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THE WILD MEN OF WICHITA: A GANG RP OF APOCALYPTIC PROPORTIONS



"The year is 1971.
A little over fourty years ago the world as we knew it was destroyed.
It wasn't from some second great war. No meteor. No alien invasion.
No, it was just another Spanish Flu, and an economic collapse that did in thousands of years of civilization...but only for a moment.
Over the years humanity rebuilt, reformed their old societies, or made new ones.
Out here in the plains, we've built a way of life like no other. Big ass gangs gettin enough protection from all these hicks and their inbred families, and shooting up the ones that don't wanna pay. We fuck up all the shithead posers that want to cash in on our "clients", and the big cities fund it all, cuz they know at the end of the day we always head over there to drink and fuck after a hard day's ride.
It ain't so bad once you get used to it, and it's about the only life I've ever known. But out east they're talking about all the bigwigs getting together and tryin to make the world like it used to be, calling themselves the United States of North America, like the America there used to be before that plague and shit. I don't worry, though. We beat those pansy Texans we can beat em easy. Long as big boss Rufus Luckett is on the case. He took me in when I was nothin, raised me like his own. Now I've got my own gang, working for him. Call ourselves the "Wild Men of Wichita". Not very catchey, I know, but I can always change it. Cuz I'm the boss, see? And around here we do it my way. So wadda ya think, tough guy? Think you got what it takes to be a Wild Man?"

Wild Men of Wichita is a post-apocalyptic RP set in a world that suffered a major civilizational collapse in the late 1920s. Although humanity has long since started to rebuild, there are some places still untamed. The Great Plains of North America is one such region. Where roving bands of raiders slowly conglomerates into syndicates big enough and with enough sway to be khanates of their own, they ride on horseback to collect their dues in valuables or in blood. Their regular fighting has long driven off any attempt to civilize the region, but now that the east is united under a single flag, and with the west doing similar, can this way of life last long? As a member of a small outfit under the suzerainty of one such syndicate, you must find that out for yourself. Although every day is a struggle to keep one's head above the water, lord only knows how much tougher it's going to get. Going forward your behavior and actions will make or break the future of this gang, and maybe your whole way of life...

Unfiltered and Unedited Lore dump if you want a gist of the setting

Imagine that in the late 20s, when the great depression was almost upon the world, a pandemic broke out of epic proportions. The spanish flu, which had been mostly dormant for nearly a decade, struck again deadlier and more infectious. The economic shock would trigger the depression early, and the nations of the world would begin to collapse.
Without a functioning economy and with almost neverending death and disease, society as a whole is torn to shreds and the fundamental building blocks of countries and civilizations cease to exist.

Eventually, the pandemic does end, but it leaves behind a devastated world that hardly resembles what came before. Almost no pre-outbreak government survived. They have all either become nonexistant or incapable of governing what was once their territory, leaving space for new countries and societies to rise. Countries like the League of St. Lawrence, a Quebecois state that would end up dominating not only Quebec but Ontario, the American Northeast and upper Midwest and even extending as far west as Winnipeg. Eventually though it would be felled by an alliance of two eastern American states: The Federal Government which controlled the rest of the eastern coast down to the Florida panhandle, and the Union Redevelopment Corporation, a massive Trade Syndicate that effectively took control of the American midwest and upper south. After their spat with the League, they jointly occupied Canada. This would be less of a fruitful enterprise for both and more of an ultimate battlefield where the two would form a de facto rivalry over control of the new lands. Ulimately the Feds would win by releasing ultranationalist terrorists for both Anglo and Quebecois communities in Canada to fight each other and the URC, driving them to bankrupcy and allowing the US the casus belli it needed to take full control of all territories and form the United States of North America. Now it sets its sights on the untamed west, where thuggish horseback raiders, independent agriculturalists, and a depleted Republic of Texas fight against each other.
Most of the story would take place following the massive developments in the east coast I described, which happened in the 60s, some 40 years after the collapse. These developments inevitably would drive those disaffected or displaced out of what would become the USNA. The main direction these people moved was west, where a patchwork of factions and microstates had emerged with no real power among them, mainly due to the constant raiding and extortion of settlements by gangs and semi-nomadic raiders who took advantage of the flat terrain of the great plains to create small but effective groups of raiders on horseback who could blitz any undefended settlement if they failed to pay for protection. These protection rackets eventually would grow big enough to conflict with each other, leading to gang warfare on a large scale and the creation of distinct identities for each gang to distinguish themselves. These raiders became tribes and cultures of their own, and some became large enough to establish proto-states from the great lands they brought under their protection, and building static compounds as testaments to their power. These nomads were often played against one another by the remaining independent settlements, which became something similar to city-states, hiring different tribes and sending them to fight others. Meanwhile they reaped powerful rewards from trade revived by their powerful guarantees of safe passage. It was not a wholly stable situation, but it was comprehensible, and for many who had been dispossessed by the League War and the Canadian revolts and subsequent genocidal militia raids, it was enough to be better than their old positions. The only real threat to the wild and untamed situation was the Republic of Texas, but its honeymoon of independence had long passed, and now it was plagued by corruption and incapability of defending its claimed borders from Nomads and Banditos alike.

