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Born: 15 April 1985
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ALIAS: MEG
QUOTE: IF IT AINT BROKE...
MP3: http://www.daddylongnecks.com/mp3s/HotRodLincoln.mp3
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BIOGRAPHY: http://liewithyourbones.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=389
OCCUPATION: MECHANIC
FACTION: REAVERS
TITLE: THE BOYSCOUT
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Last Seen: Oct 6 2015, 09:19 PM
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CLANK

CIVILIAN

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Aug 21 2015, 07:22 PM
So, alot has happened over the past week. My husband, who was working a grueling, low-pay, shitty job, got a call from his old job (trucking out of Memphis cross-country) begging him to come back with more off time and a higher pay rate. Um, fuck yes?

So, I spent last weekend getting him packed and we spent the first part of this week in Memphis getting him all set up to head out. So now he's on the road and the last part of this week has been me helping my baby brother get all his crap together so he can move into his dorm tomorrow.....because there's nothing like waiting till the last gawddamned moment to do something, amirite?!

-_-


So, anyways, it's been a great week, don't get me wrong, but I've been so busy I havent posted an away notice because the human body needs sleep between babying a full grown man and getting a baby brother to man the fuck up. (Long story. He's a mama's boy. Actually I guess it's not a long story, but anyways, my brother is the biggest drama llama ever.)

So, tomorrow is move in day, Praise Jesus, and tomorrow night I'm getting some tequila on the way home and getting turnt the fuck up. Just fyi. So, I say all that to say this: Don't look for me until Sunday night - if then, because my SIL might drag me to church because somebody had a baby? IDGAF, but whatever. Cake, ya know?

Anyways, I should be back in full swing on Monday. <3 Miss yall!


