RPER INFO:

Canon or Original: Canon

Name: Will
Contact: wilphus@yahoo.com
How did you find us: Well, old site that I used to play at had a link to another X-men RPG site, but that one is on maintenance but it still had their affiliation buttons showing, and this was probably the best board in terms of activity of those advertised
Other characters on this site:
Major Characters

• Cloudburst
• Mesmero
• Sneak
• Beast

Minor Characters

• Ursa Major

Rules code: (by putting the code into this bio, you agree to follow and obey the rules of the site. You also agree to address any concerns the admins PM to you, should they request you fix something to follow the rules)

Give Credit Where Due: Wikipedia for help with name, powers, geography, army and naval destroyers. Surprisingly enough, I knew the trucking stuff.

CHARACTER


Mark Boone Jr.
Affiliation: Brotherhood

Name: Buford Tecumseh Hollis

Codename: Razorback

Nicknames: Big Pig

Place of birth: Born in Fort Smith, Arkansas, raised in Clarksville, Arkansas.

Age: 47

Time at the Institute: N/A

Marital Status: Single

Known Relatives: William “Bud” Hollis (Father), Sharon Hollis (Mother), Jackson Griffith (Maternal Grandfather), Melanie Hollis (Sister)

Base of Operations: Murderworld, Coney Island, New York/ The Big Pig, a customized 16 wheeler.

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Physical Appearance: Buford Hollis is a large man. He stands at 6 feet, 8 inches, and weighs in at a little more than 400 pounds. He resembles more an Olympic weightlifter, not a professional bodybuilder, which between the two; there is a quite marked difference. He also has a slight pot belly, because while he tries to eat healthy, he is, or rather, was a professional semi driver, and it’s hard to eat right on the highway.

Out of habit of being on the road so long, he doesn’t get his hair trimmed on normal intervals, and it usually is quite long. Like most truckers, he usually doesn’t take the time to run a comb through his hair. It naturally gets wavy and frizzled as shown above. He doesn’t shave, but he will take the time to trim his beard to keep it from getting to ZZ Top proportions.

Distinguishing Marks: Chipped canine tooth, with gold crown.
Clothing style: He’s usually wearing Levi’s and a cotton button-up work shirt. Sometimes, he’ll don a leather jacket, if the weather calls for. He’s not going to wear shorts or tight clothing. If the occasion isn’t too fancy, he’ll wear his University of Arkansas Razorbacks trucker hat with pride.

Uniform: Buford used to have a uniform, way back when, with a pig’s head and everything, based on his old high school mascot, but it was really just an storage unit for his self-designed electric shock weapon. Now that he has miniaturized the device, he’ll stick to his street clothes. His trucker hat has his miniaturized electric shock weapon stationed in it.

Powers: Mechanical Hyper-Competence. Buford has an innate intuitive understanding of all machinery. This allows him to expertly pilot any mechanical mode of transportation. He could fly a F-22, for example, better than any trained pilot from the first nano-second he saw one. His power also allows him to pull stunts while driving, piloting, etc, that would spoke any other motorist or pilot. For example, while off-roading in Montana, he came across a boulder, instead of driving around it, he was able to get his car in the air, and flip it over the boulder and land safely on the other side.

His powers, along with his natural intelligence, allows him to be a master mechanic and repairman. He can fix just about anything mechanical in nature. His powers also have helped him design and implement improvements on the original designs of machines. For example, his customized Semi Truck, The Big Pig, currently gets 78 miles per gallon.

It should also be mentioned that his powers allow him to hotwire just about anything, including, on one occasion, an experimental DD-X Zumwalt-class Naval Destroyer.

Weakness: While his powers allow him to expertly use computers, and fix their hardware, he has problems when trying to code, and using the internet. By problems, it is meant, that he’ll develop a headache, and if he continuously uses the internet for a period of more than an hour or so, he’ll black out.