DISCLAIMER:
This is not an idealized setting by any means. This is basically a 1971 in which everything about the 20s is idolized as being from a time when you didn't have to wipe your ass with poison ivy, including the social climate. So that means there will be plenty of smoking, drinking, cursing, racism, sexism, bigotry, lead paint, and asbestos in keeping with that. Minority, Homosexual, Catholic, Jewish, Foreign, generally health minded characters, or females characters that want to participate just as much as the men beware!

Application
Name:
Sex:
Appearance:
Bio:
What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?(try to keep it unique from other characters if you can):

Current Members

"Jackknife Jim" Luckett (Justinian Ezkantion)

Name: Edward James "Jackknife Jim" Luckett
Sex: Male
Appearance:

Bio: Little is shared by Jim about his early childhood, not that he remembers it. His earliest memories are with his adopted father, "Uncle Rufus". The infamous crime boss took in the small child after his father died in a gang war and he was forced onto the street. Since then he has been groomed for organized crime, and was given his own autonomous outfit at the age of 21 to prove himself useful to his "Uncle's" organization. Although the gang has cycled through names and member for its five years of existence, it has proven reliable in collecting from local extortion rackets due to Jim's intense loyalty to his caretaker and desire to impress him. The gang has yet to engage in rural activities on its own, however, having always beens accompanied by other small gangs in its tours of the various settlements which pay protection money to Rufus. Jim is eager to prove himself, and is excited for the time when the boss will deem it time for him to perform a "Yokel Yanking" on his own.

What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?(try to keep it unique from other characters if you can): "I'm the boss, dumbass. Now get me a beer, we head out in 10 minutes and I sure as hell ain't doin a shakedown sober."

Dima "Cossack" Kolomanikov (Cinciri)

Name: Dmitri "Cossack or just Dima" Kolomanikov
Sex: Male
Appearance:
(The one with the white pants)

Bio: Dima comes from the cold regions of Sweden, born to a very Russian family. Being rather short and fair faced for his age, he decided he needed to learn practical skills to utilize in such a chaotic world to compensate. Using freerunning and the skills taught to him by his father (a locksmith), he learned to be quite the proficient rogue, specializing in both "dagger dancing" and most importantly, lock picking. His abilities in the field got him hired by a pirate crew who could use a good infiltrator, and set out to sea. While the details of the voyages are hazy and he rarely goes into details, it is known that Dima made quite a name for himself through skills with his blade and picks and he could certainly handle himself with a firearm. Either way at some point while off the coast of the USNA their ship had hit a sunken wreck of another vessel and was forced to run aground. Dima decided that instead of finding another ship to head back, he would make a new life here, stealing a horse and heading as far west as possible. He is currently 23 and carries a mild Slavic accent but perfect English, and is also fluent in Russian, Swedish, and German. Typical equipment is his trusty lockpicks and smith tools, A silenced Nagant 1910 revolver, and their Cossack dagger. He has a Father, Mother, Younger brother, and older sister back in Europe.

What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?: Best rogue around, can pick any mechanical lock and disarm most traps. Expert also in freerunning (practical parkour) and horseback riding. Also amazing in hand-to hand combat.

Frank "Punchy" Dennison (Gerrick)

Name: Frank "Punchy" Dennison
Sex: Male
Appearance:

Bio: Born in 1940, Frank Dennison was the eldest child and only son of a World War I veteran and a young mother. His father was a drunk who often took out his frustrations by beating his wife and children. As Frank grew, he began to fight back against his father to draw the beatings away from his mother and sisters. Though the fights usually ended with Frank unconscious on the ground, he grew thick skin. He picked fights with other kids and learned how to really throw a punch, though it angered him that he probably got it from his father. One especially drunken night, Frank's father accidentally hit Frank's youngest sister so hard that she fell back and hit her head on the edge of a table, killing her. Frank beat his father to death that night.

