This Looking For RP topic is marked as closed, meaning it is no longer seeking new players.
In my attempt to provide people with an rp that tries to be something more unique then your typical rp setting and stories, I purpose a Biker RP set in the 1970s. The cliff notes version is your character could be either a existing member of the gang, or someone who is just now getting in, dont worry if you dont know a lot about biker gangs I wont hold it against you, I am no pro either lol. I dont care who or what you are, the only thing I ask is that you are cool with giving decently long and detailed post, I am not the biggest fan of one liners. I often play more then one character, with one of my characters being the main one, and the others being a supporting cast, as I find it gives a lot more story capabilities and fun interactions with the rp. If you are at all interested just give me a message where we can talk a little more on it and get it started! I will provide what my opening scene setter would be down below, so you can get a feel for the rp and how I do things.
A young journalist sits at his desk, lightly tapping his pencil on his paper while he waited for the man he was suppose to be interviewing to come in. He looked up from his notes, as the door opened and a short old man came in. His hair was long and graying, along with his long beard. He wore a leather jacket that on the back read, Exiled Saints MC, 1%. He slowly made his way to his seat and took a long and slow seat down, as his bones ached with each motion."Hi...glad you came in. As you know we are making a documentary over the biker gangs of the 60s and 70s, and the one you where in made some pretty big splashes...however you where the only guy that was affiliated with the gang that I could find...now if I got this correct, you are the guy they call Jess?"He asked.
The man looked up at him and took a deep breath."You aint gonna find many of the others...they all are either did or dont wanna be found...yeah I am Jess..."He told the man
"Oh okay...well then what happened? You guys where terrorizing the neighborhood one day and before we knew it you where all gone..."The Journalist asked
"Look kid...times where complicated..."Old man Jess said as he took another breath."It was the 70s...see all these biker gangs started there peek in the early 60s. However when the 70s came around stuff started to change out of nowhere...you had all these angry guys coming back from 'nam...heck I was one of 'em...and it stopped becoming about just riding our bikes around and having fun, and it started becoming about owning the street. Selling your crops. Making your name feared. One biker bang gets a little too scary, you get scarier, and then they get scarier, and you start this vicious cycle..."The old man took a second to cough before speaking up again."Anyways...when the 70s hit, we where at our highest strides. We out here selling and buying dope, guns, girls, liquor...we took that American dream, tied it to a tree and told it you're mine! You can call us bad guys if you want but you aint in our heads. You did not walk these shoes, and you did not see the horrors that some of us did. We wanted to find a place in a world that had no place for us, and by god we found it. Then one day we got this kid...his name was Jack. We called 'em Jack The Ripper. He wasnt there long, but before we knew it he was our Vice President...and before long he was the reason we fell apart."He said with a chuckle."Things started getting a bit off the chains with him and the boss and the boy caused a little civil war...I was on his side of the whole thing in case you was wondering..."He said as he leaned back in his chair, waiting to see what he had to say.
"Interesting...I never saw any news reports on this...can you tell me more?"The journalist asked.
The old man looked at him with a grin and gave another chuckle
"Heheh....oh boy if youre in for a long story...I will tell you where the problems started to begin..."
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9eLz4DrwF8)
1976- Downtown Michigan
Outside the towns borders on a day ending with a sunset, painting the sky a beautiful orange, was a little shack house sitting quaintly by its self. Its lights where on and it seemed like a few people where in it, having some kind of discussion. Outside where a few motorcycles parked around the entrance. The figures inside moved around a little bit, and suddenly the shack started to shake a little as they seemed to be fighting, tossing things at each other and throwing each other to the ground, followed by the muffled shouts of the men inside.
Suddenly the sounds of a brawl where replaced with the sounds a loud burst of gun fire.
The windows lit up with flashes as the sounds of gunfire pounded past the walls, and the shouts getting louder before it started to get a little more quite.
It was silent for a moment before the door smashed open, and three men ran out of it.
"ALRIGHT BOYS LETS GET OUT OF HERE!"One of them said as he hopped on his bike, and brought it to life. The two others followed suit, and they all revved there engines, coursing the roaring lions of there engines through the sky as they stormed down the dirt road away from the shack.
The three blazed past cars along there way, ignoring any road regulations as they separated as much distance between them and the shack they could. The three road in unison, forming a triangle formation as they rode. Each wore a leather jacket, with there emblem on the back. The Exiled Saints.
