This roleplay is rated M for the following: Possible Violence, Possible Language, Possible Blood and Gore, Possible Alcohol Usage, Potential Sexual or Suggestive Themes
There's an old black train a-coming
Scraping along the iron
You don't need no ticket boys
It will take you when its time
New Tanner A fictionalised version of Montana,
March 4th, 1899. The age of Cowboys and Outlaws is coming to a end. Industry and Civilization now race to claim the land instead.
About
So then, about this one.
This RP will take place within the made up(ish) state of New Tanner.
This is a Western, there's little you'll see here that argues it otherwise. However, it is a Western, with a twist. With this one, I wanted to combine all the fun and freedom of the Cowboys and Outlaws of yore, with a bit of that good old fashioned and relatively rare gothic Americana superstition and folklore.
This RP is heavily inspired by the recent Western revival we all seem to be going through. But as I said, it is still a bit of a mish-mash. But basically, if it has a cowboy hat, or is set in America before the 1900s, it's legal tender. I have personally based the themes and narratives of this RP off of ideas from both Red Dead Redemptions, Over the Garden Wall, and The Ballad of Buster Scruggs if that's of any help.
Before I say anything more about the plot of this RP, I need to make one thing clear.
Your character, should have died.
They should be dead by now.
You don't have to tell or explain to me how they should have died. But certainly keep the thought under your hat for now. I want you to know how your character should, have died. Were they sick? Maybe they just got into a fight? It doesn't have to be that dramatic, and maybe it'll be clear to everyone else how they should have died once the RP gets going. For example, I'm pretty sure most of you will guess how my main man should have popped his clogs as soon as I get going in the IC, but for now, I just want you to have the reason in your head at the very least. It might be clear as day to us in the real world, but in the IC, characters will remain oblivious.
Plot
Now with regards to the plot.
Our characters are going to find each other, and group together under the guise of undergoing a gold-mining expedition. But, after a certain, problem, makes itself know, those plans get put to one side. And the characters must undergo a journey through New tanner to reach Albertsland (Our fictionalised made up version of Canada).
This is what our characters will believe at least.
But between you and me, lets just say it's a journey of much more... purgatorial, measures.
Along the way, they'll encounter various supernatural creatures, strange people, and generally strange situations. So I suppose it's your typical Heroes Journey sort of narrative really, but more depressing.
And with Ghosts.
Rules
1) No godmodding straight into the IC please. If you've got an idea just run it by me first so we can check it fits in ok and everything.
2) I don't have a particular posting requirement, as I understand that it can sometimes be difficult to get posts in to an adequate length and quality. But if you wouldn't mind writing up some stuff when we need you to just so we don't get held up at all.
3) Try and make your characters unique in some way or form and different from others you see within the RP. I personally figured, if our characters are initially grouping together under the guise of a gold mining expedition, then they could feesibly be from any race, background, disposition or moral standing. An outlaw would wanna get rich juts as much as say, an old farmer for example. So make sure they're varied, but still solid. And if their is anything you're unsure of, just let me know.
4) I understand things I've said may be confusing or unclear so I cannot stress enough that I'm more than happy to discuss and answer anything you wanna say to me. Seriously, if anything, I'm eagerly waiting for discussion.
5) Have fun... OR ELSE.
Character Sheet
Name: What's the name your character will give themselves. Is it their real name, or perhaps they go by an alias for some reason?
Age: I'm gonna say no younger than 18 with this one please.
Gender: As it implies honestly.
Place of Birth: America was an increasingly diverse place at this point, so your character doesn't necessarily have to be from the States.
Appearance: A decent description and/or picture will do here please. Be aware of the time period though I suppose. I doubt people were really running around with blue hair and septum piercings back then.
Profession: Past, present or future. Have they ever even had a job? Maybe they're currently training to be a certain something at the moment. I've made this a thing as , I'd argue a persons line of work more often than not would directly link into what sort of skill set they'd have. For example, a blacksmith would be good at making things. A poacher would be a good tracker, etc. Or they could just be a lazy bum that sits on their arse all day I don't know.
History: You can make this as long or short as you want. However, I need this part to clearly define who exactly your character is. What events made them the person they are now.What has their life, up to this point, made them into?
Equipment: What they got on 'em? Weaponry, just useful tools? This can be anything from a lucky horseshoe, to just, well, nothing I guess.
Horse: Your character will most likely need one of these, if not to ride directly then at least to pull a wagon. But if you think it'd be out of character for your person to have a Horse, I'm sure they can share with one of the others.
And Now, a little Disclaimer
I am English, not American.
Therefore, I'm aware I am coming at this with the complete perspective of an absolute outsider. So I do beg pardon if I get things wrong, over or under-estimate certain aspects or just generally mess up here and there. Feel free to educate me whenever I'm wrong haha.
