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Clyde

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About Clyde

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  1. Clyde

    [PP-F24] Anything Goes

    Ah, what a beautiful day? I can’t believe ain’t nothin’ comin’ here ti bother me while I watch the ocean move. The cowboy smiles, looking over the cliff at the ocean. His legs dangle over the edge and his hat rests on a bottle of booze. His poncho sits just far enough back that if he were to lay down it’d make a pillow. Too bad my little brother ain’t here to see this. He’d love this place. He chuckles and puffs on his cigar, his bedraggled hair is swept back by his other hand. It looks like the ending of a movie almost, after the drifter hero had saved the girl and decided it’d be better to leave her be rather than ruin her life by being in it. I’ll see ‘im when I get out. He looks over to follow the shore line, see if there’s anyway to get down to the ground, when suddenly a rodent or critter of some kind comes to a halt just short of the cliff and Clyde reaches down to grab his belt, the knife in the sheath dangling down as he picks it up and puts it on. ”Well I’ll be damned. I’m not alone out here.” He kicks his bare feet up onto the ground beneath him, gabbing his boots and putting them on. After about a minute of hopping around and throwing on his outfit, the man finally puts his hat on his head. His spurs ring true as he cuts through the shrubbery and sees a man, holding the critter from before and walking away. “Howdy mister? Is that your little long rat there?” He asks, his southern accent making it smooth as all heck. @Mishiro
  2. Clyde

    [PP - F1] <Secret Medicine of the Forest>

    ((OOC: Sorry for taking so long, time seemed to just slip by.)) Clyde’s hand releases the boy’s as the new person approaches and introduces himself. This man looks entirely different from the two players that were already here, and Clyde just smiles. “Well looks like we got ourselves a merry band of misfits here now.” The southern accent being just the right intensity to sound real. His and comes up and tilts his small black hat at the new player. “Name’s Clyde, Pleasure to meet ya’.” He drops his hand down to his waist and rests them on his hips. Well this may just be a fun little excursion. Maybe after I’ll go back and fish for another few hours. He pulls the cigar out of his mouth again, blowing the smoke into the air and ashing it before placing it between his teeth once more. His red poncho is probably an irregular sight to all the players around, and his entire outfit underneath probably gets the same reaction. His hand comes up and opens his inventory. “This ain’t gonna be one-a them stupid quests where ya ain’t really fightin’, is it?” He asks as he removes the red cape. His outfit looked more like a regular texan at this point, and less of a drifter or a stranger with no name. @Haltar Dhrim @Kazzy
  3. Clyde

    [PP - F1] <Secret Medicine of the Forest>

    So bar hopping and drinking his sorrows away didn’t work like they did in the real world, so what? Didn’t make it any less fun in this one. Just made him taste every last drop of that Tennessee Whiskey the way it was meant to be drank. Why, this ain’t half bad when you’re sober. Of course, it’s better drunk, cause then I don’t realize how much of that damn col stuff I’m spendin’. He sets his glass down and the ice settles, making a clink as the man stands up and turns, noticing the bulletin board as he picks his hat up off of the bar. “My my... A note. Wonder if this feller is still waiting there.” He looks at the note closely and thinks for a moment, putting a cigar in his mouth. “Hey barkeep, how long’s this notice been up?” He asks, getting a satisfactory answer and equipping his gear. Might as well go on and see what’s up... If it ain’t nothin’ special I’ll just go fishin’. He lights his cigar and walks out of the tavern. About two days later, the sun has nearly reached it’s apex and the man had made it to this run of the mill village, seeing people walk around and wondering who this Haltar feller was. He walks over to the first person he sees and asks for Haltar. The player’s reaction wasn’t a positive one, but not negative enough to draw much attention. After a few more tries he finally sees a brown haired player and walks up to him. “Howdy, would you happen to know who this Halter... Altar... however that damned name is pronounced?” He tilts his hat, puffing on a cigar and smiling kindly. @Haltar Dhrim @Kazzy
  4. Clyde

