largely youthful look in this side of his face, despite becoming more lined and hollowed out, due to stress making him look a fair few years older than the actually is. On the right side of his face, Jason is terribly deformed, his visage dominated by the ugly, broad scarring. Tendrils of mauve that snake down from his milky white eye, consuming his nose, his lips, and continuing down his neck all the way past the neck of his shirt. This side is gaunt and pale, the skin stretched and twisted. If you look closely, you can see an greyish hue beneath it, where metal has replaced bone on almost a third of his skull. Dressed all in an old, studded leather jacket, faded and torn blue jeans, and heavy black boots, 'grim' would be the most appropriate one-word summary of Jason's look and manner.

Background: Jason was just your average kind of guy, once. A laborer, he was good with his hands, and working outdoors kept his healthy and strong. He was gentle in nature, and slightly introverted. He was never the life and soul of the party, but he was the sort of guy you could feel comfortable around. Like many young men growing up in Robson's Beacon, on the Tranquil Plateau, Jason harbored dreams of one day getting out of his 2-bit town, and making a name for himself somewhere more prosperous. He had a hobby on the side racing cars, but then, that was nothing unusual; and while he was good, winning a few local meets, and placing well in a few more, no-one was expecting greatness out of him. In truth, Jason was never really unhappy with the simple life, he could have quite easily left the madness of events like The Rush to someone else, and kept on going on his mundane way. Until, that is, his father broke his leg in a workplace accident, and was forced into an early retirement. Jason was left as the sole bread-winner in a family of six children, and suddenly the laborer's wage just wasn't cutting it anymore. Not being a learned man, Jason wasn't going to become a doctor, or a lawyer, or even a supervisor anytime soon. His somewhat-noteworthy talent with racing was the only card he had to play, and the riches that 1st prize at The Rush offered could keep each member of his family in comfort and plenty for the rest of their lives. His parents disliked the idea of him entering immensely, but neither could they see much of an alternative, and eventually Jason wore them down, and persuaded them to let him go. Although he knew the dangers, he couldn't help but be a little excited, as he made the pilgrimage to Ragnarok with all the other budding hero's. He was 27 at the time.

His fateful decision would cost him, dearly. Things started out ok. Jason was just fast enough to keep on the tail of the lead pack of runners, and just smart enough to stay out of trouble. To win would still be a huge ask, but Jason was still in contention, and in The Rush, anything can happen...

Unfortunately, 'anything' was not going to happen in Jason's favour. Four months in, and about 2 thirds of the way through the race, as the remaining competitors were snaking their way through a mountainous region known as Bonekeeper Pass, another contestant fired an RPG at Jason's vehicle. The rocket impacted with the cliff face to the side of Jason's car, and shrapnel from the explosion cane through his windshield, embedding itself deep in his face. Jason lost consciousness, and without him steering his car drove over the side of the road, and out into the void beyond it. For over 600ft down the car tumbled and rolled, crashing against the rocks, before it came to rest at the bottom of the ravine. Miraculously, the fuel tank didn't ignite and the chassis had remained intact. hours after the race had passed him by, Jason awoke. He was still alive, for now, but things were bleak. He was severely injured, blind in one eye and unable to vocalize, thanks to the damage to his jaw. He could still walk under his own steam, but the rocky ground underfoot made his progress slow, and he had no idea which way to travel. He way hungry, cold, and soon ran out of his supply of Synapsin, the drug that allowed him to hold onto his sanity. Amazingly, a still alive Jason limped turned up on the boundaries of the hill town Dawson's Leap, 2 weeks later, almost on his hands and knees with exhaustion by that point. Or rather, did he? A broken and bloodied man with charred metal in his face limped into town that day, but he wasn't Jason anymore.

Once the mental degradation set in, only one thing had sustained him on his torturous journey to find help and shelter. Rage. He wanted that other driver dead, by his hand. That rage had consumed him, and wouldn't release him even after new supplies of Synapsin had reawakened his powers of reason. Sometimes, when a man's mind is so far gone, there's only so much that can be brought back. There was no saving the sight in his right eye, and only a small amount of his vocal ability was restored. To this day, he cannot speak in anything more than grunts (hence the name "Lockjaw"). As soon as he was well enough, Jason booked passage to Eastern Dawn, the town on the Emerald Coast that marked the finish line for The Rush. He was going to be there when that mother fucker crossed the line, and he was going to make him pay.