This effects Clank, Cabron, and Rose, obvs.
Jul 16 2015, 01:07 AM
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WORD COUNT: 964<br><br>
TAG: Prism<br><br>
SETTING: Four years ago<br><br>
NOTES: So, yeah, OTP, bitches. <3 <3 <3 </div></div> </div>
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THE SLIP, THAT BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES</div>
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It was just a simple axle job. No big deal. He’d done this a hundred times before! And, with Cain’s promise that he’d be making him a full-fledged Reaver soon, Alec had hardily agreed that he would fix a whole fleet of cars for the man. So far, he’d fixed small stuff – plumbing, generators, the occasional radio – and he sworn he could do more, much more, if given the chance. Alec had seen the way out of slavery and he planned to take it on, full speed. And, thankfully, Cain didn’t seem to mind as long as everything around the Reaver stronghold was in proper working order. If Cain was true to his word and actually made Alec a Reaver, then all Alec’s problems would be solved… mostly. Yes, he still didn’t know where his sister was, and yes, he’d be working for slavers. But, damn, it was better than being a slave himself! Already he was sleeping in the large garage area, on his own little cot, with his own tools. He was only a slave by title nowadays, and that suited him fine, but, being a true Reaver came with perks of its own. He knew that this axle needed to be perfection and he wanted to do it fast, fast enough to impress Cain.
<p>
Well, he’d done it fast alright. Too fast. Oh, the axle was perfect, yes. He knew his craft. But he’d been sloppy with the clean up. He’d done everything right, except check the lifts. If he had checked the lifts, then crawling under the car to grab that screwdriver that had rolled away under it wouldn’t have been a big deal. But he didn’t check the lifts, and that’s why the car had fallen on him, and that’s why he knew that this must be the end. He was dying. He knew he was. Blood had dripped into his eyes and he couldn’t feel anything – not his arms, not his legs, not anything. He was dying, crushed under the car at an awkward angle and no one would care. No one would give one shit about a sort-of-slave dying. So, he didn’t even try to cry out. Alec just closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain with the few minutes he had left on this earth. And, as the blackness crept in on him from all sides, he silently forgave his sister for letting him be taken. He owed her that much, at least, in the end.
<p>
Passed out and bleeding, broken and mangled, Alec hadn’t been hurt very long before someone happened upon him and took him to the Reaver medic – Prism. She was new, like he was, but she was excellent at her job, much like he was. He’d never met her, but he’d heard the other guys talk. She was supposed to be wild-looking, with crazy hair and a crazier personality. He’d wanted to meet her, but hadn’t. And hadn’t expected to, seeing as how he thought he was dead and all. Of course, he wasn’t dead. Almost, but not quite. He didn’t know how long he’d been in the infirmary, but, when he woke up, everything was blurry and distorted. Why was Heaven blurry? He blinked repeatedly, and felt his whole body awaken with one harsh, throbbing ache. He groaned, and even that hurt. His throat was dry and his tongue felt huge in his mouth. He didn’t know where he was, but it sure as hell wasn’t Heaven. It was supposed to be pain free up there, and, really, pain was all he felt at the moment. Even when a pretty blonde girl came up, he couldn’t enjoy it. He tried to tell her how much it hurt, how bad everything ached. But the pain swallowed him up, and her face blurred out, blackness engulfing her and him.
<p>
When he woke again, he still hurt, but the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling let him know that he wasn’t blind, at least. It’s light bore into his eyeballs and he shut them tight, pulling a hand up to shield his face. “Hello?” His voice was weak, barely a dusty whisper. “Is…anyone…? I… water… I need water… Please…” He felt bile rise up in the back of his throat and he turned, coughing it up to his side instead of up into the air and back down on himself. Again, the blonde girl came to his side. “What’s happening? Where am I?” He looked around, not recognizing anything. He searched his brain, trying to remember, but everything was fuzzy and fragmented. He closed his eyes wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He took the little cup of water from her, sputtering when it turned out to be some slimy, sickly sweet medicine and not water. Though, at her nagging, he drank what he could down. Curling his arm around himself, Alec turned over, away from the light, and fell asleep, for once, instead of passing out.
<p>
The next morning, when he awoke, it was to the smell of bacon, which made his stomach cramp so harshly with hunger that he tried to sit up in the bed. The blonde was back, but now he could see and his throat didn’t feel so unused. “Hi,” he said, trying to smile but feeling rusty at everything. He stretched a little, wincing and stopping as he did so. “Oof, bad idea.” Alec pushed himself up in the bed, to a slightly sitting position and looked around. He still didn’t recognize the place, but the girl, she looked a little familiar. Maybe because he’d seen her before, and maybe because… Well, he wasn’t sure. But she seemed nice. And she smelled like bacon. “Can I have some food?” He reached up, pushing his stray blonde locks out of his green eyes and took a deep breath, feeling his ribs scream in protest. "Did I break something," he asked, wrapping an arm around his chest.