His powers seem to be nullified if he has ingested large amounts of alcohol. Basically, he can’t drink and drive. However, since he’s never tried to fix anything while drunk, it is unknown whether his powers are actually affected or if his body’s innate ability to drive is simply hampered by his drunkenness.

Personality: Buford’s a redneck. He don’t see no shame in being a redneck. He don’t see the shame in living off the work of his hands. He ain’t a racist, ‘cause it takes a pretty big cognitive dissonance to be pro-mutant and anti-black. Because of his stint in the Army, Buford’s willing to follow orders. He’s got a pragmatic streak, willing to break rules to serve the greater good. Unlike some of his Brotherhood brethren, he doesn’t take any special pleasure from killing, unless the one getting killed was a particularly pitiful piece of crap, like a serial rapist, or repeated mutant-killer.

He’s always been gregarious, ever since his high school days. Despite being a member of mutant terrorist cell, he’s more than willing to have a beer and a chat with anyone. His manners aren’t going to impress the Queen of England or anything. In fact, he’s rough around the edges. He’s personable, but he does have a tendency to be a jackass, y’know, take a joke too far, move outside a person’s comfort zone.

History: Buford was born in small town, population about seventy five hundred, in Arkansas in 1961. He was the Hollis’ first child, and it was not an easy birth. The town doctor didn’t think that the facilities in Clarksville were adequate for the birth. So, Sharon’s pa, Jackson Griffith, who at one time had a car dealership, spent the last bit of money he had to get his daughter into a hospital in Fort Smith, two counties over.

His father was a mill worker. After Buford was born, he got promoted to a supervisor position. The increased salary helped, since two years later, Sharon was pregnant again, and, again it was difficult pregnancy. Due to complications of this second birth, Sharon developed chronic pain problems. Buford was aware of his mama’s suffering, and tried to do his best to please his mama. He was a popular kid in town, and was a good student. In high school, he was a wide receiver in the fall, a wrestler in the winter, and he would be in the school play in the spring. In his own words, “Is it my fault that I got a natural baritone singin’ voice? My mama always liked ta hear me sing. Plus, it helped me tag a few artsy chicks, too.”

When he was 13, right around the time boys in small towns learn how to drive, his grandfather showed him the last remnant of wealth that he possessed. A 1950 Cadillac series 61 Sedan. When his grandfather handed him the keys for their first lesson, Buford put the sucker into drive, and never looked back. His granddaddy was amazed at the kid. The boy, unlike some other boys his age, never was particularly interested in cars. But, it seemed that Buford knew more about driving than his granddaddy. Jackson Griffith told his daughter that Buford didn’t need any more lessons.

After graduating High School, Buford was disappointed that there wasn’t money or scholarship for him to go to college. About two months after graduation, he and a couple of buddies were in Fayetteville, ostensibly to see a concert. In actuality, they were planning to drive into Kansas, where they could legally purchase some beer. While in Fayetteville, they were approached by a military recruiter. Buford took a pamphlet and talked it over with his parents. He entered the Army, and was stationed Fort McPherson in Georgia.
One day, walking by a tank, Buford correctly diagnosed a problem in one of its motors, and after explaining it to his C.O, fixed it.

After a single four year tour in the Army, Buford, who had slowly but surely had realized his powers, left the army. He designed for his own personal use an electronic shock generator, an early generation TASER is you would. Needing a job, he used his savings and took out a loan to buy a Peterbilt truck, and become an Owner-Operator truck driver. His Tractor was painted and christened “Big Pig” and his CB handle became Razorback.

He spent the next ten years, making his way in the world as a cross-country O-O truck driver. Trucking doesn’t really have a career path. There isn’t a superior position available, and there ain’t a gold watch at the end. It’s a nomadic lifestyle, and Buford didn’t keep a permanent address, he slept out of his truck. He kept a P.O Box in Little Rock.

