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Post by NightBlade on Jan 12, 2016 12:40:21 GMT
(So I'm assuming this is early 1920 before Prohibition?) (Sorry guys I'll try again to get a character out but classes start today)
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Post by jliessa44 on Jan 12, 2016 13:46:06 GMT
((Well, the Volstead Act was actually passed in October of 1919. It didn't come into effect until January 1920, I believe it was the seventeenth. Fun fact, only a couple hours into the act, a group of guys stole a ton of booze that had been set aside for medicinal purposes. This could be in the early days though, since they didn't have a large number of Prohibition agents in the beginning.) Malachi slapped his hat back on and nodded, heading over to the car. He gave his sister another warning look as she moved out to stand guard,
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Post by WookieeElf on Jan 12, 2016 13:58:55 GMT
((Quick something before work))
"Pay-puhs, get ya pay-puhs 'ere!" Aine waved the newspaper at people who walked past, a whole bundle under her arm. Gotta sell these or else my head's on the line. She thought with a small scowl. Raising her voice, she tried to get attention.
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Post by jliessa44 on Jan 12, 2016 14:11:37 GMT
Merlin slipped through the crowd, picking pockets with a deft hand. Sure it'd never been something he liked to do, it was too much risk and too little pay off, but he needed the cash. Putting every spare cent he had into paying of Harlow's debt left him near a begger.
Perhaps it was the sudden feeling of wealth, or maybe he was just still high off the adrenaline rush, but he stopped to buy a paper from the poor newsie. He hadn't ever had to rely on the papers for income, but he'd been poor enough that he had sympathy for those who did.
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Post by NightBlade on Jan 12, 2016 15:45:40 GMT
(Hi ho, here comes my Chicago charrie!)
-Name: Oscar T. Anderson. T is for Thomas but nobody is allowed to know that. Professional title is strictly, exactly "Oscar T". -Gender, Age: Male, 33 -Appearance: Oscar falls just short of 5'8" and is fairly burly for his stature. He wears a brown Scot's bonnet over his strawberry blonde hair, always kept trimmed short. His eyebrows are very light and merely highlight his normally-scowling brow and narrow hazel eyes. His face is a bit round and almost boyish, but with pronounced Scottish cheekbones. He wears a plain and lightly weathered brown vest and trousers with any various plaid shirt, and moderately-shined brown shoes. He almost always has a pipe clamped in his mouth, or a cigar if he's had good business lately. -Personality: Years ago as a young man, Oscar was a successful casino character who wanted to experience "real" gaming and excitement on the streets of Chicago. He is now a slave of his own clan of crime, and every year of stopping lower has made him harder and colder. Now he is all this; a thief, a smuggler, a murderer...but somehow, he still has a heart inside of him and he has no idea what to do with it. -Weapons/Equipment/Personal Effects: A CZ96 broomhandle Mauser hides in his waistband beneath his vest. A six-inch switchblade and a brass knuckleduster sitreadily in his pockets. A small notebook is in his vest with numbers and names, some of which are scribbled out. He also keeps on his person a deck of cards, a gold flipping coin, and a supply of cash, bullets, and Scottish Moors pipe tobacco. -Skills/Weaknesses: Oscar has a very sharp and shifty mind, and he is always mentally on his toes. He knows how to dodge trouble and he knows how to deal any trouble he can't dodge. He has learned to cheat, lie and fight his way to success, but he can't talk or buy it to save his life. He's focused, but confused; directionless and listless, feeling a gnawing lack of satisfaction in all his exploits. He likes a man who looks to be a tough but profitable deal, but despite how much he talks about them he is absolutely terrified of women. They are sly, seductive dictators in disguise--the whole lot of them. -History: See personality. To be developed.
Oscar tramped down the street aimlessly and pensively, staring ahead intently at nothing. On an absent whim he snatched a newspaper from the kid and dropped them a random handful of change.
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Post by WookieeElf on Jan 12, 2016 15:54:28 GMT
Aine gave the first man who bought a paper a smile, then scowled at the second who nearly tore the newspaper in half. "Ey, careful next time, these things ain't cheap!"