So, there Jason was, standing silent, seething and determined, as the rest of the crowd went wild as the first finishers streaked past. He counted the cars, waiting, but he would be denied his revenge. The driver who had maimed him never finished, having himself become a casualty of the perils of The Rush. At that moment of realisation, the final thread of Jason's humanity broke. All his anger and blood lust remained with him, but now there was no-one to channel it towards. Many would have put a pistol in their mouths at that moment, but Jason had changed. He wasn't just anyone anymore. A man who survives the torment he endured in Bonekeeper Pass does not lay down and die so easily. He trained, religiously, on his physical strength, and on his driving ability. He saved all the money he could scrounge to buy and modify a new vehicle, and raced again. If he couldn't kill the man he wanted, he'd resolve to kill anyone and anything that got in his way. Jason is an infamous racer now, egged on by the cruelest and most sadistic members of the audience, the same sort who cheered when he himself was blasted to oblivion, and feared by everyone else. He is still yet to win The Rush, but has placed well enough times to earn a great deal of money. More than he ever needed to support his family back home. However, they won't be seeing any of it. His attachment to his home and family was just one more thing that died in the mountains. He spends his money on constantly tuning his vehicle, making it faster, tougher, and deadlier. What remains, he drinks and gambles away, while living in squalor.

Personality: You could rightly see Jason as a pitiful figure, but you'd be unwise to let any sympathy you might have for how much he has suffered cloud your judgement when dealing with him. He hates you and everything about you. If you come up against him and live, it's only because there was something about the guy next to you that made him hate that guy even more. Victory, glory, his own survival, Jason cares little or not at all for any of these things. Violence, that's all that matters to him any more, and The Rush is always providing more meat for the slaughter.

Vehicle: Jason rides "Bloodhound", a pickup truck kitted out with some seriously heavy duty modifications. With triple-glazed bullet-proof glass on all the windows, a strengthened chassis and every body panel covered in thick, steel-alloy armor plating. There's no paint job, for Jason cares nothing for aesthetics, and the bare metal is streaked with rust. Mounted on the roof is a 360 degree turret, equipped with a rocket launcher and 50.cal heavy machine gun. On the grill, Jason has mounted a battering ram, shaped like a closed fist with spiked knuckles. In the back, Jason keeps his gun rack, as well as a rear-facing, heavy-duty grapple gun. This gun not only helps pull Bloodhound out of trouble if it gets stuck, but also acts as a special weapon. The armor-piercing harpoons can penetrate an engine block, immobilizing a pursuing vehicle. Then, Jason can use Bloodhound to swing them around like a rag-doll. To keep this tank moving at speed and over rough terrain with all the added weight, Bloodhound has massively modified tires, breaks, suspension, and an almost comically over-sized, turbocharged V12 sticking out of the hood.

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

Expressing my interest, and giving a friendly little bump.

I love the idea, but I've got some stuff I need to catch up on first.

 

[Baddamobs]

Definitely looks interesting, and I'll certainly being making a character (will put it up as soon as I'm done), as long as you don't mind someone who's new to this whole RP stuff (this would be the first I took part in hehehe, >_>''''')

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Definitely looks interesting, and I'll certainly being making a character (will put it up as soon as I'm done), as long as you don't mind someone who's new to this whole RP stuff (this would be the first I took part in hehehe, >_>''''')

Unfortunately, this RP was stillborn a long time ago. I'm glad you liked the concept, but in all honesty the few people who made sheets for it to begin with have probably forgotten all about it by now.

 

[Baddamobs]

Definitely looks interesting, and I'll certainly being making a character (will put it up as soon as I'm done), as long as you don't mind someone who's new to this whole RP stuff (this would be the first I took part in hehehe, >_>''''')

Unfortunately, this RP was stillborn a long time ago. I'm glad you liked the concept, but in all honesty the few people who made sheets for it to begin with have probably forgotten all about it by now.

Oh, damn, really? Just finishing up the character sheet too. Well, I'll post it here anyway, if that's alright?

Spoiler

Name: Benedict "Ben" Maverick
Age: 28
Gender: male

Appearance:
He has a thin and somewhat tired demeanour, standing at 5?6, with fairly long shaggy black hair. If you're generous, his features are plain, though his unkempt beard and the starting of rings under dark brown eyes don't help matters. He is rarely seen without his grandpa's old aviator's jacket over the top of some thrown on soiled vest, though its fur collar is mostly missing, and much of the leather has been replaced and stitched rather haphazardly together, with the zip entirely missing. A faded mural of an owl in flight was once on the back of the jacket, though only one wing, part of its body, and its head is still visible; the other parts long since stitched over or lost. His dirty and patched cargo trousers' pockets are filled with odds and ends, as well as few smaller components of the engine pieces, and he always keeps a spare knife strapped to the side of his tough leather boots.