Later, Frank's mother began to sleep with men in exchange for food to feed Frank and his sister. She made him promise that as long as she was alive that he wouldn't join a gang because she didn't want her son to become like them. Frank would then attempt to steal so that his mother would not have to sell herself, but he wasn't good at it, so he was often caught and had to fight his way out. Sadly, on a night not dissimilar to the night his father and youngest sister died, five men raped and killed Frank's mother and sister when he was out trying to steal. The rage he felt that night never fully left him. With information he was given from a local gang, he tracked down and butchered the five men (who happened to be from a rival gang).

Grateful for the information that led to his vengeance -- and with no other direction in life -- Frank joined the gang that helped him. He became fiercely loyal to those who showed him respect and was given the name "Punchy" because of his aptitude for brawling and tendency to punch first, ask questions later, especially when someone disrespected a higher up gang member. He also gained a reputation for his willingness to do dirty work and kill for those he is loyal to. Though not a great shot with a pistol, he gained an affinity for shotguns because of their ability to punch and utterly destroy.

What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?(try to keep it unique from other characters if you can):
Fist-fighting, intimidation, and "disposing" of "undesirables".

"Injun Joe" (Doc)

Name: 'Injun Joe' (so named because, having never introduced himself, most folks took to just saying 'hey Injun', till a man heading up a gang on the Mississippi took to calling himself 'Tom Sawyer', and called him 'Injun Joe' while Joe was in his crew (all garishly nicknamed after characters from Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, most notably the running cavalcade of 'Nigger Jim's the crew ran through). 'Tom' and much of the rest of the crew was killed less than two months later, but 'Injun Joe' stuck.)
Sex: Male

Appearance and Bio: "Joe must be near on 6'6", and weighs close enough to two-fifty as to make no odds. Yessir, he's a big guy. Don't talk too much neither, but way I sees it, less a man talks, the more he does. To be square with you, I don't even know if he can talk. Ain't nobody heard him put more'n three words together since I seen him 10 years back. Takes orders mighty fine, though, and that makes him a-okay in my book.

's you can tell from the name, he's an Injun, or near 'nuff, seeing as how he looks like one of them Sitting Bull types, with all the feathers and fixings they comes with. He moves quiet-like, tracks well, hunts better, and don't even drink a drop, which is a surprise, mind you, given how every Injun I sees drinks like a dang fish, but the way I reckon that means he's got hisself a clear head more often than not, which is better'n you can say for most of those micks and dagos lookin' to get in good with your uncle.

Anyways, Rufus says I'm to hand him off to you if y'want him. Tell you the truth I'm a mite unhappy with your uncle, seein' as how Joe's one of my best, but what the big boss says, goes."

Expertise: "Joe's a hunter, tracker, and heck of a shot, whether from horseback or standing. Sits hisself in the saddle like he was born to it, which, hell, might well have been, tain't nobody knows what them Injuns do."

Cary O'Shannon (Mariam)

Name: Cary O'Shannon
Sex: Female

Appearance: A woman of about 5'7 with long dark brown hair. She looks significantly older than she actually is (26). She prefers to keep a low profile, wearing plain colored dresses and never wearing any makeup.

Bio: A romantic at heart, Cary holds to the beliefs of many 20th century poets such as T.E Lawrence, loathing not only 1970s society, but the 1920s society that preceded it. Much of her knowledge of the old world and her skills comes from her grandfather, an immigrant from County Fermanagh, a professional dentist and a US Army veteran from the Great War, having lived with him and her parents in an Irish village outside the ruins of Boston. Her grandfather was a lover of poetry and philosophy and a devote Catholic, implanting his interests and values to her. Before moving to Wichita, she was formally trained in dental work, and was fairly caught up in contemporary science  but became disillusioned at the society around her, seeing it as only slightly better than the chaotic society before it. She was fooled by a fellow dentist into moving into the Great Plains, telling her of a small, but promising town that was a haven from warlords with modern infrastructure and a democratic government. However, once she realized she had been tricked, her friend had already took off with all her money and everything except her dental equipment. With nothing else to do, she opened up a dental practice of her own.

What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?(try to keep it unique from other characters if you can): Her grandfather having been in the US Army, trained her in everything from how to shoot a rifle, how to properly cook meat and how to treat wounds. Her main talent though is dentistry. There being a strong shortage of dentists in the Plains, even some of the high ranking gangsters count on her to treat their gum disease or pull out a painful tooth.

Seamus "Smiley" Burke (Aceus Hovda)

Name: Seamus "Smiley" Burke
Sex: Male

Appearance: He's got red hair, green eyes, and is never without a smile on his lips.  Whether a toothy grin after a good guffaw, or a sharklike smirk before he pulls the trigger.