Last edited by BumblingBee; 02-23-2019 at 05:39 PM.
The last mosquito that bit me had to check into the Betty Ford clinic
Burdock 'Birdie' Wilson
Although that's probably not quite right if we're being honest here. I mean, Burdock, really?
Burdock was born on the 3rd of May, Yellowridge New Tanner, 1857, making the man 41 years of age.
He's a big old lumbering thing, standing at around 6'3", with a broad stocky frame to match it. Age has weathered him, as it does all things. But a life as lively as his has kept him in relatively decent shape. he ain't tuning senile yet at the very least. That said, maybe he isn't quite as on the mark as he once may have used to be? It's hard to say.
Profession
What an interesting term for such a man as Burdock Wilson.
He was an apprentice to a banker for about nine days, and that's the only respectable line of work he's ever really had.
From a young age, Burdock's lived outside of the law. The names of what he did might have changed, Rustler, Gun for hire, Drifter, Bounty Hunter, Robber, Highwayman and even at one point a Debt Collector, but the goal always remained mainly the same.
Get money, and don't die.
History
Burdock's Father was a soldier in the Civil War, fighting on the Confederate side. As you've probably guessed, he wasn't that successful, and he died when Burdock was four. His Mother, grief-stricken and
struggling to provide, died in 1867, when Burdock was 10. Burdock will tell you himself that she just got sick. But the thing is, he fails to elaborate how and of what she died of specifically. Truth is, she died of Syphilis. Poor woman hired herself out as a prostitute in her later years, to provide for her son, and as a result, she died. Wilson doesn't really seem to be a feeling sort of man, or at least that's the image he'll present. And yet, he'll either lie, or just won't talk about the death of his Mother. Interesting, isn't it.
But anyway, in the summer of 1867 upon the passing of his Mother, Burdock did in fact manage to secure himself a apprenticeship at the bank in his home town of Yellowridge, but as previously mentioned, the job didn't last too long. He was smart with is numbers, just had that sort of mind for it, still does really. But as he was sat there in a stuffy little building, behind a dark little desk, surrounded by stuffy little people, he began to debate his future prospects. And then, like manna from Heaven, his salvation walked right through that banks door. A gang of Outlaws had decided to rob the bank of Yellowridge. An our young little Birdie took one look at them, and gave them the safe combination right there and then for the promise that he could ride with them from that day on.
And so he did.
And from there, I' sure you can imagine the sort of life our young Mr. Wilson lead. General criminality and debauchery all around. Mischief and violence, leading ever downwards towards an inevitable end of manic gunfire. Or it would have been, if he hadn't have met Connie.
Constance Colliery was the result of a former slaver getting a little too personal with the stock. I'm sure you can imagine for yourself how unpleasant her childhood was. But, luckily, the girl managed to escape in her early teens, and for a while she wandered aimlessly through New Tanner. Just making ends meet. She rocked in with Burdocks lot around the fall of 1878, and by Spring the next year, the two were both madly, devotedly in love. They were the best years of his life, and the man longs for them back desperately. For they are long gone now.
Connie got Consumption in 1891. Burdock had to watch her die, and he could do nothing about it. He was pretty sure he didn't really want to keep on living without her, but the gang, aware of his usefulness more than his sorrow, persuaded him to keep living. And so he did. But only just abouts.
Equipment
An outlaw like Old Burdock, as you might imagine, carries a relatively decent array of weaponry with him. Regarding firearms, he carries a double-action revolver and a sawn-off shotgun. He also carries his Fathers civil-war knife, which he uses for both practical purposes and more murderous-type ones. Otherwise, he personally travels light.
Spoiler: Horse
Horse
Burdock's Horse is called Hudson
He's a draft crossbreed, and it shows. Stocky like a shire, but with the dexterity of a riding horse. The two have rode together for a while now, with Burdock often claiming Hudson is his only pal left from 'the good 'ol days'.
Spoiler: Robin Bromley - Bumbling Bee
Robin 'Rob' 'Robbie' 'Bob' 'Bobbie' Bromley Jeez, how many nicknames does one girl need.
Robin was born on November the 29th, Bolton England, 1876, making her 22 yeas old.
So don't let that babyface fool you.
Robin's tall, but only for a girl. She's around 5'11", and she's sort of stocky? But maybe that's just her height making her look bigger than she is. She dresses like a man half the time, wearing trousers and suspenders like its nobodies business, so who knows what sort of feminine figure is hiding under there honestly.