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Jul 13 2015, 03:37 PM
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WORD COUNT: 1565<br><br>
TAG: Aster<br><br>
SETTING: Four years ago<br><br>
NOTES: First post, woo!</div></div> </div>
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THE HINT OF THE CENTURY, CONSIDER THIS, THE SLIP, THAT BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES</div>
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The first time hadn’t been so bad. They had thrown a bag over his head and thrown him in the back of a vehicle only to drive a short way before stopping. Then, roughly, they had spent the next ten minutes dragging him up endless flights of stairs in what he could only assume was one of the hotels on the Strip. When the bag was removed, it wasn’t by a Reaver, but by a beautiful woman. She had purple hair and green lipstick; he remembered that clearly because it had taken forever to wash those green smears off of his dick. Not that he had complained, of course. If slavery was just sleeping with beautiful women, then he didn’t mind captivity so much.
<p>
But, of course, that little misconception bubble was burst the second time they’d pulled him from the overcrowded slave quarters . Yes, it was still with a woman, but this time she’d tied him up and beat him with various devices until he could barely move the next day. It had been sexy for all of five minutes, and then, when he hadn’t been able to keep it up from being so turned off by the pain… Well, the lashes on the back of his thighs and ass told the story well enough. Little blue pills were now one way tickets to anxiety island on the panic attack express, and he wasn’t too fond of anyone wearing excessive black leather either.
<p>
Freshly eighteen and not too long after losing his v-card, Alec Thompson was scared to death of the new life he now had as a Reaver slave. Any healthy eighteen year old, red blooded male liked sex. That was a fact a nature. But, this? This wasn’t sex. It was forced. And, until now, he hadn’t known guys could be forced to have sex. Actually, he’d found out that he didn’t know a ton of shit. Oh, sure, he could survive the Mojave just fine and fend for himself pretty well, but here there were new ways to survive. He was no stranger to liars, but these people had taken it to a whole new level. He couldn’t trust anyone or anything. He couldn’t let down his guard for one second, not even when he was sleeping. His green eyes had dark circles underneath them from his lack of rest and his body ached in ways he thought only old people complained about.
<p>
It was hell, and there was no escape.
<p>
Though, he had no idea – that’s what the other slaves said, the ones that would actually talk to him. They said he had it easy so far. Just a week in and he’d seen nothing, they said. It didn’t take long for him to stop asking questions. Alec realized that maybe he didn’t want to know what they meant and, childishly, he hoped that, if he didn’t know, then he wouldn’t have to ever know. Maybe, he’d be spared. Maybe his sister Katie would come find him. Maybe he could escape and find her. Maybe it was all just a bad, bad dream and he would wake up and it would all be okay again. The other slaves assured him that it wouldn’t. He was too young, too pretty, too innocent, too fresh. Honestly, he didn’t really know what they meant by that, and he didn’t want to know. Whenever the Reavers came, he tried to hide in the corner, making himself as little and as unimportant as humanly possible. But, eventually, it wasn’t enough.
<p>
“That one! Get ‘im. Hold him up.”
<p>
Alec’s breath caught in his throat as a large man with a really big knife stalked through the darkened room, over sleeping bodies and passed out bodies and possibly dead bodies, all the way over to his corner. Even in the dark, his mop of messy blonde hair was like a beacon. He cowered back into his corner, hoping the wall would swallow him up. No such luck.
<p>
“This one?” The man reached Alec, snatching him up by his hair, yanking a howl of pain out of his throat.
<p>
“Yup, he’ll do. Come on.”
<p>
The man with the knife dragged Alec along behind him, towards the exit of the slave quarters. He knew not to plead. He’d seen them kick others in the gut for that kind of thing. Maybe they were taking him for a bath. Or to another pretty woman. Or maybe to freedom! Maybe his sister had found him and paid for him and it was all going to be alright!
