Chapter 1: Time to Duel!
Barnaby Jones was practicing Disco-fu at his Dojo. His training object, a red kick-boxing bag, suffered from his groovy flow of rolling punches and jumping kicks. As he continued to train, the doors to to the Dojo swung open wide. Stepping inside were a group of thirty or so people clad in 70's-era clothing. "
These look like my kind of people!" Thought Barnaby Jones as he sauntered over to see what they wanted. "So guys, what's up for today?" A young man wearing a 70's basketball jersey stepped forward. "We are your
I.D.A. entourage. We make up your bodyguards, advisors, caretakers and transporters. We are also here to tell you that you are now Ranked 94th in the Top 100 International Duelists, and are ready to begin your Dueling and all that jazz."
Name: Barnaby Jones
Gender: M
Age: 29
Appearance: An afro sporting sun-glassed man of tall stature and exaggerated disco fashion sense.
Biography: Barnaby spent his whole life wishing he had been born a decade or two earlier and lived through the age of blaxploitation martial arts and disco music you could really dig, man! He had given up on his dreams and lived the life of a mild mannered accountant, until fate stumbled upon him one day in the form of an incurable illness. Eschewing all other life choices, Barnaby finally dedicated his life to controlling and mastering his Disco Fever. Unfortunately, this fever is a chronic ailment that will inevitably destroy him, and is a dangerous affliction if taken lightly. He signed up as a duelist in order to show the world that disco was not truly dead, and victory would label him as the messiah necessary to raise disco from the ashes. Unconsciously, he is seeking a cure to the terminal illness, of which a fiery passion constantly boils his brain.
Starting Clothes/Armor: An open silver vest meant to show off his perfectly chiseled pectoral muscles, yet the sweet pecs are hidden behind a sizable layer of body hair. White bell-bottoms adorn his legs and a pair of black gators ensure a beat down that is truly out of sight.
Starting Weapons:
Survival Tool - A fierce hair-comb that ends in several sharp metal points.
Attributes: ST+1 PR+0 AG+1 EU+0 IN+0 LK+1
Conditions:
Gettin' With the Groove; +1 to all rolls if a fight exceeds 3 turns.
Disco Inferno; -1 to dodging incendiary weapons.
No bro messes with the Fro'!; Goes into a rage if his Afro is heavily damaged or destroyed. +1 to offense, -1 to defense.
Designated Dueling Ground: Master Jones Karate Dojo of Harlem For Disenfranchised Young People
The Spirit of 45' looked solemnly out onto the horizon off his island. He somewhat bitterly missed the endless fighting, at least it gave him something to do. Now he was just stuck on Iwo Jima, the only source of life being the 1000 or so islanders who tried their best to ignore him. The horizon looked the same as usual: Gently curling waves, the squawk of seagulls, the boats coming towards the island, the sun-, wait, boats? Before he could even process the thought, The Spirit of 45' observed the boats coming towards Iwo Jima at an alarming rate. And these weren't just any boats, these were the boats the U.S. had used to invade islands in the Pacific during the war. Running down the shoreline, The Spirit made it just as a group of American soldiers stepped out onto the beach and began storming the island. One of the Infantrymen, wearing the ancient WWII Army Camouflage and wielding a bayoneted rifle ran up to him. "Sir! We are your
I.D.A. entourage sir! We function as your bodyguards, publicists, advisors and transporters, sir! We are also here to inform you that you are Ranked 95th in the Top 100 International Duelists, and you may begin ready to Duel when you are ready! And we are not actually World War 2 soldiers, sir! The
I.D.A. has based each Duelist's entourage on their past history sir! Although I am a veteran, as I served in the 8th Martian Civil war as a cook sir! I even discharged my weapon twice on accident sir!"
Name: Spirit of 45'
Gender: Male
Age: Indeterminate, appears in early 20's
Appearance: A ghostly looking young man with a pair of circular horn rimmed glasses. Wearing WW2 era Marine fatigues.
Biography: The Spirit of 45'-or just 'The Spirit'-seems to be, for all intents and purposes, the ghost of a former American marine who likely died during the battle that took place 200 plus years ago. The truth is a bit more bizarre-he, and many of his brethren, are the result of a Temporal experiment gone terribly wrong-one that turned many of the slain of that battle, into time lost shades, existing simultaneously in all time lines, past, present and none. They exist as half man, half nothing.
The Spirit up till now seemed to be on endless patrol-fighting alongside his fellow marines in endless combat, against an enemy they could never kill, and who could never kill them-never quite dead, and never quite alive. On and on, caught in an endless repeating loop. The Island was closed off from the public-though the shades couldn't harm each other permanently, their spectral bullets, knives and grenades could rend living flesh as easy as they ever could when their owners were whole.