    [F1-PP] Scavenging for Stuff

    “I was lookin’ for me a lake to go fishin’ in. Of course, this one here is great, but I’d like a larger lake.” He smiles confidently and pulls his cigar out of his mouth, releasing more smoke and throwing the last little bit away as it explodes into blue shards. “Anyways, what was it? Rushdown, can I call you Rush? Wanna gather some materials with a humble cowboy.” He tilts his black gambler hat and smirks a little. I wonder if he knows his plants. He turns and starts walking, hoping to god the guy follows. “Raisin’ hell on your own is just lame, come on old pal, let’s ride.” His spurs clang as he walks, his poncho covering the majority of his torso. The man had done his damnedest to look like the cowboys from the movies. “So... what’re you up to Rush? I’m sorry I popped up out of nowhere and invited ya on this little adventure.” He turns towards the player and puts a pouch of dip in his lip. “I know it’s gotta be scary them player killers out there.” He turns and starts walking, this time waiting to see if the player had accepted his invite. @Rushdown
  5. Clyde

    [F1-PP] Scavenging for Stuff

    The man had made his way out to the lake, planning to fish all day and head back to his favorite honkey tonk to party all night. The water was warm, but not too warm, and the water while relatively still, moved just slightly, breaking the reflection of the sun in a beautiful way that reminded the cowboy of the pond on his dad’s farm. “Ah, I’d reckon this is home to a bass or two. Can’t go noodlin’ though, too many small critters.” He looks around, hearing footsteps from not so far away. “Ooh, I could have myself a posse.” His spurs on his boots clink as he cuts through the shrubbery and out to see a player in the grass. “Howdy!” He shouts to the other player, puffing on his cigar and releasing smoke, as he tips his hat with his other hand. Having greeted the player, the man would walk up to him and extend his arm for a handshake, smiling like the devilish cowboy he is. “Name’s Clyde, and you are?” He asks, tilting his head up, but in a respectful manner. @Rushdown
  6. Clyde’s hand comes up and scratches his beard. “Then what’re we doing standing here? We’ve got an [censored] to whoop.” He claps, turning and walking towards the shop that so many people had told him about. The spurs on is boots made quietly walking to the shop and getting out impossible. His black hat finds its place on his head once again as he enters the shop. “Howdy sir, are you the one who wants that elf dead? Because I’ll gladly take the poor guy down.” He says, the blacksmith explaining the story behind the quest while Clyde smokes and listens. These npcs alway take forever to explain things. If only there was an option to skip. His hands wrap around his belt buckle in the classic cowboy pose. “Well, me and my posse will get this mangy dog and the bounty will go to that buckaroo right there.” he points towards Ragnarok, as the blacksmith nods and offers to give them armor in return for their troubles. @Ragnarok
  7. Clyde enters the shop, having heard his item was completed. His hat comes off and his southern accent comes out, “I’ll be damned, you creative types sure work fast.” He walks over, handing the man a pouch of materials and gabbing the dagger. His hand pulls the sheathe off of the blade and he examines the engraving with an intent gaze. The sheathe moves over to his belt and he smiles. “I might just have to become a regular.” He smiles towards the shop owner with his country boy charisma taking control. “Well, thank ya fer the tennessee tickler, I’ll be on my way now.” He steps out of the shop and into the town once again. -Obtained: <<Billy’s Last Ride>>
  8. Clyde

    [F1 Tailor Shop] "The Hanger"

    Clyde had received a message from the tailor who was paid for the task of making a new hat for the man. Wow, all ready? I reckon this man might be the best one around here. He walks into the shop, having waited a day since he last showed up, his legs carry him into the shop. “Well that was fast, you know how to run yourself a business sir. You must be a very sharp man.” He says to the man, grabbing the hat off of the counter and putting it on, replacing his dull brown hat. His spurs click with a tune like that of bells being muffled by a hand on the cap. -obtained: <<Gambler’s Hat>>
  9. Clyde has heard about the blazing typhoon from passers by, his interest had piqued and he gave in. “I reckon I should check this shop out.” He walks in, removing his hat so as to not be rude. His spurs clink as he walks in and looks around the building. The general setup is a classy blacksmith shop, a man sits in the back and Clyde’s head tips towards him. “Why, you wouldn’t happen to be the proprietor of this establishment, would ya pardner?” He asks, moving over and filling out a request. After his request is complete he turns towards the owner and smiles, turning and walking out. -6 T1 Mats
  10. Clyde

    [F1 Tailor Shop] "The Hanger"