Background:
Things had started by, as things are want to do, pretty good for the Maverick family. When his grandparents had first settled on Terra Theta, roughly 180 years back*, they were a low importance business group, with a slowly but surely failing business venture back on earth, and this new venture had seemed like a good way to a new beginning of success and opportunity . For a while, it seemed to work too: they were well welcomed into their new home town of Stone Pastures, and made a fair name for themselves, alongside having the son which would become Benedict's father, and business started to look like it might once again be profitable. It was, of course, around this time that, as the locals so fondly put it, things 'went to shit.'

Now, many years down the line, Benedict (or just Ben, as he prefers) started on his winding road of life. Taught by his parents to protect himself when the time comes, including using a bolt-action hunting rifle that was practically an antique when his grandpa brought it over with him, Benedict attempted for a while to make a living from the very small inheritance he was given from his now long dead grandparents. He was into trading for a while, driving large caravans of goods from one town to the next, avoiding trouble as much as he could, and learning the ins and outs of large vehicles out of necessity when the second one he had invested in had broken down in the middle of nowhere, and he had to hike back, shame faced and now nearly penniless.

As is the Maverick's way, however, he managed to bounce back a few times, starting from the bottom of the rung of part time work, working up enough finances to start his trade route again, and just barely cutting a profit day by day. For the most part, cars (or caravans, in his case) were just a means to an end, and he tried his best to ignore the talk of the blood sports that his parents so heavily warned his against. Despite his work, however, his only just provided for his parents, now both too old to do any work that turned real profit, and often food and water had to be rationed between the three of them. Worst of all, the funds necessary to buy the medicine that would keep them all sane often didn?t come together enough, and they often insisted that he be given some of their doses, which he hesitantly and with great shame took.

This inevitably led to their undoing, and while Benedict was out on a caravan run, they supposedly left their small dwellings, wandered into the wastes, and never returned. Benedict shortly sold what he could of their house and possessions, keeping only a small wooden statue of an owl that his grandfather had given his father when he was a boy, and thought long and hard what he wanted to do with his life. He didn't want to stay in this trading job forever: while the money would put food on the table and medicine in his blood, he knew that he would, ultimately, change nothing and do little of significance in his life, and also knew this went against his family's proud (if somewhat small) line.

That's when he heard about the Rush, and, more importantly, the reward at the end. With funding like that, he could kick start an entire chain of caravans; he could hire drivers and protection; he could fund caravan paths to even the furthest reaches of the plant; he could become SOMEONE. Someone with an identity, with importance, with enough money to never have to worry about his family failing apart.

He knew the stories, and knew that his limited experience would hold him back, but he determined to make it through this race alive, and more importantly, win his ticket to HIS new beginning; a beginning of success and opportunity...

Personality:
Benedict didn't get where he was by trusting others, unless those others were being paid enough to secure their loyalty, he was more comfortable in the company of himself (and Oscar, his little wooden owl good luck charm). He is slow to trust others, and quick to judge them too, though he is fairly shrewd when it comes to matters of finance. He also recognises that very few expect him to win this; indeed, as he heard it, very few new comers live to see the finish line, though he plans to use this underestimation to his advantage. While his cautious in the way business men of his class are, he is quietly confident in his and his rifle's ability to at the very least survive to see Emerald Coast.
His eyes are firmly set on the prize: every day he will wake up with the goal of the large fortune that awaits him on the other side of the continent, and with it, he will secure his future business, and in turn, make his family proud of the starting up the business that the other Mavericks couldn't.

Your vehicle:
While not the speediest of vehicles, and the fact he's not an amazing lover of cars, Benedict has to admit he?s pretty proud of the "Pack Mule." A fairly (and more than fairly old and rustic) sized RV caravan converted into a small moving fortress, Benedict favoured defence over offence. Most of the exterior has been reinforced with at least two layers of rusty and mix-matched metal and defences to withstand the invertible punishment it was going to take, as well as plenty of cover for its wheels and windows, with crude metal coverings and reinforced glass respectively. This, unfortunately, left little money left over for weapons, but he is confident in its ability to ram anything else off the road, and he?s even practiced setting it to 'auto-pilot' (essentially locking the steering wheel in place with a rather jerry-rigged frame and putting a brick on the pedal) and leaning out the window and firing with his rifle, though this leaves his car going in a straight line and puts him in considerable risk.