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Post by NightBlade on Jan 12, 2016 16:08:16 GMT
Giving a huff through his pipe, Oscar gave a scowling half-glance backwards and continued on his way, but then sudeenly seemed to decide that he wanted a different street and turned the corner after the first fellow who bought a paper.
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Post by WookieeElf on Jan 12, 2016 16:15:28 GMT
"Be thankful you paid good, you stuck up little..." Aine huffed, gathering up the coins. Stuffing them in her pocket, she went back to harassing the passing crowd of people.
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Post by Lylyss on Jan 12, 2016 18:16:43 GMT
((Well, the Volstead Act was actually passed in October of 1919. It didn't come into effect until January 1920, I believe it was the seventeenth. Fun fact, only a couple hours into the act, a group of guys stole a ton of booze that had been set aside for medicinal purposes. :) This could be in the early days though, since they didn't have a large number of Prohibition agents in the beginning.) Malachi slapped his hat back on and nodded, heading over to the car. He gave his sister another warning look as she moved out to stand guard, Madeline marched over to the car, popped the trunk, and peered inside. Everything seemed to be in order. Correct amount of whisky, anyway. But you never could be too careful with bootlegged liquor. Some moonshiners dilluted their booze with rubbing alcohol, and her speakeasy's reputation hinged upon quality product. "I want to trust you. Honestly. I do. But since this is our first time doing business, I'm going to need some sort of guarantee that you're not selling a bucket of poison." ((I hope nobody sees my google searches right now... "how to build a moonshine still," "vermouth," "vodka," "martini ingredients." xP))
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Post by CNGoodhue on Jan 12, 2016 18:42:14 GMT
((This 1920s RP is going to be good...mwahaha.
Name: Jack Armwale Pronunciation: ja-ck arm-wahl Gender: Male Age: 16 Occupation: Newsie Description: 5'8" average build. Square-ish jaw. Shaggy dark-brown hair. Blue eyes. Personality: We'll see how his personality turns out. My characters tend to write themselves, lol. History: As he comes from a poor family, he started working as a newsie at age 12 to help his parents with whatever little money he earned. Jack's had some experience with getting into fights on the street, most times only in self-defense but other times when there's some loose coin lying around. Weapons: Fists. He keeps his grandfather's pocket-knife with him everywhere he goes - usually not to defend himself with or anything, though. Clothing: Ragged dirty vanilla shirt, old brown trousers and nearly worn shoes. Abilities: None. Weaknesses: Short temper; fragile confidence; his left arm is currently broken, so he wears a makeshift cast.))
Jack pushed through the busy crowd shouting the same things over and over again at the top of his lungs. "Extrah, extrah! Get the latest on Prohibition!" He swore to himself. No one's got any sympathy these days. As Jack emerged from the crowd, he saw Aine, a dirt-covered newsie standing on the corner try to sell her papers. Competition. "Hey Aine," he yelled. "You got any luck?"
((I have an idea for another character, this time a gang member. WHO WANTS TO STIR UP THIS CROWD WITH ME?! xD Pull out some tommys and raid the liquor store. >:D))
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Post by WookieeElf on Jan 12, 2016 18:57:23 GMT
"Jack, this here's my corner, go finds yourself another!" Aine ground her teeth together, then waved the kid over. "C'mere."