When he was 35 years old, when he was checking his mail in Little Rock, he got a letter, telling him to come home, family emergency. He got home to his momma in tears. As it turned out, his sister Melanie had moved to New York City about a year before, to try to become an author. (To give Buford credit, he did vaguely remember hearing this.) The family had received regular letters from Melanie. The letters mentioned several times a Mr. Donald Hopper, who it seemed to have become a mentor of Melanie. The Hollises became concerned when they had read a TIME article about Mr. Hopper and his controversial spiritual teachings. They begged their son to go to New York and “rescue” her from Hopper’s cult.

While in New York, Buford was contacted by a professor, Charles Xavier, who told him the secret behind Buford mechanical skill and genius. Buford told Xavier to shove it, he was here to save his sister’s soul, and then get back to work. Xavier helped Buford by helping him locate the secretive cult’s hiding place, but after Buford took his sister home, he swore he’d have nothing to do with that crippled crackpot.

Two years ago, he decided that being an Owner-Operator was for the birds. He wanted some benefits, and some stability. He applied with a couple companies. When he applied at Schneider National, he ran into an old army buddy, his C.O, Chuck Schneider. Chuck gave the solider thing a couple turns, including a stint in the Pentagon, as an aide to a General. But, Chuck went back to his family’s company, help run things. Buford was pleased as pie. Chuck may not have been the person directly in charge of hiring new drivers, but Chuck was the guy who could fire that guy. Being buddies with Chuck seemed to be a good position to have.

But when Chuck was in the army, he had to help prep a document concerning the Mutant population and its benefits to the military. He had come across a list of mutants who had experience in military matters. Chuck was shocked to see that Buford was on that list. As it happened, after SFC Schneider had reported the incident with the tank to his superior, Major Briggs, Briggs had taken a hair from PFC Hollis’ bed and had it tested. Hollis was X-Gene positive.

Schneider wasn’t willing to hire a mutant, and he made sure word got out to other major trucking companies that Hollis was a mutant. He did leave out that Hollis’ abilities were uniquely suited to being a trucker. Hollis couldn’t get a job. More than a little bitter, he decided that the time for cooperation between man and mutant was over. He decided he needed to get on the radical side of the mutant equation, and as a result, he took to trying to get the Brotherhood’s attention.

He snuck himself onto a shipyard in Mississippi. This particular shipyard was working on a DD-X Zumwalt Class Destroyer. He activated the experimental ship, and took her out to sea, and sunk her. The cost of that ship was 2.4 billion dollars. The Navy has no evidence linking Hollis to the destruction of the ship. The public story was that the ship had suffered damages under Hurricane Katrina which were just now being assessed, and it had to be destroyed.

Hollis was contacted by a Brotherhood member, and upon proof of his deed, he was inducted into the Brotherhood.

SAMPLE RP POST:

Three Way, Tennessee, despite its name, has always been a dreary and dull sort of town, and the Tyler’s Bar and Grill was a dreary sort of bar. The owner was only 30 something, but any dreams this guy had were definitely monochrome. The night was still relatively young, only 11:30, but it was a Thursday, and for most people, it just ain’t proper to drink on a Thursday. The only patrons were four young guys, who had a table to themselves in the corner. Tyler had sent home Betty. Owners have a 6th sense about cold nights, and tonight was going to be one of them. Tyler didn’t want to pay Betty any over time if there weren’t gonna be customers.

The doors to Tyler flew open, and in walked a man of a stature usually unseen in Three Way. 6’8 and just a hell of lot of weight behind it. Booming voice, too.

“Hey, everybody, round on me!” The man declared. He stumbled a little bit, when he saw the slim pickings of the bar. “Well, we may need to make that two rounds.” He slid up to the table of guys. “Y’all mind if I set myself here? I’ve had a good day, and I always believe in celebrating the small victories of life.”

The young men all murmured their assent. They were good ol’ boys and didn’t want to seem impolite.

“Say, all y’all ain’t around here,” The big man said, “’Course, I can’t complain, I only came down here from Humboldt, cause I heard this place grills a mean steak, and I want to get crazy drunk without a chance of running into someone I know. Name’s Buford.”