    Clyde entered the shop he had heard of so few times before, the man’s hat resting on his head as he tries to figure out the way around this shop. He finally realizes what to do and starts filling out an order. What should I get? A new hat? A new poncho? His hand strokes the scruff of his stubble, thinking. He finally lands on a decision as he smiles, his cigar releasing a little bit of smoke, more pouring out of his smoke “I reckon this should about cover it.” His transaction menu opens up as he transfers the specified amount of col. With that the man walks out of the shop, shooting a finger gun and winking. -1100 col
  11. Arthur had heard about hunting elves out in the woods on the third floor. These pointy eared freaks are always so frickin’ snobby in these sorts of games. I reckon I could take them down a peg. His hand falls on his dagger as he walks through the streets towards the shop offering the quest. His eyes scan the other players because these quests are always boring, and he would like to bring someone to talk to while he killed the enemy. “Howdy sir, would you like to accompany an old cowboy on a little adventure?” His question answered with a roll of the eyes and the player he asked walking away. This same reaction coming from a few more players until he approaches another man. His hat is removed before his southern drawl carries out a question. “Howdy sir? Would you like to take a walk with me? I might have to kill an elf, but that’s beside the point.” He smiles, his cigar dancing as he does. @Ragnarok
  12. Clyde chuckles at the lady for a moment. “Nah, It wasn’t to help you, my steppin’ In. It was to whoop a man’s [censored].” He puffs on the cigar, releasing some smoke and putting his cigar out, watching it disappear into crystal shards. This ain’t gonna go too well. He pulls his hat off out of respect for the lady. “I reckon you could’ve handled it yourself, hell, I know you could’ve and without any trouble. I just saw an oppurtunity to have some fun and took it. Now I’ll be on my merry way and you can move out of it, ma’am.” He walks past the woman, his spurs sing with every step he takes. There truly wasn’t any reason for him to have stepped in other than a good ol’ fashioned beat down, but he took the chance. Why not have fun in this game? “Actually ma’am, if you don’t mind my askin’, would you like to accompany me on a quest? Might not be fun but it’s free experience.” He smiles politely, right before putting a pinch of chew in his mouth. @Embers
  13. Arthur’s left eyebrow raised itself. She has no idea how much hard work goes into real farming. Of course I added in a real touch to the in game gathering system, so she probably thinks I’m stupid. He looks at her after her sarcastic question. “Yes. ‘Til he was 20 he went town to town bein’ a farmhand until he reached my hometown. Reality can be more surreal than you think, redcoat.” He puffs on his cigar, putting it out and tossing it away. “I’m lookin’ for a cattle dog.” He frowns at the next comment and looks at her. “So I said somethin’ stupid. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a little stupid.” He nods toward her with a smile on his face. “But you ever go and get yerself lost in them woods in the real world, ya go’n need that knowledge to make it back home. Can’t ask your queen for with no cell service, can ya?” He chuckles a little. “I’m just playin’, just stay safe ya know?” He leans forwards and walks to where the sage was. “That’s not the only plant in the world.” His spurs sing as he walks deeper into the woods and comes across a path, the path he was on before. @Kirbs
  14. A Brit? Oh boy, this ain’t go’n go too smoothly now will it? His hand flips the dagger and sheathes it in an instant. “Ah, good ol’ fashioned farming? Well I know a thing or two about that.” He drops down, pointing at a plant and taking note of its size and shape. “This one here is sage, but it ain’t ready yet. Y’ain’t go’n have too much luck pickin’ that.” His knife drops down and breaks the stem in a masterful technique. “Smells like sage too, damn Kayaba, you had way too much time on your hands.” The object begins to decay before the two. “When it ain’t ready, that’s what happens. In real life you just can’t use it.” His legs straighten as he stands up tall once again, lumbering over to lean against a tree. “Once you learn your plants well enough, you can gather like a pro. But don’t forget to replant, cause here’s a tip... nothing grows when the seed ain’t planted.” A smirk crosses his face. This was the same talk he had given one of his brothers when hunting. The talk was a modified version of course, because they were in a game where anything you can’t use disappears, but it was the same baseline. “This one time, my dad got lost while taking us boys huntin’ and we had to survive on our own for a bit. That’s when he taught us how to identify, assess and prepare food in the wild.” A weak chuckle places itself in the middle of his sentence. “That’s when I realized my dad was a real cowboy.” He looks at the ground, his smile gone as he fiddles with his knife. @Kirbs
  15. Clyde

    Face Claim Thread

    Clyde: McCree - Overwatch
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