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Tom shifted his gaze from John to the man that had approached them, he concentrated for a long while, before he finally recognised the face, "Well if you walk further down this road and look to your right you should see Sammy's market, he usually keeps in stock with supplies", Tom smiled and...

I think my opening post is rather adequate, it's already giving Tom a reason to be in the RP.

Tom sat on the porch of his ranch looking out at the sun, drinking whiskey from a spirit glass. As he quickly took a swig, the man sitting next to him on a rocking chair looked at him and chuckled. He was the same age as Tom, yet there was much more wisdom in his eyes, his hair was rugged yet...

Sorry for the double-post, but it's probably best I mention most of my character's bio only make sense if you were in any of the RP's I was involved in, or followed them in any way.

I know I popped my character sheet on.

Name: Thomas Searl Age: 24 Gender: Male Occupation: Ranch Owner Eyes: Brown Hair Colour: Brown Height: 6'2'' Weight: 153lbs Complexion: Caucasian Bio: Born in England in the lord's year of 2251, he lived in his small ramshackle village until a raiding party came into the towns and...

Hey i'm still in this RP, can't wait to get to the good stuff, to think it's been a year or something.

Oh god, I haven't been here for a while, my internet has died thus I have to visit my uncles house to use the internet. I've noticed, the RP has kinda' died hasn't it.

Tom slunk down toards the floor, staring at the 10 caps prize in front of him, "Damn, David...you ain't getting what I have left", his stomach felt like someone stabbed him, stuffed him full of shit, and punched him right back in the stomach, it started coming up his throat. He started...

Tom's stomach starting turning as the milky piss hit it, and hit it hard. "Jesus", Tom fell onto his side from his kneeling position, he could feel it ready to come back up, but he was a man of pride, and a 10 cap bet was going to try and keep him from spewing it out.

Tom grasped the bottle, sniffing the bottle, "Fuck, what is this?", he took a second sniff, "Is..is this piss?", Tom twisted his face at Pawnsy, smirking at the doctor's ingenuity, "Is it best I don't ask". Tom sat himself up against a wall, pulling the bottle to his face just as he starting...

Tom looked up at Pawnsy, "Oh good, I dunno what it was, but it looked like whiskey, and it look", Tom groaned, "Unopened, I thought it was safe Pawnsy, the whiskey, it's in the rightenmost pouch on my belt, good luck with finding out what it is?".

Tom's face was pressed hard against the concrete floor, "Awww, Carib mate that 'whisky' done me in good", he took a large intake of breath as the pain became more and more blunt.

Tom fully opened his eyes and noticed Evan wasn't there at all, he lightly chuckled, but it hurt his stomach too much, "Thanks...Jacob, mate", Jacob staggered over, and Tom's head smacked hard off of Jacob's shoulder, "Fuuuuuck..".

Tom followed Jacob, "Hey i'll come with you, see if there isn anything I can patch my armour with", he shifted his glance to Crandall, "Crandall, huh? I had a friend called Crandall once, my name is Tom", Tom smirked and chuckled awkwardely. Tom noticed a desk with drawers on the underneath...

Hey I was thinking that my guy could look for a hunting rifle to repair his own with, then while he is away from the group the fuel could hit him, that mixed with the hangover shouldn't be good.

Sure will.

Well, the pain in Tom's stomach'll just be the massive hangover he's suppossed to have.

You got to admit his point though about the Spanish Green Berets, it's not the American Green Berets, it's the spanish. They're not in NATO and haven't been in a war since 1920 something.

I wouldn't count this as me, but my uncle has a Lee Enfield bolt-action rifle he inherited of his dad from WW2. Don't know many details about it, it's hiding in his cupboard.