*Just say if there is a problem with this: I wanted to make it clear that they weren?t the first, and were just another part of the settlers moving in, but if this screws with the timeline, just say and it can be changed to better fit it, especially since his grandparent's ages are variable at this stage.

Well, if things pick up, just let me know, if you still want to do it after things pick up that is. These kind of things can take time, after all, and maybe it will get picked up on the radar at some point.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Definitely looks interesting, and I'll certainly being making a character (will put it up as soon as I'm done), as long as you don't mind someone who's new to this whole RP stuff (this would be the first I took part in hehehe, >_>''''')

Unfortunately, this RP was stillborn a long time ago. I'm glad you liked the concept, but in all honesty the few people who made sheets for it to begin with have probably forgotten all about it by now.

Oh, damn, really? Just finishing up the character sheet too. Well, I'll post it here anyway, if that's alright?

Spoiler

Name: Benedict "Ben" Maverick
Age: 28
Gender: male

Appearance:
He has a thin and somewhat tired demeanour, standing at 5?6, with fairly long shaggy black hair. If you're generous, his features are plain, though his unkempt beard and the starting of rings under dark brown eyes don't help matters. He is rarely seen without his grandpa's old aviator's jacket over the top of some thrown on soiled vest, though its fur collar is mostly missing, and much of the leather has been replaced and stitched rather haphazardly together, with the zip entirely missing. A faded mural of an owl in flight was once on the back of the jacket, though only one wing, part of its body, and its head is still visible; the other parts long since stitched over or lost. His dirty and patched cargo trousers' pockets are filled with odds and ends, as well as few smaller components of the engine pieces, and he always keeps a spare knife strapped to the side of his tough leather boots.

Background:
Things had started by, as things are want to do, pretty good for the Maverick family. When his grandparents had first settled on Terra Theta, roughly 180 years back*, they were a low importance business group, with a slowly but surely failing business venture back on earth, and this new venture had seemed like a good way to a new beginning of success and opportunity . For a while, it seemed to work too: they were well welcomed into their new home town of Stone Pastures, and made a fair name for themselves, alongside having the son which would become Benedict's father, and business started to look like it might once again be profitable. It was, of course, around this time that, as the locals so fondly put it, things 'went to shit.'

Now, many years down the line, Benedict (or just Ben, as he prefers) started on his winding road of life. Taught by his parents to protect himself when the time comes, including using a bolt-action hunting rifle that was practically an antique when his grandpa brought it over with him, Benedict attempted for a while to make a living from the very small inheritance he was given from his now long dead grandparents. He was into trading for a while, driving large caravans of goods from one town to the next, avoiding trouble as much as he could, and learning the ins and outs of large vehicles out of necessity when the second one he had invested in had broken down in the middle of nowhere, and he had to hike back, shame faced and now nearly penniless.

As is the Maverick's way, however, he managed to bounce back a few times, starting from the bottom of the rung of part time work, working up enough finances to start his trade route again, and just barely cutting a profit day by day. For the most part, cars (or caravans, in his case) were just a means to an end, and he tried his best to ignore the talk of the blood sports that his parents so heavily warned his against. Despite his work, however, his only just provided for his parents, now both too old to do any work that turned real profit, and often food and water had to be rationed between the three of them. Worst of all, the funds necessary to buy the medicine that would keep them all sane often didn?t come together enough, and they often insisted that he be given some of their doses, which he hesitantly and with great shame took.

This inevitably led to their undoing, and while Benedict was out on a caravan run, they supposedly left their small dwellings, wandered into the wastes, and never returned. Benedict shortly sold what he could of their house and possessions, keeping only a small wooden statue of an owl that his grandfather had given his father when he was a boy, and thought long and hard what he wanted to do with his life. He didn't want to stay in this trading job forever: while the money would put food on the table and medicine in his blood, he knew that he would, ultimately, change nothing and do little of significance in his life, and also knew this went against his family's proud (if somewhat small) line.

That's when he heard about the Rush, and, more importantly, the reward at the end. With funding like that, he could kick start an entire chain of caravans; he could hire drivers and protection; he could fund caravan paths to even the furthest reaches of the plant; he could become SOMEONE. Someone with an identity, with importance, with enough money to never have to worry about his family failing apart.