The I.D.A, in it's own particular style of ruthlessness, was prodded by the Peacekeepers to provide a potential fan favorite-Patriotism levels were dwindling in some key regions, after all. Thus, the Spirit was brought into being-pulled more or less into the now by some technological advance or the other...and set to compete. He's lost a degree of his power, but is slowly gaining strength as he understands why and where he is.
The being himself is a torn individual-unable to remember his own name, not knowing where or when he is, tormented by memories of a lives he had and didn't have, people he killed and spared and killed again, seeking only solace in the 'Mission'-to become number 1 Duelist-rationalized to himself as seeking enemy agents, and ending the War so he can go home.
Only then, he reasons, can he finally find rest...
Starting Clothes/Armor: Jungle Pattern Camouflage Fatigues.
Starting Weapon: Thompson Submachine Gun - An automatic, classic machine gun commonly used by early 1900's soldiers and gangsters.
Skills: ST+0 PR+1 AG-1 EU+2 IN+0 LK+1
Attributes:
Used to Bombardment; +1 to dodging explosives.
PTSD; Has a 15% chance to get a -1 to defense each turn.
Run & Gun; Suffers no penalty from shooting while sprinting.
Designated Dueling Ground: Iwo Jima (Entire Island)
Glowing Ether rests on the platform of an abandoned subway. It's a nice quiet place. Besides the occasional rustle of trash or the squeak of a mouse, there are no foreign sounds. This makes it the perfect place to construct new songs. Just as G.E. starts picking up on a trance-club beat, he feels a disturbance in the ground. Something is out of place. The ground vibrates. Before he can realize what's going on, a fully-functioning subway train zooms passed him. However, it begins to gradually slow down, passing by less rapidly over time. When it has stopped, a large group of people exit the subway. Wearing either casual, hipster-like or underground clothing, these look like the type of people Glowing Ether would see at any club. A girl with glasses and as sash across her body walks up to him. "We are your
I.D.A. entourage. Our jobs are to be your bodyguards, publicists, advisors and transporters. We are also here to inform you that you are currently ranked 96th in the Top 100 International Ranked Duelists board." She cleared her throat and talked in a much more casual tone, "So, what are you going to do now?"
Name:Glowing Ether
Gender:Male
Age:24
Appearance:A middle-height man, broad in the shoulders and thick in the neck. He wears a large trench-coat at all times, as well as a large set of studio grade headphones. On his face is a metal mask with small slits in it only for his eyes, nose and mouth. Nothing can be discerned of his face.
Biography:He was born Wilhelm in what was Germany. He grew up in a fairly ordinary way, but developed an obsession with computers and music (and any combination thereof). When he turned 18, he set out on his own, buying a computer and some headphones with the only money he had. After a while, his underground-beats reached a higher audience's ears, and he was given a contract by a small record label. With his newly found income, he began to tinker with his equipment. He found that by drastically increasing the frequency of his speakers, he could actually cause heavy physical harm to living things. This caught the attention of the the I.D.A. He was immediately drafted into the association.
Starting Clothes/Armor: Heavy Trench coat with small titanium plates inside it.
Starting Weapon: Portable Bass Cannon - Creates hyper-sonic blasts that travel with extreme kinetic force.
Skills: ST+1 PR+0 AG+1 EU+0 IN+1 LK+0
Attributes:
Auditory Pro; +1 to Perception in closed environments.
Metal; +1 to Endurance when suffering Blunt-force damage.
Conductor; -1 to dodging electrical attacks.
Designated Dueling Ground; Any subway system
Sai leaped from pillar to pillar in the temple ruins. Why was Sai jumping around in the templ ruins? Well, why not? It was far away for the noise and artificiality of the cities, and gave Sai plenty of room to concentrate and develop her skills. And her shinobi training was telling her that something was up. The shadows seemed to creep close to her. Looking around, Sai saw that she was surrounded by dozens of other shinobi! She was hopelessly outnumbered, she realized, as one of them started to speak. "We are you entourage as sent by the
I.D.A. Our duty is to function as your bodyguards, publicists, advisors and transporters. We have also arrived to inform you that you are currently ranked 97th in the Top 100 International Duelist Rankings, and you may begin your Dueling whenever you feel ready. Our duty is only to serve you, Sai-San." He bows.
Name: Sai
Gender: Female
Age: 14
Appearance: Lithe little girl with long black pigtails and green eyes.
Biography: Sai is a member of an elite dojo teaching martial arts, as well as certain philosophies behind them. Specifically, they seek to bring peace and balance to the world by bringing it to oneself first- but, there's a fair amount of wriggle room and conflicting ideologies in there, and many members end up fighting against each other. Further complicating matters is the fact that each master selects and trains their own pupils, meaning differences in technique and perspective can and often do split more with each wave of students.