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Post by NightBlade on Jan 12, 2016 19:02:34 GMT
((This 1920s RP is going to be good...mwahaha. Name: Jack Armwale Pronunciation: ja-ck arm-wahl Gender: Male Age: 16 Occupation: Newsie Description: 5'8" average build. Square-ish jaw. Shaggy dark-brown hair. Blue eyes. Personality: We'll see how his personality turns out. My characters tend to write themselves, lol. History: As he comes from a poor family, he started working as a newsie at age 12 to help his parents with whatever little money he earned. Jack's had some experience with getting into fights on the street, most times only in self-defense but other times when there's some loose coin lying around. Weapons: Fists. He keeps his grandfather's pocket-knife with him everywhere he goes - usually not to defend himself with or anything, though. Clothing: Ragged dirty vanilla shirt, old brown trousers and nearly worn shoes. Abilities: None. Weaknesses: Short temper; fragile confidence; his left arm is currently broken, so he wears a makeshift cast.)) Jack pushed through the busy crowd shouting the same things over and over again at the top of his lungs. "Extrah, extrah! Get the latest on Prohibition!" He swore to himself. No one's got any sympathy these days.As Jack emerged from the crowd, he saw Aine, a dirt-covered newsie standing on the corner try to sell her papers. Competition. "Hey Aine," he yelled. "You got any luck?" ((I have an idea for another character, this time a gang member. WHO WANTS TO STIR UP THIS CROWD WITH ME?! xD Pull out some tommys and raid the liquor store. )) (Oscar might orchestrate something like that if he has an associate willing to do some dirty work )
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Post by CNGoodhue on Jan 12, 2016 19:05:33 GMT
As he walked over to Aine, someone jerked away a newspaper from Jack's arm and tossed him a couple nickels. When Jack looked up, the man spit at his shoes and disappeared into the crowd. Wasn't the first time it'd happened, people were rude 'round here. Jack ignored the saliva soaking into his shoe and stepped over to Aine. "Whadd'ya want?" (( NightBlade Mwahaha. I gotta go finish up this bit of school I've got left then we can work something out. Later guys.))
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Post by WookieeElf on Jan 12, 2016 19:09:55 GMT
"Just a second." Aine picked up a rock and, with surprisingly good aim, hit the guy who had spat on Jack in the back of the head. Before he could turn and see who had hit him, she was facing Jack again, taking a couple of his newspapers. "I need extra. Here." Aine pressed some coins into his hand—more than what she should've paid for the papers. "Nicky's out with the flu, so his corner should be open, if you wanna try there. It's just down the block, and he usually gets a good haul."
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Post by gamemastergrimwarden on Jan 12, 2016 19:23:54 GMT
Three men stood at the far end of the alleyway, faces shaded by brimmed hats, black coats trailing to the ground. Staring at the speak-easy owner, Madeline, and her suppliers.
(( I will oh-so-desperately try to keep up with this RP, 'cause it looks like it's gonna be awesome, but you guys know how I am about these XD ))
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Post by Starsinger on Jan 12, 2016 19:24:08 GMT
((I'll be home in a few days, and I'll have a character up for the 1920's then an see how that goes. I don't want to take on too much because I'll be needing to spend most of my time looking for jobs, or, failing that, stoclpiling paintings and trying to sell them.))
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Post by Aviar Goldeneagle on Jan 12, 2016 20:32:15 GMT
Milton fingered the gun in his pocket, trying to figure out what the best way to get information about the bootleggers supplying Madeline would be. Should he walk up and try to talk to them? Should he sneak up and try to listen? Should he go round to the front of the speakeasy and pretend he was a men's normal customer and then ask Madeline some questions?
A slight sound--the shuffling of feet--caught his ears. Turning slightly he stared across the street. Three dark outlines stood there, three people, their bodies almost invisible in the shadows.
Milton stood still and pressed against the wall. Who were they? What were they doing? Had they seen him?
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Post by Alvar on Jan 12, 2016 22:29:08 GMT
((Well, this is going amazingly. I'll try to get a charrie up for the Old West plot later. I'll probably try to join the 1920's one later on.))
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Post by gamemastergrimwarden on Jan 13, 2016 0:01:51 GMT
One of the men started toward Madeline in a determined stride. "Hey!" He called, a hand slipping into his jacket, "you's guys need some help with those boxes?"
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Post by jliessa44 on Jan 13, 2016 0:08:55 GMT
Merlin leaned against a building as he skimmed through the news. Not much going on, still a lot of cheering going on over the victory of Prohibition. Annoying, but at least they felt like they'd changed the world for the better. The world needed more better. -------
Malachi shrugged. "I suppose you could-"
He broke off to stare at the man who threatened him. Before he could stop her, Daze fired off a few shots at the man, and then more at the people behind him.
Cursing so bad his poor Ma would have a conniption, Malachi held his flat cap on his head and pulled Madeline out of the line of fire. His next job would be getting his sister free and clear, near impossible since Daze hated to leave a fight unfinished.
