Joseph Williams Ashley
Dec 19, 2013 3:50:44 GMT -5
Post by Joseph Ashley on Dec 19, 2013 3:50:44 GMT -5
The easy S T U F F . . .Name: Joseph Williams Ashley
Nickname: Joe, that creepy guy
Age: Fourty-Seven
Member Group: Local
Play By: Bill MoseleyLet it F L O W . . .
Joseph had a pretty boring childhood, the same old deal. Dad ran out when he was 11, mama was a waitress and usually too busy or too drunk to be a mother. When he decided high-school wasn't for him, he was out of that house and living in his jeep. It wasn't until he picked up a job selling skins and meat local he actually picked up a home of sorts.
Eventually, all that years spent out in the woods had affected him. The more secluded he stayed, the more agitated his already-waning distrust in humanity was. It wasn't until these metas started popping up where he could see them that he really closed up. This man is a paranoid meta-hating machine. He knows they're everywhere; in his television, in his government, in his food, and he will never feel half inclined to trust one. More likely he'll try to shoot one down. Even more likely, and much more often, he'll try to start a fight.
He dropped one, once, and left him. It was probably just some guy who was feeling lost and made mistakes. Still, Joseph never really regretted it. As far as he was concerned at the time, they weren't human, and they no longer deserved human regard.
To this day, he still sits around, pretty sure they're watching. He'll talk to them with an obvious disdain, but that doesn't mean he'll let them on his property.
No matter what sort of civility circumstances ever force him to portray towards those kind, it's always tempered by a deep suspicion, distrust and downright loathing.Behind the M A S K . . .Name: Robin
Age: 19
RP Experience: I've roleplayed pretty steadily for about 10 years, since I was little. It started off with Neopets, moved to Gaia, evolved into forum boards, and since then it's been everything from in-game roleplay to para roleplay.
How did you find us?: Recommendation, actually.Show your S K I L L S . . .
That awful morning came again and Joseph woke up on the floor, stretched out in his sweat-stained wife-beater, briefs and not much else. All around him empty booze cans littered up the shag trailer floor, he couldn't help but kick a few across the floor as he pushed himself upright. No, they weren't recent, they were old. Could've been 2 nights ago, could've been months, he didn't spend much time cleaning up after himself. Besides, he lived alone, why would he? He always lived alone, and himself was all he needed. He was all he ever needed.
It was a short walk to the bathroom, past his still quite-deeply-slumbering hound dog, and when he got in there wasn't even a door between them. He'd busted that off about a year ago, hell if he remembered why. He had so many breaks, he got emotional sometimes and he couldn't help it. That, or some nights he was quite drunk. He did a lot of crazy shit when he was drunk, and he was a mean drunk. Then if you asked anyone that knew him, he was a mean man in general.
The next 2 minutes consisted of wiping up his face with a damp towel, tying back that long, oily blond hair and hardly running a comb through is beard. He had his hunting rifle in his hands as soon as he could, and with sweats on and boots tied up, he was out in the woods to grab a few meals.
It was a whole half-hour, stomach rumbling, that he found his mark. One of those cocky big bucks with his little doe harem in his trail. He was down on the ground, staring down his aim fixed right on the bastard's shoulder. Of course he didn't feel bad about hunting, he was hungry and to a greater degree, he hated deer. There were a lot of Gods creatures on this earth he could tolerate, but deer were by far among his top 5. They were dumb as bricks and when they opened their stupid deer mouths and made a noise, it wasn't even pleasant.
The meat was good, though; the hide, the trophy on some of them. Not this one, he decided.
He took a deep breath, and stayed quite silent. This all reminded him of something a little while back, it reminded him of the creatures he hated even worse than deer..
Those damned Metafreaks.
He remembered when he had this very gun fixed on one of them, trying to mug him and scare him off with his freaky fire tricks. But Joseph saw it in that thing's eyes, hesitation. Fresh fear meant his 'mugger' hadn't done this before. He took full advantage of it and as he'd expected, his rifle was faster than the meta's well-hindered response time. There was a clean wound on him, knocked him straight back and he dropped down on the ground, face pale and panicked. He wasn't much to look at, so Joseph was willing too bet that guy bled out, as he turned his back and walked away.
And if he hadn't, he'd learned an important lesson, probably the /only/ way Metas learned lessons.
Only a moment passed since that memory and Joseph took the shot, hit it straight in the shoulder. Probably burned the shot pretty bad, from the looks of it. The thing flailed all left and right and dropped with its harem, fleeing. Joseph got right up, took it by its stupid deer antlers and dragged it back home so he could clean it.
Yeah, this was all he needed. His gun, his dog, his jeep. Of course, heading into town was unavoidable. He'd have to deal with those metas, and the ones he knew were probably metas. The metas in the police force, the town government; it went as far up as the Whitehouse and he just knew it.
The difference between him and the rest of those sheep was that he was prepared. When all those metas inevitably got together and decided to stomp out the men they once called Brothers and Sisters, he was ready for it.
