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Medallions d20 Modern (Update Wednesday 09-20-06)
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<blockquote data-quote="ledded" data-source="post: 975003" data-attributes="member: 12744"><p><strong>Willie Lamar's history</strong></p><p></p><p>Willie was born Wilson James Lamar in Birmingham on August 8, 1968, the second of 4 children, living in a low income section of Birmingham's West End. His father left right after his youngest brother was born and last he heard he was doing construction work in Seattle, not that Willie cares, leaving his family having to lean heavily on his grandparents and many cousins. His younger brother died in a night of violence when Willie was 17, labelled as "gang related" and given only half-hearted investigation by local authorities. Not long after, his patriarchal grandfather, James, passed away of a heart attack. Willie himself started on a downward spiraling path as his mother, having to work 2 jobs to make ends meet, was unable to spend the time he needed with him. His strong-willed grandmother soon took charge, "convincing" Willie to join the marines so he could stay out of trouble and get an education. Two years later, he found himself lost on the nighttime streets of Basra, separated from his unit. While trying to slip out unnoticed, he came across a column of marines pinned down by assailants using women and children civilians as a human shield to escape return fire. Enraged, Willie uncharacteristically charged into the building and managed to subdue most of the men with a lot of luck, a well-timed grenade, and an angry rifle butt to the head. The tail end of his 'heroics' ("Hey, they were bustin' up the only ride out of town I could find... what was I gonna do? I aint no hero") were conveniently captured on camera by a helicopter responding to the column's call for help. He later received a bronze star for his actions, was honorably discharged at his request, and enjoyed a little press time at home.</p><p></p><p>Back in Birmingham, he renewed his interest in investigating his bother's death, and parlayed his 15 minutes of fame into a job with the Jefferson Country Sheriff's department and a marriage with his wife, Sharon. After being passed over for promotion to detective several times (racially motivated, in Willie's opionion, since he had a great record and did well on exams), Willie responded to an older senior watch commander's negative comments with a righteous right cross. He was given the option to 'quit' with a good record, or be brought up on charges. He chose the former, and after months of joblessness, sunk into a bout of despair and alchoholism which quickly cost him his marriage (she actually had the nerve to tell him he had "anger management issues", which really pissed him off). Again, his Grams came to his aid, forced him to clean up and got him a job with his cousins Bail Bondsman company, taking night classes to </p><p>become a private detective. It's not fun work, especially the bail skips, but it's work.</p><p></p><p>When he met the group, he was working terrible infidelity cases for his cousin, trying to gather evidence with a pocket full of disposable cameras on long nights in the rain since his 35mm had to go to pawn a while back. His '79 Lincoln Continental is in the shop till he has enough money to get it out, and the really bad part of bumming rides is trying to maintain that cool/tough image when his Grams drops him off and fusses over him while making him take a sack lunch. At least he has figured out how to get out of the car quick enough to avoid the motherly kisses, though the woman is positively obsessed with clean socks. He has struck up </p><p>an unlikely friendship with the other group members in lieu of Joe and Taylors occasional off-color remarks ("No, just because I'm *black* doesnt mean I can pick a d*mn lock! You watch too much TV.") and feels close them, even though they share little in common. He has started attending services at Brother Guyzell's, who he respects not only as a man of God but also as a person, which has elated his Grams to no end.</p><p></p><p>Willie is a tall black man with a winning smile, thin for his height, who has found he has a gift for relating to other people... particularly women. With the right word or look, he can go from a smiling confidant to a looming intimidator, and generally believes that the proper amount of smiles or stares can do amazing things, however he always carries his chrome-plated .44 magnum revolver in case the situation warrants a more 'solid' backing up. He does try to not let his temper get the better of him, though he is quick to rant about injustices done to him and other poor people (real or imagnined). He tries to dress well, coming across a bit dated because of his limited financial resources, but he does still tend to do well with the ladies in spite of his monetary woes and his constant mistrust of the "system" that has abused him time and time again. He is a solid investigator, can spot bulls&!* from a blimp in a fogstorm, and has a well-developed and often misplaced sense of justice which occasionally overwhelms his even more useful sense of self-preservation. He also believes that it's always better to be lucky than good, and seems to find a lucky turn just when he needs it (and sometimes the opposite just when he doesnt).