Bio: "Me granda' was a commander in th' Great War, but the fookin' Brits didn't want ta give 'im no comission or honorable discharge cuz he was a paddy, see?  So he moves on o'er ta' the States, settles down, an' joined th' National Guard.  When th' Flu happened, he was one o' the folk who reorganized into a military state, since 'e was already good at commandin'.  Course, Kike Cann* was callin' the shots at th' time so the whole o' Minnesota was divided up between Cann's boys an' the Guard.  Oi grew up like a lot o' these hicks out 'ere, shootin' the tops o' corn-ears by th' time Oi could walk.  Difference bein' is tha' Grandad made sure we got military grade shite, not some o' the homemade peashooters Oi've seen in these yokel's 'ands.  Any'ow, things between granda' an' the big cheese got heated, an' grandad got a cap in 'is head fer talkin' shite about 'im.  Me da' got th' message, an' worked wit 'im ta make "Th' Upper Midwest a Safe and Sustainable Society"...Psh!"

"Now Oi worked fer Cann at the wee age of fourteen, helpin' wit the distillers an' occasionally gunnin' someone down.  Didn't like it much but it's wha' everybody did.  Me skills an' trainin' eventually found me as one o' his hitmen, so ye'd think "if he's the 'itman fer Kike, erm Kidd Cann? Why the fook is he 'ere? If 'es here, 'es a real fuckup."  Well ye'd be 'alf right."

"Turns out nobody likes one person in charge fer too long, especially a shekel snatchin' shylock like Cann.  People started gettin' uppity, so then I decided ta' help th' underdogs out.  Ye might've 'eard about as th' Cann Coup.  Afer'words, the new bosses started bickerin' o'er who gets wha', and rather than stay an' wait fer someone ta' paint a target on me back, I beat feet down tha Mississippi."

"It was quiet, a slow life, hoppin' from boat ta' boat, takin' pot-shots an escortin' cargo, till I meet ya uncle.  Th' boatman at th' time was shippin' some gin to some o' Rufus's rivals an down ta' Texas without his say-so.  Skimpin' tolls or some bushwa, don't really remember much.  He an' his boys decided ta' pay me employers at th' time a visit.  So 'ere's Mister Rufus ridin' up wit 'is boys an' me employer asked me ta shoot 'im.  "Peck 'em off" 'e says.  But Oi had a gut feelin' that Oi would've been in a heap o' trouble if Oi did.  Oi felt Oi recognized 'im from someplace... so when Rufus comes aboard an' Oi got a look at 'is face, Oi recognized 'im from the papers an from the pictures Cann an me employer used ta have o' the local gang bosses, th' big ones.  So when I got 'im alone, Oi decided ta shake 'ands wit 'im and give him a "hello", lo an' behold, Mister Rufus received a handful o' bullets, six o' em ta be exact.  Oi was all cryptic in th' meanin', cuz Oi didn't figure me employer was gonna shoot 'im an' get the whole o' the Plains in a ruckus.  But...that's wha' 'e meaned ta' do.  So then he tells me, when we surrounded him, "peck 'em off!" Oi does what anyone would've done.  Oi pulled out a small ketchup bottle an' sprayed 'im with it."

"Oi started laughin', then he realized th' joke an started laughin' too, and we were just standin' there laughin fer a good twenty seconds while everyone else was slack jawed like they saw Jesus 'imself take a shit on the deck.  So my employer pulled out 'is own gun an' tried ta finish th' job, an' he was dead before he even put 'is hand on 'is gun.  Oi pulled out me other six shooter an' wasted th' rest o' the group, wi' help from Mister Rufus an' 'is boys.  While we rode back, we continued ta talk an' told 'im me story.  After a few jobs ta show that Oi was still loyal, Oi wound up 'ere."

*"Kike Cann" being Isadore Blumenfeld, AKA Kidd Cann, whose influence in the Upper Midwest Mafias was comparable to Al Capone

What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?(try to keep it unique from other characters if you can): "While Dima's quiet as a lynx who pounces on 'is prey, Oi prefer ta' pick me targets off from a distance. Oi've got a M1903 Springfield... wit' a telescopic scope and suppressor. If ye pay me well enough, Oi can shoot the eyebrows off a mosquito.  Other than tha', wha's there ta' say? Oi'm good wi' me tongue (or at least, tha's what the dames say), shakin' down deals between folk, an if ya need an ole case o' giggle water, I make some pretty strong gin tha'll put hair on e'en Chief's chest 'ere!  If ya need someone ta' see if yer plan's foolproof (not sayin' yer a flat tire or anythin'), or ta talk wi' someone, Oi'm yer man.  So tell me Bossman, we shootin' or talkin' at someone?"