Sai happened to belong to one of the more central and traditional branches of her school, but had the unfortunate honor of being her master's least talented pupil- or so he claimed, anyway. She decided to go engage in an extended fight to the death in order to prove him wrong and surpass her peers, which was perhaps not the wisest or most innerly-peaceful decision ever. She does, however, intend to bring a measure of inner calm and rationality to the competition, something she's rightly assuming is sorely lacking under the current regime.
Starting Clothes/Armor: Armorweave Gi. A tight-fitting, vaguely ninja-like outfit made of armored threads, protecting against slashing and piercing attacks while being essentially just clothes against blunt force. Her master's symbol is on the back.
Starting Weapon: Bronze Knuckledusters and matching foot bracers - Powerful, melee based weapons to multiply attacking force.
Attributes: ST+2 PR+0 AG+2 EU+0 IN-1 LK+0
Conditions:
First Strike; Always gets the first attack in any fight, regardless of her opponent's agility.
Ninja; When hiding in the shadows, enemies gain a bigger PR loss than usual.
Glass Cannon; -1 to Endurance when suffering Blunt-force damage.
Designated Dueling Ground: Urban ruins of any sort.
"Fly!" Miria commanded the small broom beneath her. As usual, it proceeded to gain altitude, though at an unimpressive rate. This did not discourage Miria. She chanted, "~Yayyyyyyy~" As she moderatley ascended to the top of the room. It was just some random, traditional house in Japan she had taken an interest in, since the main feature that stood out was the unusual height of the rooms. As Miria began floating down, the door to the room slammed open. "Ah!" Miria fell a few feet from the ground, caught by a mass of arms. Looking at these newcomers, they seemed to be dressed in typical shrine monk and priestess wears. "Who are you?" Questioned the young witch. As she was placed on her feet, an older man slid his way forward. "We are your
I.D.A.-based entourage. Our jobs are to function as your bodyguards, publicists, advisors and transporters. Our other job is to inform you that you are currently ranked 98th in the Top 100 International Duelists Rankings, and may begin your Dueling duties whenever you see fit." He bows.
Name: Miria
Gender: Female
Age: ??
Appearance: Appears to be a little girl, skinny and small. She has plain, nondescript dark grey cloths adorned only by a single red ribbon. Her flame-red hair is tied into a tight(=high) ponytail. She has a thin leather strip around her neck, and her shoes are regular brown boots of leather. Her red eyes twinkle with something between malevolence, mischief and misandry. How they twinkle like that is a mystery even the gods don't know how.
Biography: She is supposed to be a witch, but all she was able to learn was short flights on a broom, and smacking people with said broom. She was kicked out of the witch's world when 'that' happened, and wandered around before being scooped into IDA.
Starting Clothes/Armor: Magically reinforced leather clothes (different from dark grey clothes) that extend their protection to the seemingly uncovered areas too. Defends well against glancing attacks and slashes, but not so well against stabbing and blunt attacks.
Starting Weapon: Broom with purple handle and bright pink tufts - Adorned with another red ribbon. Can fly, has magical properties.
Attributes: ST-1 PC+1 AG+2 EU+0 IN+0 LK+1
Conditions:
Magical; Has the potential to learn Magical spells.
Mischief Maker; +1 to distraction/confusion-based moves.
Light; -1 in grappling scenarios.
Designated Dueling Ground: Darkened room that has a high ceiling.
Velien made it to the top of the hill. There was no point at being at the top of the hill, it lacked any sort of material reward. However, with the angle of the evening sun, he struck a heroic and morally-justified pose looking out into the horizon. Here he was, on a quest to secure the Holy Grail. The quest was given out by the greatest king himself, God, and Velien made it his duty to sacrifice everything he had in order to appease his Holy Father. While thinking of where the Grail might lie next, Velien heard hoofsteps and clanking metal approach him from behind. Instinctively, he drew he sword and spun around. A large band of knights, of various colors and insignia, were proceeding up to him. "Halt! State your business here!" Commanded Farthan. A red knight on horseback held up a hand, stopping the newcoming band of warriors. He stated back to Farthan, "By the order of the Almighty God and his prophets in the
I.D.A., we come to you in service as your entourage, acting as bodyguards, publicists, adivsors and transporters to you. It is the honor of the
I.D.A. to announce you are now ranked 99th in the Top 100 International Duelists Ranking and may proceed with your quest to your liking." The knight dismounted and fell to his knee in front of Velien.
Name: Veilen Farthan
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown, appears to be between twenty and thirty judging by appearance
Appearance: Lean in figure, Veilen is a man of light complexion with short cropped black hair and deep brown eyes.