To the right of the three was a man with long flowing hair and beard. The man went by the name Jesus, mainly because of his looks. He was the Road Captain of the Saints, a low ranking, yet highly respected member of the group. He was sort of like a district manager at a McDonalds in that sense
To the left of three was a man with his hair long, yet shorter then Jesus's, with a strong look to his face. This was Jess, the Treasurer, tasked with handling the gangs money and spending habits, and probably one of the more important cogs in the gangs machine.
And leading the small pack was the man with the gun. Vice President, Jack Mcgregor. He had slicked back black hair with a short beard, smiling a little as he rode through the late afternoon with his brothers
After they drove a little ways the three cracked a smile and sighs of relief.
"That got a little messed up back there..."Jesus called out to Jack.
"Could have been worse...they could have shot back you know..."Jack said with a chuckle."We ran away with a bag of cash, some coke, and a couple of dead bodies for the Wolf Pack to find...I think all things considered it turned out to be a pretty good night!"
"I hope you're right...those guys really dont like being...killed and all you know. And if they find out you did it...well you wont need a bounty on your head for them to want you dead."Jess told him
"Let em come...I dont think kill count is higher out here then it was in 'nam...should fix that..."He said with a chuckle."Im joking of course...dont worry about me I will be fine. And I know my brothers will be there to help if I need it."Said Jack
The trio of men drove through the highways of the city, watching as the sun slowly set down, sending stars through the skys to illuminate the roads as they drove through the back roads of Michigan. The three found themselves home after a moment of riding.
Home was a bar called Marlys Retreat, located just before the city borders start. It was a popular enough joint, drawing in a good amount of people. The place had a very warm feeling to it, with the people seeming rather friendly for you typical biker bunch that was crowded in it, along with its rock music playing softly in the background. Better yet, it was a great front for its real purpous, keeping the biker gangs operations out of sight. Just behind a locked door laid a lair of renegades, and ruffians. A cesspool of sin to some, home to others. The three parked there bikes outside the Bar, and walked through its doors. The smell of cigarettes and beer filled there lungs as they walked through the bar, not casting a glance to anyone as they walked through with their bags of cash and cocaine."Hows it goin Bryan."Jess said to a guy as they walked passed. They made there ways to a back room where there was a classic metal door with a slide for someone to look through. Jack raised his hand to it and gave it a tap tapity tap tap, and the doors eye hole slid open."Whats the password."The man asked."Shove it Joseph you know your Vice when you see him dont you..."Jack said as he brought his eyes down to the door to meet the mans on the other side."I uh...sorry sir..."The man said as he opened to door for him."No problem prospect...keep the door in check youre doing a good job..."He said as he patted the guys shoulder while he walked into the underground bunker of the Exiled Saints head quarters. The atmosphere was a bit like the bars, but more personal as it had couches and chairs all around with stringed lights decorating the ceiling for some laid back lighting. Rock songs played through the stereo while men played poker and arm wrestling with each other, most of the drunk, high, or both. Jack shook his head at them, glad that he did not partake in such activities.
"Ah theres my boy...judging by you coming back in good health I take it you where successful?"
A large man with long blonde hair, and a eye patch stood up from his seat as the three walked in. This man was Noland, the gangs president. He was a mean looking man, with his body covered in scars, more then almost anyone else in the room."Sir yes sir...go ahead and count the money out yourself."Jack said as he tossed him the bag. Noland chuckled."I think thats the treasurers duty."He said as he tossed the bag over to Jess."Oh dang it...alright Ill count it out....again...."Jess said as he walked off to a separate room with the bag. Noland smiled as Jess walked off and he approached Jack with his arms wide open."Proud of you as always kid."He said as he hugged Jack. Jack rolled his eyes with a smile as lightly hugged him back."Some tough guy huh...youre a bit too much a hugger..."Jack said with a small laugh. Noland laughed with him as he pulled away from the hug and looked down at his shirt, seeing he got some blood oh him from the hug."Oh whats this?...tomato?"Noland asked."Nah I uh...we kinda got in a bit of a fight. Dont worry there shouldnt be any witnesses."Jack said. Noland smiled and shook his head."Welp...thats why we call you Jack The Ripper...go get yourself cleaned up and get a bit of rest kid. You earned it. If you dont mind me, I got some money to spend now."Noland said with a cheeky smile as he walked off to where Jess was heading.
Jack looked back at Jesus and the two shared a fist bump."Thanks for being there for me brother. You need anything just let me know"He told him."Aye any day man. You know I like to suck up to the bosses."He said jokingly as he went to go join some of the men in a game of poker. Jack took off his jacket and tossed it over his shoulder, before heading to the showers to get himself cleaned up.