TRANSLATED:
He keeps a cool head in combat and negotiation, and his charming hands and silver tongue can change former rivals into "we're at least willing to drink with you" friends, and his notorious Irish Luck has seen his way through many successful poker hands, women's legs, and otherwise impossible moments.  He's got looks and the ability to look in all the right places, which makes him great for striking a deal, or arranging an "accident".  He's got enough experience to warrant him running as second in command, but he opts to prove himself as well as everyone else in the gang.

When not negotiating deals, or acting as a sniper, he's most often found shooting the breeze with whoever he can chat with, cooking, or attempting to make moonshine.

Eli Brown (Ashton Mercer)

Name: "The name's Elijah Brown, but you can call me 'Eli' if you'd like."
Sex: Male
Appearance: African American, approximately 14 years old, tall with a stocky build, wide hazel eyes, short curly black hair cut close to his head and hidden under an old cap. Scars covering his forearms and the lower left side of his face.

Bio: "My life story? I guess I can start back when I was a youngun back in OK. Things were good- no, that ain't true. Things were just alright, really. They were good as they were gonna get for a well-to-do black family trying to survive outside of places like Harlem and Bronzeville. My Ma and Pa used to run a pharmacy and chemist shop just inside the city limits of Tulsa, the only one left in the area. Whenever someone needed medicine, chemical supplies, or what-have-you, they would come to the shop. I was an only child, and it got pretty lonely sometimes, so when I wasn't studying or helping my parents run the shop, I would always talk to the stranger characters who I came across. Heard an awful lot about some boys in Kansas who were giving the Texans a run for their money. As a family, we just ran our shop and kept our heads low. They had already killed black folks to keep them out of the town way back in the day, and my Ma was convinced it would happen again despite my Pa's wishes. Keeping our heads down wasn't enough.

One night, a mob of whites and some crooked police came into the street where we lived, and started trying to drive us out. They came down the street like a storm, throwing rocks, beating black people, even shooting at us as we hid. They got to the store, barricaded the door with us inside, and burned the place to the ground. My parents didn't make it, but I just barely did, managing to jump out a window and earning these scars in the process. Once I realized that I wasn't dead, I hid myself behind some boxes until the mob left. Then I grabbed a few bottles of acids and other useful solutions that survived the fire and ran for it. There wasn't nobody in that town who was gonna help me, so I sure as hell wasn't gonna stick around after that.

I traveled all over the place for a while. I went east through Springfield to St. Louis. There, I heard about the Wild Men again. About how they were part of a free and fighting people, and about how they help each other if you earn their respect and about how they don't take nothing from nobody. That sounded good to me. I decided to bounce back west, going through Kansas City and then south to Wichita. I was gonna find them and join them, no matter what. After some time, I finally met up with the gang and explained myself. After a 'demonstration' that involved burning down some poor bastard's shack with a vial no larger than my thumb, I was accepted into the gang. That brings us to today, I guess."

What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?(try to keep it unique from other characters if you can): "What I'm good at, huh? Well, the gang keeps me around mostly because I'm good with chemicals. Bombs, flares, poison gas, incendiaries. If you name it and know what it does, I can find a way to build it. You see, here's what I do: I take stuff I learned from my Ma and Pa, mix it with stuff I learned from the gang, and make myself one deadly sonofabitch. I ain't just a killer, though. Sometimes I help the Irish lady by making soaps, painkillers, medicine. That sort of thing. I guess you could call me something of a chemist.

Also, I sorta have a sense for danger. No, I ain't a coward. It's just that, well, I can usually tell when something's gonna go sour before most other folks can. Trust me, it helps. I also have a good scorecard when it comes to judging folks' character."

IC THREAD

Name: Edward James "Jackknife Jim" Luckett
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Bio: Little is shared by Jim about his early childhood, not that he remembers it. His earliest memories are with his adopted father, "Uncle Rufus". The infamous crime boss took in the small child after his father died in a gang war and he was forced onto the street. Since then he has been groomed for organized crime, and was given his own autonomous outfit at the age of 21 to prove himself useful to his "Uncle's" organization. Although the gang has cycled through names and member for its five years of existence, it has proven reliable in collecting from local extortion rackets due to Jim's intense loyalty to his caretaker and desire to impress him. The gang has yet to engage in rural activities on its own, however, having always beens accompanied by other small gangs in its tours of the various settlements which pay protection money to Rufus. Jim is eager to prove himself, and is excited for the time when the boss will deem it time for him to perform a "Yokel Yanking" on his own.
What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?(try to keep it unique from other characters if you can): "I'm the boss, dumbass. Now get me a beer, we head out in 10 minutes and I sure as hell ain't doin a shakedown sober."