Biography: Hailing from Britannia, Vei was on a quest to secure the Holy Grail along with an allied cavalcade of his brethren for the good of the realm, in constant struggle against the enemy forces - both real and magical, in his journey. They were among the best of their time, skilled in their arts and blessed by the hand of their deity.
That is his present, and is what continues to be his present. In the battle on the high peaks, a strange anomaly manifested and shifted the very fabrics of time and reason itself. In a split second, Vei found himself in a castle covered from head to toe in moss, vines and other flora, with sunlight spewing from the crumbling fortifications that were once his home keep. By Oath to his King, he still quests ever on for the Grail, having been fooled by the I.D.A. to participate in their arena, mostly oblivious to the obvious changes in his environment and vicinity.
Nonetheless, he aims to claim the top, believing that would grant him solace for his quest. The loss of his whole squadron was heavy on him, but he believed still in his cause.
Starting Clothes/Armor: Light Silver Field Cloak w/ Hood
Starting Weapon: Consecrated Arming Sword - Consecrated with the power of God and the might of the Holy Ghost.
Attributes:ST+1 PC+0 AG+1 EU+1 IN+0 LK+0
Conditions:
Trained in Swordship; +1 to Parrying and Blocking with swords.
What is this sorcery?; -1 to using modern firearms. (Does not effect Early Firearms or Modern Melee Weapons.)
Code of Chivalry; Must Assassinate any 'Demonic' force he faces. (Ghouls, Vampires, Demons, Hedonists, etc.) Can not Assassinate any 'Innocent' opponents. (Most women, priests, children, etc. However, he can Assassinate them if they challenge him.)
Designated Dueling Ground: Forested Castle Ruins
Mint Freehood stood in the middle of the desert sun. Spitting out tobacco, an iconic Wild West sound effect aired as a namecard quickly flew in front of him labeling him as
'Mint Freehood.' He pulled out his holstered Magnum Revolver, giving it an experimental twirl around his finger. Here he was, a cowboy warrior, his childhood dreams come to life. His proud silence was interuppted by a loud source of 'Yee-haw!'ing, whoops and hollars traveling near him. Turning around, Mint witnessed a group of cowboys, some mounted on horseback, approaching him on the dusty desert trail. As they neared him, Freehood turn the safety off of his gun. One of the cowboys put his hands up. "Woah there, easy partner. We're your
I.D.A. entourage, handeling as your bodyguards, publicists, advisors and transporters. We're also here to report that you are currently ranked 100th in the Top 100 International Duelists Ranking, and may begin Duelin' anytime you want. So, howdy!" He extends his hand forward.
Name:Mint Freehood
Gender:Male
Age:82
Appearance: a tall slender man in his early eighties, Mint can always be seen with his trademark cowboy hat and six shooter.
Biography: Born to rooting tootin cowboy loving parents, Mint loved everything western, and he loved his actor/cowboy hero Clint eastwood. When mint's age retirement fund ran out he re-watched all of his favourite movies, and slipped back into the western costume he wore as a boy, ready, and with a plan on how he was going to make it through the rest of his life.
Starting Clothes/Armor: Cowboy hat and leathers with a Kevlar vest underneath.
Starting Weapon: .44 Magnum - Classic heavy, face-breaking revolver.
Attributes: ST+1 PC+1 AG+0 EU+0 IN+0 LK+1
Conditions:
Pistol Sharpshot; Suffers no range penalty from using Pistols and Revolvers.
Saloon Fightin'; +1 to Counter-attacks in hand-to-hand combat.
Old Joints; If a fight goes beyond 3 rounds, suffers a -1 to Agility.
Designated Dueling Ground: the dusty street outside a wild west saloon, tumbleweeds added as necessary.
Top 100:.....
84. ?
85. ?
86. ?
87. ?
88. ?
89. ?
90. ?
91. ?
92. ?
93. ?
94. Barnaby Jones: A smooth groovy disco-risko claiming that disco never died.
95. Spirit of 45': A WWII fighter lost in war purgatory, brought into the future to continue his fighting.
96. Glowing Ether: A metallic man who lives underground, creating intoxicating beats that pump blood, to fatal amounts.
97. Sai: A young shinobi thrust into the world of Dueling in order to prove herself a worthy ninja.
98. Miria: A psuedo-witch pulled who's magical potential got here drafted into Dueling.
99. Veilen Farthan: A Holy Crusader on a quest from God to find the mystical Holy Grail.
100.Mint Freehood: An older man who rather than retire, took up his lifelong dream of becoming a cowboy.
Hi there, my name's TCM, and welcome to ~Los Desperadoes~. After 9 years in development, we hope that it has been worth the wait.
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Topic: ~Los Desperadoes~ (Ch. 6: I dun' goof'd) (Read 12332 times)