It was people like this that made the job worth it. Maybe you had to crack some skulls and sale people the product of there death, but if you where like Jack and had no where else to go, but something to prove, you would find friends and family behind that door at the back of the bar.
A young journalist sits at his desk, lightly tapping his pencil on his paper while he waited for the man he was suppose to be interviewing to come in. He looked up from his notes, as the door opened and a short old man came in. His hair was long and graying, along with his long beard. He wore a leather jacket that on the back read, Exiled Saints MC, 1%. He slowly made his way to his seat and took a long and slow seat down, as his bones ached with each motion."Hi...glad you came in. As you know we are making a documentary over the biker gangs of the 60s and 70s, and the one you where in made some pretty big splashes...however you where the only guy that was affiliated with the gang that I could find...now if I got this correct, you are the guy they call Jess?"He asked.
The man looked up at him and took a deep breath."You aint gonna find many of the others...they all are either did or dont wanna be found...yeah I am Jess..."He told the man
"Oh okay...well then what happened? You guys where terrorizing the neighborhood one day and before we knew it you where all gone..."The Journalist asked
"Look kid...times where complicated..."Old man Jess said as he took another breath."It was the 70s...see all these biker gangs started there peek in the early 60s. However when the 70s came around stuff started to change out of nowhere...you had all these angry guys coming back from 'nam...heck I was one of 'em...and it stopped becoming about just riding our bikes around and having fun, and it started becoming about owning the street. Selling your crops. Making your name feared. One biker bang gets a little too scary, you get scarier, and then they get scarier, and you start this vicious cycle..."The old man took a second to cough before speaking up again."Anyways...when the 70s hit, we where at our highest strides. We out here selling and buying dope, guns, girls, liquor...we took that American dream, tied it to a tree and told it you're mine! You can call us bad guys if you want but you aint in our heads. You did not walk these shoes, and you did not see the horrors that some of us did. We wanted to find a place in a world that had no place for us, and by god we found it. Then one day we got this kid...his name was Jack. We called 'em Jack The Ripper. He wasnt there long, but before we knew it he was our Vice President...and before long he was the reason we fell apart."He said with a chuckle."Things started getting a bit off the chains with him and the boss and the boy caused a little civil war...I was on his side of the whole thing in case you was wondering..."He said as he leaned back in his chair, waiting to see what he had to say.
"Interesting...I never saw any news reports on this...can you tell me more?"The journalist asked.
The old man looked at him with a grin and gave another chuckle
"Heheh....oh boy if youre in for a long story...I will tell you where the problems started to begin..."
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9eLz4DrwF8)
1976- Downtown Michigan
Outside the towns borders on a day ending with a sunset, painting the sky a beautiful orange, was a little shack house sitting quaintly by its self. Its lights where on and it seemed like a few people where in it, having some kind of discussion. Outside where a few motorcycles parked around the entrance. The figures inside moved around a little bit, and suddenly the shack started to shake a little as they seemed to be fighting, tossing things at each other and throwing each other to the ground, followed by the muffled shouts of the men inside.
Suddenly the sounds of a brawl where replaced with the sounds a loud burst of gun fire.
The windows lit up with flashes as the sounds of gunfire pounded past the walls, and the shouts getting louder before it started to get a little more quite.
It was silent for a moment before the door smashed open, and three men ran out of it.
"ALRIGHT BOYS LETS GET OUT OF HERE!"One of them said as he hopped on his bike, and brought it to life. The two others followed suit, and they all revved there engines, coursing the roaring lions of there engines through the sky as they stormed down the dirt road away from the shack.
The three blazed past cars along there way, ignoring any road regulations as they separated as much distance between them and the shack they could. The three road in unison, forming a triangle formation as they rode. Each wore a leather jacket, with there emblem on the back. The Exiled Saints.
To the right of the three was a man with long flowing hair and beard. The man went by the name Jesus, mainly because of his looks. He was the Road Captain of the Saints, a low ranking, yet highly respected member of the group. He was sort of like a district manager at a McDonalds in that sense
To the left of three was a man with his hair long, yet shorter then Jesus's, with a strong look to his face. This was Jess, the Treasurer, tasked with handling the gangs money and spending habits, and probably one of the more important cogs in the gangs machine.
And leading the small pack was the man with the gun. Vice President, Jack Mcgregor. He had slicked back black hair with a short beard, smiling a little as he rode through the late afternoon with his brothers
After they drove a little ways the three cracked a smile and sighs of relief.