He knew the stories, and knew that his limited experience would hold him back, but he determined to make it through this race alive, and more importantly, win his ticket to HIS new beginning; a beginning of success and opportunity...

Personality:
Benedict didn't get where he was by trusting others, unless those others were being paid enough to secure their loyalty, he was more comfortable in the company of himself (and Oscar, his little wooden owl good luck charm). He is slow to trust others, and quick to judge them too, though he is fairly shrewd when it comes to matters of finance. He also recognises that very few expect him to win this; indeed, as he heard it, very few new comers live to see the finish line, though he plans to use this underestimation to his advantage. While his cautious in the way business men of his class are, he is quietly confident in his and his rifle's ability to at the very least survive to see Emerald Coast.
His eyes are firmly set on the prize: every day he will wake up with the goal of the large fortune that awaits him on the other side of the continent, and with it, he will secure his future business, and in turn, make his family proud of the starting up the business that the other Mavericks couldn't.

Your vehicle:
While not the speediest of vehicles, and the fact he's not an amazing lover of cars, Benedict has to admit he?s pretty proud of the "Pack Mule." A fairly (and more than fairly old and rustic) sized RV caravan converted into a small moving fortress, Benedict favoured defence over offence. Most of the exterior has been reinforced with at least two layers of rusty and mix-matched metal and defences to withstand the invertible punishment it was going to take, as well as plenty of cover for its wheels and windows, with crude metal coverings and reinforced glass respectively. This, unfortunately, left little money left over for weapons, but he is confident in its ability to ram anything else off the road, and he?s even practiced setting it to 'auto-pilot' (essentially locking the steering wheel in place with a rather jerry-rigged frame and putting a brick on the pedal) and leaning out the window and firing with his rifle, though this leaves his car going in a straight line and puts him in considerable risk.

*Just say if there is a problem with this: I wanted to make it clear that they weren?t the first, and were just another part of the settlers moving in, but if this screws with the timeline, just say and it can be changed to better fit it, especially since his grandparent's ages are variable at this stage.

Well, if things pick up, just let me know, if you still want to do it after things pick up that is. These kind of things can take time, after all, and maybe it will get picked up on the radar at some point.

That is actually a very good sheet, which makes it twice as unfortunate that this is one non-starter that I don't think I'll be giving another round. I've got different plans for this idea now.

Never say never though, so I'd hold that thought if I were you.

 

[Baddamobs]

Definitely looks interesting, and I'll certainly being making a character (will put it up as soon as I'm done), as long as you don't mind someone who's new to this whole RP stuff (this would be the first I took part in hehehe, >_>''''')

Unfortunately, this RP was stillborn a long time ago. I'm glad you liked the concept, but in all honesty the few people who made sheets for it to begin with have probably forgotten all about it by now.

Oh, damn, really? Just finishing up the character sheet too. Well, I'll post it here anyway, if that's alright?

Spoiler

Name: Benedict "Ben" Maverick
Age: 28
Gender: male

Appearance:
He has a thin and somewhat tired demeanour, standing at 5?6, with fairly long shaggy black hair. If you're generous, his features are plain, though his unkempt beard and the starting of rings under dark brown eyes don't help matters. He is rarely seen without his grandpa's old aviator's jacket over the top of some thrown on soiled vest, though its fur collar is mostly missing, and much of the leather has been replaced and stitched rather haphazardly together, with the zip entirely missing. A faded mural of an owl in flight was once on the back of the jacket, though only one wing, part of its body, and its head is still visible; the other parts long since stitched over or lost. His dirty and patched cargo trousers' pockets are filled with odds and ends, as well as few smaller components of the engine pieces, and he always keeps a spare knife strapped to the side of his tough leather boots.

Background:
Things had started by, as things are want to do, pretty good for the Maverick family. When his grandparents had first settled on Terra Theta, roughly 180 years back*, they were a low importance business group, with a slowly but surely failing business venture back on earth, and this new venture had seemed like a good way to a new beginning of success and opportunity . For a while, it seemed to work too: they were well welcomed into their new home town of Stone Pastures, and made a fair name for themselves, alongside having the son which would become Benedict's father, and business started to look like it might once again be profitable. It was, of course, around this time that, as the locals so fondly put it, things 'went to shit.'