<p>
Once outside the large room where the slave were kept, the men stopped. The man with the knife tossed Alec at the feet of the other man, a young one with tattoos and a cruel grin. Alec landed on his hands and knees in front of him, vaguely recognizing him as the leader, the one who had let him fix that generator a few days ago. “Yeah, this is the one. Go get him cleaned up. Nexus likes them all squeaky clean. Have fun, kiddo. Aster knows what he’s doing so just follow his lead. You’ll be a natural.” The man slapped his ass before walking off, which shocked Alec so much that he didn’t even have the nerve to respond. Who was Nexus? Who was Aster? Why did that guy hit his ass? Wasn’t he needing him to fix something again?
<p>
Before any questions could be voiced, Alec was snatched up again. A short walk and he was pushed into a large tiled room. “Strip,” he was commanded. And, reluctantly, he did so. Hands over his crotch, he stood there shivering in the tiled room, not really knowing what to expect. A woman came in, cigarette dangling from her lips, and looked him over. She slapped his hands away and looked him over <i>extremely</i> well. Despite himself, he knew he was getting hard. She wasn’t bad looking, but this was no time to be turned on. Something was about to happen to him, and he was worried it wasn’t anything good. “He’s clean enough. Soak him,” she ordered, before walking away. Then, out of nowhere, came the coldest, strongest stream of water he’d ever felt. The temperature took his breath away and the forced knocked him off his feet. Slipping and sliding on the tile, Alec was blasted with water from all angles. It stopped for only a moment, during which a lung-choking cloud of powder was thrown at him, before the water started again.
<p>
The powder turned into suds and he felt the grime wash off of him. That wasn’t so bad, but he was still trying to catch his breath by the time the water was turned off and he was pulled to his feet again. A towel was shoved into his arms and he gladly dried off, shivering even more than before with worry. They hadn’t bathed him before, not like this. What was happening? Where were they taking him? He found out soon enough. After he was dried off, Alec was given an extremely tight fitting pair of briefs to put on – sparkly red briefs that left no room for imagination. He looked dubiously at the Reaver with the big knife, but the man only chuckled darkly. Another bag over the head. Another long drive. Another stumbling trip through somewhere. And then the bag was removed. And then all became quite clear.
<p>
Alec found himself in a plush, ornate, sweet-smelling room. The blood red carpet beneath his bare feet was luxurious. The walls were covered with fancy looking wallpaper and even fancier looking framed paintings. Heavy, red drapery covered the windows, blocking all light. The only light on the room came from inset bulbs illuminating a multi-colored mound of pillows topping a rounded bed in the far corner of the room. On top of the mound of pillows was a person, a man. Actually, a boy, around his age, it seemed. He had on the same briefs as Alec, but, other than that, all Alec noticed was his head full of brown curls because someone speaking drew his attention. In the middle of the room, between the door and the bed, was a large man in a large chair. It had been facing the bed, but now it swiveled to face Alec. “About time,” the man said, his face half-hidden by the dimly lit room.
<p>
“Apologies, Mr. Nexus. Cain sends his regards.” Alec felt the Reaver prod him none too gently in the small of his back as he spoke to the man in the chair. Alec stepped forward, feeling the man’s gaze sweep over him. In the far corner, the boy on the pillows lifted his head to look too. Alec suddenly felt like crawling into a corner. His breath came out shaky and he tried to steady himself. He could guess what this was all about, but his mind was blocking out that possibility as hard as it could. For now, he just felt confused and cornered. The man in the chair grunted his approval, it seemed, for the Reaver gave Alec another shove, instructing him to get on the bed. Staggering forward, Alec slowly skirted the edge of the room, staying as far away from the man in the chair as he could before reaching the bed.