“I’m Hollister. We’re all from Memphis, and decided we wanted a drive out to the country,” a boy with blond hair mumbled.

“Nice ta meet ya, Hollister. So, let me tell ya ‘bout my day. I’m a night janitor, though I got tonight off. Anyways, This morning I come home to my apartment, and I see that my landlady finally fixed the bathroom drain. Now I tell you, I must have the laziest landlady in all of Madison County, because I’ve riding her ass for damn near two weeks. ‘Course, I always feel bad going to complain to her, ‘cause she’s always playing with her two year old kid, and the kid is always looking so sad when mommy leaves. Any o’ y’all fathers?”

Hollister grins kind of nervously and laughs. “No, sir. We’re all a little too young to be having kids.”

The jolly big man laughs back, and his laughs cause the chair to creak, “Young? Boy, I can’t tell you how many of my high school class was pregnant by graduation.” He leans his chair back, and slips Tyler a fifty. “It ain’t too late to get a well-done T-Bone, is it? I’m starvin’.”

He turns back to his reluctant crowd, “Now, as for me, I ain’t a father… I think.” A couple of his young charges smile, and sip their free beer. “Back in my truck-driving days, I was in Atlanta for a little while, and decided I need to take a week off. One night I was in a bar like this, when I gets to flirting with a real pretty waitress. She tells me this was just a way to play for veterinary school. This was back when I was younger; I was a real looker back then. Anyways she takes me back to her place, and I don’t need to say more ‘bout that.” He winks at his audience and takes a sip of his beer.

“Anyways, about six months past, and I find myself back in Atlanta, so I look her up. Turns out she was pregnant. Now I was wearing protection, but those things fail. Anyways, she tells me its not mine. Now I ain’t no doctor, so I don’t know if she was six months pregnant, but she look real pregnant to me. So maybe I am a daddy or maybe I ain’t. God, I hope I ain’t.”

He looks at his compatriots and takes a chug of beer, “Aw, listen to me ramble. Listen, I’m real glad ta hear that y’all ain’t daddies, ‘cause that is one of the few things I don’t know ‘boutchu guys.”

He points one massive finger at the mousy fellow in the pink collared shirt, “For example, I know Colin here ain’t 21 for another two weeks.” He points at man with the shaved head, glasses and a goatee, “Billy here is a former Marine and a diabetic. Hollister been arrested twice for pot, and Jack has spent 700 dollars on the internet for literature from National Socialist Party of America.”

His voice drops all pretense of jolliness, “See, I know that y’all are 20-something neo-Nazis, and I know you killed that mutant girl back in Nashville. Now I was here to give you an offer. You surrender peacefully, and me and my associates don’t kill, we just break your bones, torture you a little, and let Smokey and the Bear do their jobs. But I can’t get that picture out of my mind. How you stuffed her mouth with the wings you tore off her back. About the messages you smeared on her with her own blood, and the fact that one actually took a goddamn shit on her face. Suddenly, I’m feeling my mercy leaving me. Now, my associate is 700 pound killer mutant, with metal claws and super strength. He suspects to hear from me in about 10 seconds or he’s gonna rip up the place. I know at least three of you are packing heat, but let me tell ya, that’s only gonna make him mad.”

“Now, as soon as you walk five feet away from this fine establishment, my associate is going to rip off your heads, and make it so no one can find your bodies. Y’all have handguns, so you might want so yourself some trouble and some pain and turn them on yourselves.”

Tyler arrives with the steak. “Say there, Chief,” Buford says, his jolly voice returning, “That looks real nice, but I think I’m gonna eat it at the bar.”

The four shocked neo-Nazis get up and start un-holstering their weapons, and walk outside. Tyler thought he heard something growl, like a cougar, but bigger. And he was almost certain he heard screams. But he shook it off. Nothing that interesting happens in Three Way.