Now, many years down the line, Benedict (or just Ben, as he prefers) started on his winding road of life. Taught by his parents to protect himself when the time comes, including using a bolt-action hunting rifle that was practically an antique when his grandpa brought it over with him, Benedict attempted for a while to make a living from the very small inheritance he was given from his now long dead grandparents. He was into trading for a while, driving large caravans of goods from one town to the next, avoiding trouble as much as he could, and learning the ins and outs of large vehicles out of necessity when the second one he had invested in had broken down in the middle of nowhere, and he had to hike back, shame faced and now nearly penniless.

As is the Maverick's way, however, he managed to bounce back a few times, starting from the bottom of the rung of part time work, working up enough finances to start his trade route again, and just barely cutting a profit day by day. For the most part, cars (or caravans, in his case) were just a means to an end, and he tried his best to ignore the talk of the blood sports that his parents so heavily warned his against. Despite his work, however, his only just provided for his parents, now both too old to do any work that turned real profit, and often food and water had to be rationed between the three of them. Worst of all, the funds necessary to buy the medicine that would keep them all sane often didn?t come together enough, and they often insisted that he be given some of their doses, which he hesitantly and with great shame took.

This inevitably led to their undoing, and while Benedict was out on a caravan run, they supposedly left their small dwellings, wandered into the wastes, and never returned. Benedict shortly sold what he could of their house and possessions, keeping only a small wooden statue of an owl that his grandfather had given his father when he was a boy, and thought long and hard what he wanted to do with his life. He didn't want to stay in this trading job forever: while the money would put food on the table and medicine in his blood, he knew that he would, ultimately, change nothing and do little of significance in his life, and also knew this went against his family's proud (if somewhat small) line.

That's when he heard about the Rush, and, more importantly, the reward at the end. With funding like that, he could kick start an entire chain of caravans; he could hire drivers and protection; he could fund caravan paths to even the furthest reaches of the plant; he could become SOMEONE. Someone with an identity, with importance, with enough money to never have to worry about his family failing apart.

He knew the stories, and knew that his limited experience would hold him back, but he determined to make it through this race alive, and more importantly, win his ticket to HIS new beginning; a beginning of success and opportunity...

Personality:
Benedict didn't get where he was by trusting others, unless those others were being paid enough to secure their loyalty, he was more comfortable in the company of himself (and Oscar, his little wooden owl good luck charm). He is slow to trust others, and quick to judge them too, though he is fairly shrewd when it comes to matters of finance. He also recognises that very few expect him to win this; indeed, as he heard it, very few new comers live to see the finish line, though he plans to use this underestimation to his advantage. While his cautious in the way business men of his class are, he is quietly confident in his and his rifle's ability to at the very least survive to see Emerald Coast.
His eyes are firmly set on the prize: every day he will wake up with the goal of the large fortune that awaits him on the other side of the continent, and with it, he will secure his future business, and in turn, make his family proud of the starting up the business that the other Mavericks couldn't.

Your vehicle:
While not the speediest of vehicles, and the fact he's not an amazing lover of cars, Benedict has to admit he?s pretty proud of the "Pack Mule." A fairly (and more than fairly old and rustic) sized RV caravan converted into a small moving fortress, Benedict favoured defence over offence. Most of the exterior has been reinforced with at least two layers of rusty and mix-matched metal and defences to withstand the invertible punishment it was going to take, as well as plenty of cover for its wheels and windows, with crude metal coverings and reinforced glass respectively. This, unfortunately, left little money left over for weapons, but he is confident in its ability to ram anything else off the road, and he?s even practiced setting it to 'auto-pilot' (essentially locking the steering wheel in place with a rather jerry-rigged frame and putting a brick on the pedal) and leaning out the window and firing with his rifle, though this leaves his car going in a straight line and puts him in considerable risk.

*Just say if there is a problem with this: I wanted to make it clear that they weren?t the first, and were just another part of the settlers moving in, but if this screws with the timeline, just say and it can be changed to better fit it, especially since his grandparent's ages are variable at this stage.

Well, if things pick up, just let me know, if you still want to do it after things pick up that is. These kind of things can take time, after all, and maybe it will get picked up on the radar at some point.

That is actually a very good sheet, which makes it twice as unfortunate that this is one non-starter that I don't think I'll be giving another round. I've got different plans for this idea now.

Never say never though, so I'd hold that thought if I were you.

Haha, thanks xD. Yea, I'll hold onto it, and if all else fails, I can always shift good ol' Ben around to maybe some other RP's if I edited his sheet enough. In any case, good luck in your future endeavours, and I hope to see you in another place and another time, and (if the examples of other RP's I've seen are anything to go by) probably another galaxy...