What are some examples of useful skills for characters in the gang?

Is there anything we can do to spread the word about the RP?

I already made a post about it on the RMB, but maybe we can add it to that section at the top of the NS region page where it says "latest news"?

I already made a post about it on the RMB, but maybe we can add it to that section at the top of the NS region page where it says "latest news"?

That's a good idea! I went ahead and did that. I also noticed that for some reason you weren't a regional officer, so I made you one in case you wanted to do things like that in the future.

What are some examples of useful skills for characters in the gang?

Being the best locksmith, sharpshooter, mechanic, silver tongue, horseback rider, etc. You don't have to be incompetent at everything else, just say what your character's exceptional talent is. After all, you don't get into the gang run by the big boss' adopted son by being mediocre. Why would Boss Luckett recommend you to Jim?

Application by Cin'ciri
Name: Dmitri "Cossack or just Dima" Kolomanikov
Sex: Male
Appearance: (The one with the white pants)
Bio: Dima comes from the cold regions of Sweden, born to a very Russian family. Being rather short and fair faced for his age, he decided he needed to learn practical skills to utilize in such a chaotic world to compensate. Using freerunning and the skills taught to him by his father (a locksmith), he learned to be quite the proficient rogue, specializing in both "dagger dancing" and most importantly, lock picking. His abilities in the field got him hired by a pirate crew who could use a good infiltrator, and set out to sea. While the details of the voyages are hazy and he rarely goes into details, it is known that Dima made quite a name for himself through skills with his blade and picks and he could certainly handle himself with a firearm. Either way at some point while off the coast of the USNA their ship had hit a sunken wreck of another vessel and was forced to run aground. Dima decided that instead of finding another ship to head back, he would make a new life here, stealing a horse and heading as far west as possible. He is currently 23 and carries a mild Slavic accent but perfect English, and is also fluent in Russian, Swedish, and German. Typical equipment is his trusty lockpicks and smith tools, A silenced Nagant 1910 revolver, and their Cossack dagger. He has a Father, Mother, Younger brother, and older sister back in Europe.
What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?: Best rogue around, can pick any mechanical lock and disarm most traps. Expert also in freerunning (practical parkour) and horseback riding. Also amazing in hand-to hand combat.

Ah, yes, a pirate. Many privateers were hired by the league in the closing stages of the war in which they were annihilated. They were a way of counteracting the USA (later USNA)'s naval dominance following the battle of St. Pierre. They would largely have either left following the League's defeat or been destroyed by a naval force now solely dedicated to their eradication. I presume Dima's captain would have been in a hurry to leave, making him sloppy with his navigation. This would have been a few years ago when the war ended, so he must have been a teenager still when he made this decision, but that wouldn't be out of the ordinary. International mercenary and privateer groups are everywhere, feeding off of conflict between re-emerging nations. He wouldn't have needed to take a horse immediately though, America is a big place, and trains regularly run all the way to the Mississippi, then irregular runnings past that going toward Utah, where the Mormons have their own things going on. Also, for RP reasons, please remember that silencers still make a loud noise, but they turn a recognizable gunshot into a unrecognizable *crack* sound. These hicks have barely any idea what a silencer is, so use that to your advantage.
With that little tirade over, I am happy to say your app is approved,

Ah, yes, a pirate. Many privateers were hired by the league in the closing stages of the war in which they were annihilated. They were a way of counteracting the USA (later USNA)'s naval dominance following the battle of St. Pierre. They would largely have either left following the League's defeat or been destroyed by a naval force now solely dedicated to their eradication. I presume Dima's captain would have been in a hurry to leave, making him sloppy with his navigation. This would have been a few years ago when the war ended, so he must have been a teenager still when he made this decision, but that wouldn't be out of the ordinary. International mercenary and privateer groups are everywhere, feeding off of conflict between re-emerging nations. He wouldn't have needed to take a horse immediately though, America is a big place, and trains regularly run all the way to the Mississippi, then irregular runnings past that going toward Utah, where the Mormons have their own things going on. Also, for RP reasons, please remember that silencers still make a loud noise, but they turn a recognizable gunshot into a unrecognizable *crack* sound. These hicks have barely any idea what a silencer is, so use that to your advantage.
With that little tirade over, I am happy to say your app is approved,

I own a Nagant 1895 revolver with suppressor, I am aware of the implications, also I like the background to this and yes I forgot to add that he left quite early in his life. Also he just took a horse out of being more used to them as the son of a Cossack family

Name: Frank "Punchy" Dennison
Sex: Male
Appearance:

Bio: Born in 1940, Frank Dennison was the eldest child and only son of a World War I veteran and a young mother. His father was a drunk who often took out his frustrations by beating his wife and children. As Frank grew, he began to fight back against his father to draw the beatings away from his mother and sisters. Though the fights usually ended with Frank unconscious on the ground, he grew thick skin. He picked fights with other kids and learned how to really throw a punch, though it angered him that he probably got it from his father. One especially drunken night, Frank's father accidentally hit Frank's youngest sister so hard that she fell back and hit her head on the edge of a table, killing her. Frank beat his father to death that night.