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Jul 11 2015, 11:37 PM
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<center><div class="cooked"><center><div class="black"><a href="url to character bio">CLANK</a></div><br>22, M, CIVILIAN, REAVER, MECHANIC.
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<br><div class="silver">THREADS IN PROGRESS</div>
<br>Consider This | Aster
<br>Shoot to Maim | Reavers

<br><br><div class="silver">COMPLETED THREADS</div>
<br>Quid Pro Quo | Victoria
<br>Ceiling Wax and Kings | Prism
<br> Pina Coladas | Doc


<br><br><div class="silver">INCOMPLETE/DEAD THREADS</div>
<br>Cool Kids | Roach
<br> Cry Havoc | Open
<br>THREAD TITLE | NAME

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Jul 9 2015, 03:27 PM
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I didn’t think she’d actually let me be taken. I knew she wasn’t cut out for this life, but… She just let me go, like it was nothing to her. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was even a relief, fuck if I know. What I <b>do</b> know is that they took me, and Katie? She didn’t do a damn thing to stop it. On one hand, I thought she was taking the smart route – she was outnumbered, they were Reavers – and that she would follow and rescue me. Or at least send some type of help, eventually. On the other hand, my heart screamed <i>“Coward!”</i>. I think about it a lot, nightmares and they type of shit. You’d think the nightmare part of it would be the kidnap part, but, Katie… Katie is the nightmare. Betrayal is a lot worse than slavery. At least, with slavery, you know where you fucking stand.
<p>
But I digress.
<p>
My name is Alec Thompson. I’m twenty-two. My dad’s name was Jonathan. My mum’s name was Alice. They were from England – ya know, where they had royalty and shite way after such things were relevant any fucking more. I’ve been told I talk funny sometimes. I don’t hear it, but others do. I guess it’s an old holdover from having Brits for parents, I dunno. Anyways, I never went to England, for obvious reasons. I was born here, so was my sister. She’s older, but you’d never guess it was that way. But, look, I’m not getting back on that dead horse. Moving on…
<p>
So, the parents, they were good people, as parents go. My dad was in the RAF. That’s Royal Air Force; he fixed planes. You know, the things that flew? In the sky. What. The. Fuck. Amirite? I guess, kinda like the VSF, the RAF must have been a group of hardasses, because that’s how I was raised. Katie? No. She was a girl. She got it easy. I was the little sonofabitch who got left in the woods to find his way home with only a compass and a canteen. Though, it was good, I guess. I learned early, and I learned well, if I do say so myself. Dad, well… He wasn’t so sure. He was hard on me. I appreciate it now, but, back then? Psh, he was a dick.
<p>
But, all that got me where I am now. Okay, so, being a Reaver isn’t exactly what every little boy dreams of becoming. But, I got my own space, regular meals, and a job that I enjoy and that I’m good at. See, dear old Dad taught me his trade – mechanics. If it has an engine, I can fix it. Fuck, even if it doesn’t have an engine, there’s a good chance I can get it going. Not to brag. But, hey, out here? That’s a fucking commodity. It’s not like you can just learn this kind of thing everywhere. And the Reavers, they appreciated that. The talent. That’s the only way I got out of the worst of what they had in store for me.
<p>
You see, after Katie tucked tail and let me get taken, the Reavers carted me off in this old Jeep Wrangler. Classic, by the way. Nearly mint, you hear me? Gorgeous machine. …anyways, what… Um. I lost what I was saying… Oh! Right! Okay, so they got me tied up in the back of this Jeep, bouncing along to God only fucking knows where, right? Here we go, bounce bounce off to my doom. And then, Bang! The Jeep throws a rod. Smoke starts billowing out, the radiator shits itself, and there we all are, stuck on the side of the road in the middle of the fucking Mojave. So, being the resourceful bloke I am, I say that I can fix it. Thrown rod isn’t that hard to finagle, if you know your arse from a hole in the ground. And the Reavers, they hem and haw over it a bit before they gets sick of being cooked in the sun, and finally they let me have a go at it. Hour later and we are back on the road.
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So they take me back to HQ, and through the grapevine, the big boss hears about what happened. Meanwhile, I’m stuck with the slaves. Now, I was only a slave, technically, for a week and a half, but, friend, that was plenty. A generator breaks and the boss sends for me. Me. A slave. So, how can I refuse? I do a bangup job, like I keen to do, and he likes it. So he gives me another job. And ‘nother. And then I get a little cot in the garage. And then I get known. And then I get a nickname. Yeah, it’s Clank. Look, okay, Reavers aren’t known for their creativity, unless it’s in the more sadistic areas of life. So, when something breaks, what noise does it make? Clank. That’s right. Very good. And so, someone some day said something about something being broken and they didn’t know my name. So they just pointed and said, “Clank. It clanked. Hello? Yes, you. Clank!”. And some other geezer heard it and here we fucking are. Four years later and everyone around has no fucking idea what my name is, besides Clank. These guys love it, too. Something breaks, and you got at least ten smart asses yelling “Clank!!!” and laughing like it’s the funniest shit in the world. I dunno. Easily entertained, I suppose.
<p>
So, yeah, my story isn’t all that interesting. Started out as a scav with my family. Mum got sick and died. Dad got killed protecting me and Katie. And then I got taken by Reavers and, slowly, somehow, fucked-up-ed-ly, became the head mechanic. It’s been four years now since I last saw my sis. Do what? Do I miss her? Well… Sometimes. Yeah. Sometimes, I suppose I do. I’ve got a lot to fucking say if I ever do see her again, though. But, a girl like Katie? Nah, mate. She’s gone. Long gone. No way she made it without me. …quite the sobering thought, if I’m honest.
<p>
Ahem. Anywho, I’ve got this carburetor to flush out, so, I’ll see you around, yeah? Drinks on me, then.


