Post by cowboy on Mar 4, 2011 0:13:53 GMT -5
(Howdy Sportsfans! Pippin here. Hope I did this right...)
Name: Jack Kelly (a.k.a. Francis Sullivan)
RP Sample:
The sun was warm, the breeze was cool, and all around the city streets were abuzz with the activity of market-goers, and in the air hung the bitter-sweet aroma of restaurant backwash and dissipated car fumes. Yep, it was days like these Jack Kelly counted himself lucky to be alive. Of course, not every day was so nice. Only last week he had to outrun a couple of the bulls who thought his sales pitch was more than a little unorthodox, but that was nothing new. These people didn’t appreciate the certain artistic quality he brought to the business. So he made people’s lives a little more interesting than they otherwise would have been. Was that so bad? He didn’t think so. He didn’t think the cops should think so either, personally, but that was beyond his control. The last thing he wanted to do was end up back in the Refuge again. God help him if he ever saw the inside of that place again…
But his daydreaming was abruptly interrupted by the sharp impact of something small and rounded into his midsection, and he gave a chuff of discomfort as he looked down to see what the offending object was. It was a head, and it belonged to a small, brown haired boy that couldn’t be more than 8 if he was a day. “Hey kid, watch where yer goin’” he admonished, smirking as the wild eyed youngster gave a gasp of surprise and mumbled a hasty apology into his shoes.
“I’m sorry, I…I…hey, wait a minute.” A moment of dawning crossed the kid’s face. “Yer that kid….”
“What kid?” Jack asked, incredulously, as though thoroughly uninterested that the youngster had recognized him. He wasn’t exactly unknown in these parts. In fact, he had spent quite the bit of time and effort ensuring that his well-built reputation stayed intact around here. That, and that he didn’t get too noticed by the wrong sort of people. Not that this kid seemed like the wrong sort…
“You know…what’d they call ya…Cowboy, right?”
Jack chuckled. For an eight year old, he must pay pretty fair attention. “You listen good, kid. Yeah, that’s me, what’s it to ya?” He asked, taking a step forward and staring down over his nose at the younger boy. To his surprise, and pleasure, really, the young boy didn’t falter, but instead his eyes grew just noticeably wider before he struggled to collect himself. The boy mustered the best image of casualness he could manage (which, though not altogether convincing, was admirable, Jack had to admit).
“So I hear yer the best. Y’know, I was watchin’ you just now…I think you’d sell more papes if you stuck closer to the truth. Appeal to people’s…you know…sensitive side…”
He glanced at his shoes for a moment before staring back up at him, as though deciding that he, was, in fact, ready to back up what he just said.
This only made Jack laugh all the more loudly, and he shook his head at the boy. The kid had guts, and he admired that. Far too many people, adults included, were content to simply roll over for the status quo nowadays. Not this kid. “Y’know something kid? Yer alright. I think I like you.” He tousled the kid’s hair in a patronizing fashion, to which the boy made a disgruntled face. “You think you can show me a thing or to do ya? Well, tell ya what. I’ll give ya the chance. You tag along with me for a day, and we’ll just see who teaches who a thing or two about selling papes. Deal?”
The kid tried to consider for a moment, but it was evident in his expression that he was all too eager to take Jack up on his offer. He nodded enthusiastically. “Ya mean it?”
“Course I do, kid. I’m a man o’ my word.” With a grin, Jack spit in his palm and extended his hand to the boy, who returned the gesture with barely a moment’s hesitation. Good, he’d have some company on his rounds today. That always made things more interesting. Besides, he thought, looking at the round, innocent face that looked back at him all too eagerly; who could resist a face like that? Not his customers, that was for sure. Yep, today was going to be a good day. He could feel it.
(If you'd like something a little more personal or in a different setting (not 100% sure where in the storyline this rp is set), then I'd be happy to work something else up for you.)
Name: Jack Kelly (a.k.a. Francis Sullivan)
RP Sample:
The sun was warm, the breeze was cool, and all around the city streets were abuzz with the activity of market-goers, and in the air hung the bitter-sweet aroma of restaurant backwash and dissipated car fumes. Yep, it was days like these Jack Kelly counted himself lucky to be alive. Of course, not every day was so nice. Only last week he had to outrun a couple of the bulls who thought his sales pitch was more than a little unorthodox, but that was nothing new. These people didn’t appreciate the certain artistic quality he brought to the business. So he made people’s lives a little more interesting than they otherwise would have been. Was that so bad? He didn’t think so. He didn’t think the cops should think so either, personally, but that was beyond his control. The last thing he wanted to do was end up back in the Refuge again. God help him if he ever saw the inside of that place again…
But his daydreaming was abruptly interrupted by the sharp impact of something small and rounded into his midsection, and he gave a chuff of discomfort as he looked down to see what the offending object was. It was a head, and it belonged to a small, brown haired boy that couldn’t be more than 8 if he was a day. “Hey kid, watch where yer goin’” he admonished, smirking as the wild eyed youngster gave a gasp of surprise and mumbled a hasty apology into his shoes.
“I’m sorry, I…I…hey, wait a minute.” A moment of dawning crossed the kid’s face. “Yer that kid….”
“What kid?” Jack asked, incredulously, as though thoroughly uninterested that the youngster had recognized him. He wasn’t exactly unknown in these parts. In fact, he had spent quite the bit of time and effort ensuring that his well-built reputation stayed intact around here. That, and that he didn’t get too noticed by the wrong sort of people. Not that this kid seemed like the wrong sort…
“You know…what’d they call ya…Cowboy, right?”
Jack chuckled. For an eight year old, he must pay pretty fair attention. “You listen good, kid. Yeah, that’s me, what’s it to ya?” He asked, taking a step forward and staring down over his nose at the younger boy. To his surprise, and pleasure, really, the young boy didn’t falter, but instead his eyes grew just noticeably wider before he struggled to collect himself. The boy mustered the best image of casualness he could manage (which, though not altogether convincing, was admirable, Jack had to admit).
“So I hear yer the best. Y’know, I was watchin’ you just now…I think you’d sell more papes if you stuck closer to the truth. Appeal to people’s…you know…sensitive side…”
He glanced at his shoes for a moment before staring back up at him, as though deciding that he, was, in fact, ready to back up what he just said.
This only made Jack laugh all the more loudly, and he shook his head at the boy. The kid had guts, and he admired that. Far too many people, adults included, were content to simply roll over for the status quo nowadays. Not this kid. “Y’know something kid? Yer alright. I think I like you.” He tousled the kid’s hair in a patronizing fashion, to which the boy made a disgruntled face. “You think you can show me a thing or to do ya? Well, tell ya what. I’ll give ya the chance. You tag along with me for a day, and we’ll just see who teaches who a thing or two about selling papes. Deal?”
The kid tried to consider for a moment, but it was evident in his expression that he was all too eager to take Jack up on his offer. He nodded enthusiastically. “Ya mean it?”
“Course I do, kid. I’m a man o’ my word.” With a grin, Jack spit in his palm and extended his hand to the boy, who returned the gesture with barely a moment’s hesitation. Good, he’d have some company on his rounds today. That always made things more interesting. Besides, he thought, looking at the round, innocent face that looked back at him all too eagerly; who could resist a face like that? Not his customers, that was for sure. Yep, today was going to be a good day. He could feel it.
(If you'd like something a little more personal or in a different setting (not 100% sure where in the storyline this rp is set), then I'd be happy to work something else up for you.)