Later, Frank's mother began to sleep with men in exchange for food to feed Frank and his sister. She made him promise that as long as she was alive that he wouldn't join a gang because she didn't want her son to become like them. Frank would then attempt to steal so that his mother would not have to sell herself, but he wasn't good at it, so he was often caught and had to fight his way out. Sadly, on a night not dissimilar to the night his father and youngest sister died, five men raped and killed Frank's mother and sister when he was out trying to steal. The rage he felt that night never fully left him. With information he was given from a local gang, he tracked down and butchered the five men (who happened to be from a rival gang).

Grateful for the information that led to his vengeance -- and with no other direction in life -- Frank joined the gang that helped him. He became fiercely loyal to those who showed him respect and was given the name "Punchy" because of his aptitude for brawling and tendency to punch first, ask questions later, especially when someone disrespected a higher up gang member. He also gained a reputation for his willingness to do dirty work and kill for those he is loyal to. Though not a great shot with a pistol, he gained an affinity for shotguns because of their ability to punch and utterly destroy.

What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?(try to keep it unique from other characters if you can):
Fist-fighting, intimidation, and "disposing" of "undesirables".

Ah, yes, a pirate. Many privateers were hired by the league in the closing stages of the war in which they were annihilated. They were a way of counteracting the USA (later USNA)'s naval dominance following the battle of St. Pierre. They would largely have either left following the League's defeat or been destroyed by a naval force now solely dedicated to their eradication. I presume Dima's captain would have been in a hurry to leave, making him sloppy with his navigation. This would have been a few years ago when the war ended, so he must have been a teenager still when he made this decision, but that wouldn't be out of the ordinary. International mercenary and privateer groups are everywhere, feeding off of conflict between re-emerging nations. He wouldn't have needed to take a horse immediately though, America is a big place, and trains regularly run all the way to the Mississippi, then irregular runnings past that going toward Utah, where the Mormons have their own things going on. Also, for RP reasons, please remember that silencers still make a loud noise, but they turn a recognizable gunshot into a unrecognizable *crack* sound. These hicks have barely any idea what a silencer is, so use that to your advantage.
With that little tirade over, I am happy to say your app is approved,

I own a Nagant 1895 revolver with suppressor, I am aware of the implications, also I like the background to this and yes I forgot to add that he left quite early in his life. Also he just took a horse out of being more used to them as the son of a Cossack family

That journey would take months by horse, almost an odyssey really. Might be a good opportunity for stories of that time being told around a campfire.

Name: Frank "Punchy" Dennison
Sex: Male
Appearance:

Bio: Born in 1940, Frank Dennison was the eldest child and only son of a World War I veteran and a young mother. His father was a drunk who often took out his frustrations by beating his wife and children. As Frank grew, he began to fight back against his father to draw the beatings away from his mother and sisters. Though the fights usually ended with Frank unconscious on the ground, he grew thick skin. He picked fights with other kids and learned how to really throw a punch, though it angered him that he probably got it from his father. One especially drunken night, Frank's father accidentally hit Frank's youngest sister so hard that she fell back and hit her head on the edge of a table, killing her. Frank beat his father to death that night.

Later, Frank's mother began to sleep with men in exchange for food to feed Frank and his sister. She made him promise that as long as she was alive that he wouldn't join a gang because she didn't want her son to become like them. Frank would then attempt to steal so that his mother would not have to sell herself, but he wasn't good at it, so he was often caught and had to fight his way out. Sadly, on a night not dissimilar to the night his father and youngest sister died, five men raped and killed Frank's mother and sister when he was out trying to steal. The rage he felt that night never fully left him. With information he was given from a local gang, he tracked down and butchered the five men (who happened to be from a rival gang).

Grateful for the information that led to his vengeance -- and with no other direction in life -- Frank joined the gang that helped him. He became fiercely loyal to those who showed him respect and was given the name "Punchy" because of his aptitude for brawling and tendency to punch first, ask questions later, especially when someone disrespected a higher up gang member. He also gained a reputation for his willingness to do dirty work and kill for those he is loyal to. Though not a great shot with a pistol, he gained an affinity for shotguns because of their ability to punch and utterly destroy.