</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ledded, post: 975003, member: 12744"] [b]Willie Lamar's history[/b] Willie was born Wilson James Lamar in Birmingham on August 8, 1968, the second of 4 children, living in a low income section of Birmingham's West End. His father left right after his youngest brother was born and last he heard he was doing construction work in Seattle, not that Willie cares, leaving his family having to lean heavily on his grandparents and many cousins. His younger brother died in a night of violence when Willie was 17, labelled as "gang related" and given only half-hearted investigation by local authorities. Not long after, his patriarchal grandfather, James, passed away of a heart attack. Willie himself started on a downward spiraling path as his mother, having to work 2 jobs to make ends meet, was unable to spend the time he needed with him. His strong-willed grandmother soon took charge, "convincing" Willie to join the marines so he could stay out of trouble and get an education. Two years later, he found himself lost on the nighttime streets of Basra, separated from his unit. While trying to slip out unnoticed, he came across a column of marines pinned down by assailants using women and children civilians as a human shield to escape return fire. Enraged, Willie uncharacteristically charged into the building and managed to subdue most of the men with a lot of luck, a well-timed grenade, and an angry rifle butt to the head. The tail end of his 'heroics' ("Hey, they were bustin' up the only ride out of town I could find... what was I gonna do? I aint no hero") were conveniently captured on camera by a helicopter responding to the column's call for help. He later received a bronze star for his actions, was honorably discharged at his request, and enjoyed a little press time at home. Back in Birmingham, he renewed his interest in investigating his bother's death, and parlayed his 15 minutes of fame into a job with the Jefferson Country Sheriff's department and a marriage with his wife, Sharon. After being passed over for promotion to detective several times (racially motivated, in Willie's opionion, since he had a great record and did well on exams), Willie responded to an older senior watch commander's negative comments with a righteous right cross. He was given the option to 'quit' with a good record, or be brought up on charges. He chose the former, and after months of joblessness, sunk into a bout of despair and alchoholism which quickly cost him his marriage (she actually had the nerve to tell him he had "anger management issues", which really pissed him off). Again, his Grams came to his aid, forced him to clean up and got him a job with his cousins Bail Bondsman company, taking night classes to become a private detective. It's not fun work, especially the bail skips, but it's work. When he met the group, he was working terrible infidelity cases for his cousin, trying to gather evidence with a pocket full of disposable cameras on long nights in the rain since his 35mm had to go to pawn a while back. His '79 Lincoln Continental is in the shop till he has enough money to get it out, and the really bad part of bumming rides is trying to maintain that cool/tough image when his Grams drops him off and fusses over him while making him take a sack lunch. At least he has figured out how to get out of the car quick enough to avoid the motherly kisses, though the woman is positively obsessed with clean socks. He has struck up an unlikely friendship with the other group members in lieu of Joe and Taylors occasional off-color remarks ("No, just because I'm *black* doesnt mean I can pick a d*mn lock! You watch too much TV.") and feels close them, even though they share little in common. He has started attending services at Brother Guyzell's, who he respects not only as a man of God but also as a person, which has elated his Grams to no end. Willie is a tall black man with a winning smile, thin for his height, who has found he has a gift for relating to other people... particularly women. With the right word or look, he can go from a smiling confidant to a looming intimidator, and generally believes that the proper amount of smiles or stares can do amazing things, however he always carries his chrome-plated .44 magnum revolver in case the situation warrants a more 'solid' backing up. He does try to not let his temper get the better of him, though he is quick to rant about injustices done to him and other poor people (real or imagnined). He tries to dress well, coming across a bit dated because of his limited financial resources, but he does still tend to do well with the ladies in spite of his monetary woes and his constant mistrust of the "system" that has abused him time and time again. He is a solid investigator, can spot bulls&!* from a blimp in a fogstorm, and has a well-developed and often misplaced sense of justice which occasionally overwhelms his even more useful sense of self-preservation. He also believes that it's always better to be lucky than good, and seems to find a lucky turn just when he needs it (and sometimes the opposite just when he doesnt). [/QUOTE]
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