Profession
Robin comes from a family of miners, and was set to be one herself. But working down a pit is a horrifically hardy job to do. And Bobbie didn't much like the look of it in all honesty. So she came to America, seeking her fortune and that famous dream everyone keeps talking about.
History
Robin is the youngest in her rather large family. There's seven children altogether, Four boys and three girls, herself included. The order of the Bromley siblings goes as follows: Tom, John, Susie, George, Ava, Wren, Robin. It seems Mrs. Bromley gained a liking for birds during the latter of her child bearing years.
Mr. Bromley was a miner, working at Ladyshore Colliery in Lancashire. Poor sod died from Black Lung (Pneumoconiosis) twelve days before Robin was born. So Christmas is never really a particularly enjoyable time for the family. But it wasn't all doom and gloom, for her Mother, Mary, was made of tough stuff. She raised all seven of those children by herself, and was everything a good Mother should be.
Yet despite all that, all of her children gradually left her. Now, I'm not badmouthing the Bromley children here, goodness me no. However, that's just the way things were. There’s a four year gap between Robin and Wren, her closest sibling by age. And after that, her brothers and sisters become increasingly older than her. So most of them were simply beginning to get on with their own lives by the time Robin was just starting hers.
Mother Mary got black lung when Robin was eighteen. She cared for her for a whole year. Stayed by her side, just the two of them in what was once a family home. Until she too died. It was 1896. Robin suddenly found herself completely and utterly left to her own devices. A independent woman in Victorian England. Ultimately a rare, and unwanted species. The pits lurked within the possibilities of her future, a future Robin did not want at all. So, she just left.
Taking the money her mother had bequeathed to her, Robin boarded a boat for America, and began her travels. In the three or so years she has spent wandering the American wilderness, Bobbie's picked up a handful of useful skills. Sharpshootin' included.
Spoiler: Horse
Horse:
Robin's Horse is a Palomino American Paint called Canary.
And just how she comes to acquire this horse shall be explained within the first IC post, so I shan't spoil it here,
Last edited by BumblingBee; 02-23-2019 at 09:19 PM.
The last mosquito that bit me had to check into the Betty Ford clinic
I would rather have a russet coated Captain who knows what he fights for and loves what he knows, than he who calls himself a gentleman and is but little else
-Oliver Cromwell
War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse.
-John Stuart Mill
There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare.
-Sun Tzu
Ten soldiers wisely led will beat a hundred without a head.
-Euripides
It seems like such a terrible shame that innocent civilians have to get hurt in wars, otherwise combat would be such a wonderfully healthy way to rid the human race of unneeded trash.
-Fred Woodworth
It is our duty still to endeavor to avoid war; but if it shall actually take place, no matter by whom brought on, we must defend ourselves. If our house be on fire, without inquiring whether it was fired from within or without, we must try to extinguish it.
-Thomas Jefferson
If a man dedicates his life to good deeds and the welfare of others, he will die unthanked and unremembered. If he exercises his genius bringing misery and death to billions, his name will echo down through the millennia for a hundred lifetimes. Infamy is always more preferable to ignominy.
-Fabius Bile
Spoiler: Thoughts of the day
A broad mind lacks focus.
A questioning servant is more dangerous than an ignorant heretic
A small mind is easily filled with faith.
A warrior's faith in his commander is his best armour and his strongest weapon.
Adamantium walls and plasteel bulkheads may seem formidable, but an unshakable faith in the Immortal Emperor of Man can overcome any barriers.
An Empty Mind Is A Loyal Mind
An open mind is like a fortress with its gate unbarred and unguarded.
Better crippled in body than corrupt in mind.
Consider the Predator. Let your soul be armoured with Faith, driven on the tracks of Obedience which overcome all obstacles, and armed with the three great guns of Zeal, Duty and Purity.
Facts are chains that bind perception and fetter truth. For a man can remake the world if he has a dream and no facts to cloud his mind.
Faith without deeds is worthless.
Happiness is a delusion of the weak
Forgiveness is a sign of weakness.
He who lives for nothing is nothing. He who dies for the Emperor is a hero.
If a man dies that another should live, that man's spirit shall eat at the Emperor's table
Innocence proves nothing
It is better to die for the Emperor than to live for yourself.
Leniency is a sign of weakness!
Mercy is a sign of weakness.
No man that died in the Emperor's service died in vain.
Nobody is innocent, there are merely varying levels of guilt.
Only in death does duty end.
Only the insane have strength enough to prosper. Only those who prosper may truly judge what is sane.
Pain is an illusion of the senses, despair an illusion of the mind
Purge those who are unclean.
Sometimes the good must perish so that the rest survive. The lot of courage is to be sacrificed upon the altar of battle.
Survival is no birthright, but a prize wrested from an uncaring galaxy by forgotten heroes.