What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?(try to keep it unique from other characters if you can):
Fist-fighting, intimidation, and "disposing" of "undesirables".

At the end of the day, a guy who can rip someone to shreds with his bare hands is always a necessity. That same guy with a shotgun is a force to be reckoned with. Seems to me this guy has a life debt to one of Luckett's undergangs. Life in the streets of the so-called "sanctuary cities" a lot of people flocked to after the Texans chickened out and the countryside started getting dangerous became very violent indeed. Old Uncle Rufus used to tell Jim about the first big gang war, over in Kansas city between black gangs that had come from people fleeing neo-confederate persecution in the deep south and ill-tempered okies that didn't much care for all those darkskinned folk competing with them at the breadline. Lotta people died around that time, and the URC came in and had to purge the whole damn city.
Approved.

Name: 'Injun Joe' (so named because, having never introduced himself, most folks took to just saying 'hey Injun', till a man heading up a gang on the Mississippi took to calling himself 'Tom Sawyer', and called him 'Injun Joe' while Joe was in his crew (all garishly nicknamed after characters from Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, most notably the running cavalcade of 'Nigger Jim's the crew ran through). 'Tom' and much of the rest of the crew was killed less than two months later, but 'Injun Joe' stuck.)
Sex: Male
Appearance and Bio:
"Joe must be near on 6'6", and weighs close enough to two-fifty as to make no odds. Yessir, he's a big guy. Don't talk too much neither, but way I sees it, less a man talks, the more he does. To be square with you, I don't even know if he can talk. Ain't nobody heard him put more'n three words together since I seen him 10 years back. Takes orders mighty fine, though, and that makes him a-okay in my book.
's you can tell from the name, he's an Injun, or near 'nuff, seeing as how he looks like one of them Sitting Bull types, with all the feathers and fixings they comes with. He moves quiet-like, tracks well, hunts better, and don't even drink a drop, which is a surprise, mind you, given how every Injun I sees drinks like a dang fish, but the way I reckon that means he's got hisself a clear head more often than not, which is better'n you can say for most of those micks and dagos lookin' to get in good with your uncle.
Anyways, Rufus says I'm to hand him off to you if y'want him. Tell you the truth I'm a mite unhappy with your uncle, seein' as how Joe's one of my best, but what the big boss says, goes."
Expertise: "Joe's a hunter, tracker, and heck of a shot, whether from horseback or standing. Sits hisself in the saddle like he was born to it, which, hell, might well have been, tain't nobody knows what them Injuns do."

Name: 'Injun Joe' (so named because, having never introduced himself, most folks took to just saying 'hey Injun', till a man heading up a gang on the Mississippi took to calling himself 'Tom Sawyer', and called him 'Injun Joe' while Joe was in his crew (all garishly nicknamed after characters from Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, most notably the running cavalcade of 'Nigger Jim's the crew ran through). 'Tom' and much of the rest of the crew was killed less than two months later, but 'Injun Joe' stuck.)
Sex: Male
Appearance and Bio:
"Joe must be near on 6'6", and weighs close enough to two-fifty as to make no odds. Yessir, he's a big guy. Don't talk too much neither, but way I sees it, less a man talks, the more he does. To be square with you, I don't even know if he can talk. Ain't nobody heard him put more'n three words together since I seen him 10 years back. Takes orders mighty fine, though, and that makes him a-okay in my book.
's you can tell from the name, he's an Injun, or near 'nuff, seeing as how he looks like one of them Sitting Bull types, with all the feathers and fixings they comes with. He moves quiet-like, tracks well, hunts better, and don't even drink a drop, which is a surprise, mind you, given how every Injun I sees drinks like a dang fish, but the way I reckon that means he's got hisself a clear head more often than not, which is better'n you can say for most of those micks and dagos lookin' to get in good with your uncle.
Anyways, Rufus says I'm to hand him off to you if y'want him. Tell you the truth I'm a mite unhappy with your uncle, seein' as how Joe's one of my best, but what the big boss says, goes."
Expertise: "Joe's a hunter, tracker, and heck of a shot, whether from horseback or standing. Sits hisself in the saddle like he was born to it, which, hell, might well have been, tain't nobody knows what them Injuns do."

Quiet *and* deadly? Welcome aboard, chief. Punchy oughta get ya settled. Glad ya don't drink, cuz between me and that Cossack over there we're already spending too much on that sorta thing.