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Post by Aviar Goldeneagle on Jan 13, 2016 0:34:47 GMT
Milton watched from the shadows as one of the three men stepped forward towards the car and called out.
Gunfire burst out from the figure standing next to vehicle and Milton jumped. He peered into the darkness trying to make out if anyone had been hit.
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Post by NightBlade on Jan 13, 2016 0:43:50 GMT
"What in the..." After shots rang out, Oscar hurried to the edge of the block and peered around it even as the dust kicked up by the bullets was floating off the street. Three men, backs towards him, appeared to be under fire by...a car?
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Post by WookieeElf on Jan 13, 2016 0:45:55 GMT
"Look out!" Aine grabbed Jack and pulled him away from the firefight and around the corner, ignoring the man who was already there—it was the one who nearly tore the newspaper in half. "Y'all right, kid?" She asked, checking him over.
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Post by gamemastergrimwarden on Jan 13, 2016 2:21:17 GMT
The man was blasted through the air, landing in a lifeless heap on the pavement, a pistol clattering from his hand. Without a word, the other two men ducked into cover. Clear flashes and bangs sounded up the alleyway as they returned a spray of bullets.
(( Well, this escalated quickly XD ))
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Post by Lylyss on Jan 13, 2016 2:25:45 GMT
Madeline screamed, then reproached herself. Such a girlish thing to do. She crouched behind the car, panting hard, and tried to weigh the situation. Who were these people? Thugs? Policemen? In a way, it didn't matter. Right now her priority was getting out alive. Why did I leave my revolver under the bar...? She could make a break for the speakeasy. Grab her gun. Reappear in a blast of bullets and powder. But the kitchen door seemed awfully far away... Madeline was marooned behind the car. She cursed, then reproached herself. Got to be proactive. "There's no point. Your girl can't kill them all by herself." Madeline shouted above the gunfire, hoping the bootlegger would hear. "Get in the car. Drive." She opened the side-door and crawled into the backseat.
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Post by CNGoodhue on Jan 13, 2016 2:38:51 GMT
Several pops of gunfire accompanied the cries of panicked civilians in the stiff morning air. "I'm alright!" Jack shouted back to Aine, his voice a mix of fear and curiosity. A few unfavorable scenarios rushed through his head as the chaos continued. "What the devil is going on?"
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Post by NightBlade on Jan 13, 2016 2:51:10 GMT
Oscar scowled. These were not his thugs and they were on his street, and that over there was booze. Booze was business. He made his choice. As the thugs took cover right in front of him, the switchblade slid open one hand and the Mauser came out in the other. The switchblade went into the back of the nearest thug's neck. The Mauser spit lead at the other one.
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Post by WookieeElf on Jan 13, 2016 2:53:31 GMT
Aine saw Oscar advance with the switchblade and gun, and she let out a hoarse scream as two men fell dead. "Run!" She pushed Jack down the road, away from the fight, making sure he was in front of her as they fled.
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Post by jliessa44 on Jan 13, 2016 3:13:01 GMT
((I did warn you she was trigger happy...))
Malachi nodded, and seeing that the girl was okay he dashed for the driver's seat. "Daze get yourself in the car now."
Daze fired off another few shots, and then swearing worse than a sailor, she jumped into the car. Other people were getting involved, and the last thing she needed was to be there when the police arrived. She'd barely slammed the car door shut before Malachi had taken off at nearly thirty miles per hour. "Who's the dame?"
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Post by Lylyss on Jan 13, 2016 3:22:02 GMT
((I did warn you she was trigger happy...)) Malachi nodded, and seeing that the girl was okay he dashed for the driver's seat. "Daze get yourself in the car now." Daze fired off another few shots, and then swearing worse than a sailor, she jumped into the car. Other people were getting involved, and the last thing she needed was to be there when the police arrived. She'd barely slammed the car door shut before Malachi had taken off at nearly thirty miles per hour. "Who's the dame?" Madeline braced herself against the front seats. "Introductions can wait. Drive drive drive."
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