"That got a little messed up back there..."Jesus called out to Jack.
"Could have been worse...they could have shot back you know..."Jack said with a chuckle."We ran away with a bag of cash, some coke, and a couple of dead bodies for the Wolf Pack to find...I think all things considered it turned out to be a pretty good night!"
"I hope you're right...those guys really dont like being...killed and all you know. And if they find out you did it...well you wont need a bounty on your head for them to want you dead."Jess told him
"Let em come...I dont think kill count is higher out here then it was in 'nam...should fix that..."He said with a chuckle."Im joking of course...dont worry about me I will be fine. And I know my brothers will be there to help if I need it."Said Jack
The trio of men drove through the highways of the city, watching as the sun slowly set down, sending stars through the skys to illuminate the roads as they drove through the back roads of Michigan. The three found themselves home after a moment of riding.
Home was a bar called Marlys Retreat, located just before the city borders start. It was a popular enough joint, drawing in a good amount of people. The place had a very warm feeling to it, with the people seeming rather friendly for you typical biker bunch that was crowded in it, along with its rock music playing softly in the background. Better yet, it was a great front for its real purpous, keeping the biker gangs operations out of sight. Just behind a locked door laid a lair of renegades, and ruffians. A cesspool of sin to some, home to others. The three parked there bikes outside the Bar, and walked through its doors. The smell of cigarettes and beer filled there lungs as they walked through the bar, not casting a glance to anyone as they walked through with their bags of cash and cocaine."Hows it goin Bryan."Jess said to a guy as they walked passed. They made there ways to a back room where there was a classic metal door with a slide for someone to look through. Jack raised his hand to it and gave it a tap tapity tap tap, and the doors eye hole slid open."Whats the password."The man asked."Shove it Joseph you know your Vice when you see him dont you..."Jack said as he brought his eyes down to the door to meet the mans on the other side."I uh...sorry sir..."The man said as he opened to door for him."No problem prospect...keep the door in check youre doing a good job..."He said as he patted the guys shoulder while he walked into the underground bunker of the Exiled Saints head quarters. The atmosphere was a bit like the bars, but more personal as it had couches and chairs all around with stringed lights decorating the ceiling for some laid back lighting. Rock songs played through the stereo while men played poker and arm wrestling with each other, most of the drunk, high, or both. Jack shook his head at them, glad that he did not partake in such activities.
"Ah theres my boy...judging by you coming back in good health I take it you where successful?"
A large man with long blonde hair, and a eye patch stood up from his seat as the three walked in. This man was Noland, the gangs president. He was a mean looking man, with his body covered in scars, more then almost anyone else in the room."Sir yes sir...go ahead and count the money out yourself."Jack said as he tossed him the bag. Noland chuckled."I think thats the treasurers duty."He said as he tossed the bag over to Jess."Oh dang it...alright Ill count it out....again...."Jess said as he walked off to a separate room with the bag. Noland smiled as Jess walked off and he approached Jack with his arms wide open."Proud of you as always kid."He said as he hugged Jack. Jack rolled his eyes with a smile as lightly hugged him back."Some tough guy huh...youre a bit too much a hugger..."Jack said with a small laugh. Noland laughed with him as he pulled away from the hug and looked down at his shirt, seeing he got some blood oh him from the hug."Oh whats this?...tomato?"Noland asked."Nah I uh...we kinda got in a bit of a fight. Dont worry there shouldnt be any witnesses."Jack said. Noland smiled and shook his head."Welp...thats why we call you Jack The Ripper...go get yourself cleaned up and get a bit of rest kid. You earned it. If you dont mind me, I got some money to spend now."Noland said with a cheeky smile as he walked off to where Jess was heading.
Jack looked back at Jesus and the two shared a fist bump."Thanks for being there for me brother. You need anything just let me know"He told him."Aye any day man. You know I like to suck up to the bosses."He said jokingly as he went to go join some of the men in a game of poker. Jack took off his jacket and tossed it over his shoulder, before heading to the showers to get himself cleaned up.
It was people like this that made the job worth it. Maybe you had to crack some skulls and sale people the product of there death, but if you where like Jack and had no where else to go, but something to prove, you would find friends and family behind that door at the back of the bar.
No magic at all.
Modern
More combat than not. The setting may be at war, and the characters will likely get involved whether or not they seek it out.
Details: Freeform, adjustable length posts, long-term RP partner preferred.
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