The common man is like a worm in the gut of a corpse, trapped inside a prison of cold flesh, helpless and uncaring, unaware even of the inevitability of its own doom.
The Emperor will not judge you by your medals and diplomas but by your scars.
Though silver in your palms weighs light
Compared to death by blast and sword,
Do not shy the hopeless fight,
For endeavour is its own reward.
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Appearance: Yukawa wears his hair tied up, has no facial hair, and calculating eyes. He wears the armor of the Samurai, and underneath that, some simple robes. https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl...act=mrc&uact=8
Profession: Samurai, though in America he farms potatoes.
History: Yukawa was born in Japan, and thrust into the Meiji Restoration, when Japan was busy modernizing itself, and was quickly trained as a Samurai. He lived in Japan for most of his life, but eventually made his way to America. He's lived in New Tanner a while, and has a pretty good grasp of English, though slang is not his strong suit.
Equipment: A Katana.
Horse: A white horse named Daigo.
Last edited by Yggdrasil_Hugger; 02-27-2019 at 01:22 PM.
Here she is! Let me know if there's anything I need to change or add.
Spoiler: Scarlett
Name: Maybelle Cooley was her married name, Maybelle Thompson her maiden name. Now she goes by Scarlett.
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Place of Birth: America. More specifically a few towns South of New Tanner.
Spoiler: Appearance
Profession: When she was younger she would help her father out on the farm. She was then married off to a wealthy man and took on the role of doting housewife.
History: The year of 1877 was a hard one for the Thompson family, with the death of Maybelle’s mother starting it all. Her mother, Susannah, passed away to due complications after giving birth. After her mother died, half the cattle fell to some disease making money very tight. The crop harvest was enough to tide them over and buy new cattle by the end of the year and things resumed as normal.
As soon as she was old enough Maybelle was working along side her father and the other farm hands. Tending to cattle, building chicken coops, harvesting, and what have you. Being one of the few females that worked on a farm set Maybelle apart from the other girls in town. She learned how to build things with her bare hands, not take shit from anyone, tend to animals and problem solve. While Clyde was proud of the woman Maybelle was becoming, he knew she still needed that female role in her life. So, he turned to their neighbor, Abigail, to help raise his daughter. Abigail showed Maybelle how to act and dress as a woman should and also shared some of her cooking recipes.
When Maybelle became of age she had many male suitors and she enjoyed it. Lucky for her the richest man in town had eyes for only her and he made it very clear he had intentions of marrying her. Mr. Wyatt Cooley owned all the bars in town, a horse racing track and had other business ventures under the table. He was the number one bachelor in town, every girl wanted him and every guy wanted to be him. Maybelle and Wyatt were only together a short time before they decided to get married, in grand fashion of course.
A few weeks after the wedding Clyde died from cholera. Maybelle's world collapsed and withdrew into herself. It was like someone blew out the candle lit inside of her. Instead of focusing on his grieving wife, Wyatt made moves to have the farm put under his name. He hired more farm hands and made his wife quit working which only seemed to make Maybelle’s mood worse. At least working on the farm gave her a little piece of her father and she got to be around all the animals. Now she forced to stay inside and cook, clean and look pretty for her husband. It was like a switch flipped inside Wyatt after Clyde died. He went for the charming husband to the abusive kind. He had a very short temper and the slightest thing would throw him into a rage. Hiding the bruises became apart of her daily routine. She had lost her father, her farm and now she lost the husband she thought she had.
When she became pregnant she was sure his nature would change for the baby that was growing inside her. There was no way he would warm the woman giving life to his future child. Or so she thought. One night he came stumbling back from the bar and was in a mood. He kept trying to initiate sex, but Maybelle was feeling nauseous and refused. This enraged the drunk Wyatt and he proceeded to beat the living shit out her. After pushing her down the stairs he stumbled over to her and spat words of hate in her face. He gave her a swift kick in the stomach before turning her over to take advantage of her in her weakened state. When he saw the blood coming from in-between her legs he groaned in disgust and decided to go to bed.
Losing the baby was the final straw for her. Maybelle decided she could no longer tolerate such a hateful man. So, one night she slipped a little something extra in his evening whiskey and watched him slip away. Maybelle grabbed what she could carry and took off on her house. She rode until her horse couldn’t carry her anymore and that’s when they came upon New Tanner. A new life called for a new name, she didn't want anyone to find out what she did.
Scarlett found a place for her to stay and convinced the old farmer to let her work for small pay. A bit of her light is coming back, that old spark she used to have.
Equipment: Revolver and a few knives.
Spoiler: Daisy
Salty; Oh really? What part?
Last edited by The Texan Queen; 02-27-2019 at 07:25 PM.
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