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<center><div style="margin-left: 0px;"><table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="1"><tr><td><div class="biotag">CIVILIANS</div></td><td><div class="biotag">REAVER</div></td></tr><tr><td><div class="biotag">MECHANIC</div></td><td><div class="biotag">APRIL 15TH (22)</div></td></tr><tr><td><div class="biotag">HETERO</div></td><td><div class="biotag">ALEX PETTYFER</div></td></tr></table></div></center><br><br><div style="width:352px; height:262px; overflow:auto;"><div style="width:326px; font-size: 10px; text-align:justify; padding-right: 7px;">

So, this is Clank. Here the short version. He was a scavenger until he was 18, when he was abducted by the Reavers, who soon learned that he was good with his hands. <i><b>Ladies…</b></i> He’s now been with them four years and is the lead mechanic fixing whatever they throw at him. He’s loyal to them, seeing as how he’s taken care of and is an equal member of the group. But he doesn’t exactly agree with their lifestyle choices. Not that he’d say that to the leader’s face or anything. He keeps his opinions on slavery to himself. For now. But, eventually, I’d like to take him in the direction of helping lead or orchestrate or aide in a sort of Underground Railroad for slaves, helping them to freedom. He had a taste of what it was like, and sees it every day up close, so he’s got a soft spot for them, even though he is a member of a slaver group. Heh.
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FRIENDS: Clank is a likeable guy. He’d have lots of friends, but being around Reavers all the time, those would be mostly who he would know. However, he does go out scavenging for parts or on errands out to fix things, so he’d know people outside of the group too, more than likely. He’d really befriend any slave willing to trust a Reaver, so there’s that. Clank is generally loyal and funny, tries to keep the peace and make everyone happy. That’s actually not a great thing, because, you can’t make everyone happy. So, some might take his demeanor as flippant, or find him fickle in his standing on things. He keeps his real thoughts close to the vest, knowing he’s living in a pit of vipers. Clank would only have a handful of very, very close friends who would know that, deep down, he’s got rock solid values and would die to uphold them, if it ever came to it. He is stealthy about it, though – example: he can boss the slaves around with the best of them, to keep up appearances, but he’s never overly sadistic like some. It’s a damned fine line to walk, which brings me to….
<p>
ENEMIES: Clank is surely not fooling everyone. There’s quite a few people who can see through the laid-back bullshit, and can pinpoint the gun-toting goody two shoes underneath that Reaver veneer. I expect this to blow up in his face eventually. I need one, if not many, really solid enemies. People who will constantly try to trip Clank up in front of the bosses; someone who can’t stand that some slave is now the damned lead mechanic and no one seems to care. That’s got to get under someone’s skin, surely. Also, people outside of the Reavers would just see one more Reaver, so I’m guessing there’s a lot of people who would gladly walk by him if he were on fire, without giving any thought of pissing on him to put it out. I’d love to have a fellow Reaver as his arch-nemesis, some one who’s seen how chummy he is with the slaves or has seen his kindness towards them or something. Clank is a likeable guy, but I really want someone to just fucking LOATHE him. XD
<p>
LOVERS: Ideally, I’d like Clank to fall for a Reaver slave. Yeah, it’s cliché. I know. Fuck you. It would be cute, okay? Anyways, that’s a pipe dream, but just throwing it out there all the same. Moving on… Let’s be real, people: Clank is a hottie. You’d tap it. I’d tap it. It’s very tappable. Dat. Ass. So, yeah, he’s been with a few girls, some even before he became “Clank”. He’s no Casanova, so there’s not a huge line of women with him notched on their lipstick case, but he’s had his fair share. It would be cool to have an old flame that was pre-Reavers to stumble across sometime. Or something like that. I don’t know that he’s ever been “in love”, however. That one is up for debate. Another angle could be him falling for a Reaver, which would go against his very nature but DAMN…, the drama. Delicious.
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FUTURE PLANS: Like I said, I’m really hoping to do something with him and freeing slaves, like a big movement, but that’s way in the future and I’d have to get it approved and all that. But, yeah, it would be cool. And also, Roach is his sister, and eventually they will reunite. Don’t know how or where or why, but it will be down the road as well. Having someone they both know or something would be interesting, getting that ball rolling. Otherwise, I’m open to suggestion. I love love love plotting and I’ve got AIM and Skype, and there’s always PM. So, let’s do this, people! I give you CLANK, the Reaver mechanic! Do with him as you will!!!


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