The date is 2012. Apocalypse theories were right... salvation is no longer an option.
"Everyone said it was a hoax. People claimed it to be a fake, a stunt for attention. A media scare directed for entertainment, or even a new reality show. Boy, were they wrong. Navy, Coast Guard, Army, Marine Corps, police, every damn one of them, had no time. The things just came and went, dragging anyone unfortunate enough to be in their way to perish instantly. There was so many damn creatures you could barely recognize their type. Massive worms. Gunslinging figures standing ten feet tall, firing strange beams. Towering beasts, over a thousand pounds. Their arms were as thick as trees, their bodies as big as cars. Some... some were crawlers. It's forever burnt into my memory... Babies, or something. They just, flung themselves at you. They cried, all they did was cry. They bled, too. Boy did they bleed... Came from their eyes. Just dripped everywhere. Bit you, man... they just, wouldn't let go. They even came as green beasts, checkered with soot and ashes. Creepers is a common term for them, for their eyes. Forever open, gaping black holes. They were territorial, ran at you with their four legs and committed suicide. Blew themselves into pieces. Living grenades. Then there's skeletons. Anyone exposed to the alien's foul taint is destroyed, corrupting and melting their skin. Something brings them to life. They rise, ready to fling themselves at anyone they see. Their brittle bones become hard as metal, their minds set to nothing but death. New York was the first area of contact with the aliens, dropping in several robed humanoids. Within five minutes, Ground Zero had no human life within one hundred meters. Mothership Betha descended, dropping a shadow a mile wide. It's circular base was terribly immense, filled with the required materials to birth it's monstrosities. Ground Zero birthed a new era, a year of destruction. Within seven months the infection had spread to all of North America, South America, and Europe. It halted for nothing. Construction of safe bunkers and containment centers started immediately, the largest of which hidden in Australia. It was dubbed "Serenity". This is where we are now, Serenity. Under watch by the guards, always alert. Resources are scarce, used up by the corrupt overwatch. All we can hope is the aliens don't **** us over at any moment. Three years have passed, and the world is completely in ruins. Apocalypse theories were right, salvation is no longer an option."
Rules of the RP;
Rule 1; Proper spelling and grammar would be a plus, even if you aren't amazing at roleplay.
Rule 2; Reread and double reread the post before you, so you make no mistakes and look silly.
Rule 3; Double posting is frowned upon, and only used if completely needed.
Rule 4; If you're not responded to IC, (in-character) you may either void the speech or, if a moderator approves, talk for them. But only if you use their personality.
Rule 5; If I do not respond to your application, whining to accept you will make me say no. Don't do it.
Rule 6; If you've read these thoroughly, put #!# at the end of your application. Make it visible.
Rule 7; If you say the roleplay isn't related to Minecraft, go take a looksies at the IC introduction in quotes at the top.
Rule 8; If you have several of an item, just say you have some, not you have 10.
Rule 9; Before a post, type <Character's name> as well as <1st Person/3rd Person> to avoid confusion.
Rule 10; Character's names don't have to be regular names, they can be something like Harsse Darken, but don't do something like Amanda Hugnkiss.
Rule 11; Signify in some way it's OOC (out of character) by symbols, such as * or ((
Rule 12; Make sure you do not focus on a combat-based character. If everyone's a fighter and you apply for a fighter, guess who will be denied?
Rule 13; Ask a moderator for a time change or weather change via OOC symbols, but only if needed. You can do whatever you need to through the night. You don't need day to be able to do normal tasks.
Rule 14; No god-modding, and don't even try to control other's characters.
Rule 15; Update your bio after finding or losing an item. Refresh it and keep it updated, so people may inspect what you have.
Serenity, Poor Section.
Map of Comatose's compound.
Major alien races;
Creeper, exploding green penis. Skeletons, the most abundant foe. Diggers, massive worms as thick as a bus. Ambassadors, humanoid figures armed with laser beams. Crawlers, football-sized babies that crawl, biting everyone.
Neilsaur's Aleksendr, insane mathmatician.
Lyoko's Kain, the corrupted scientist.
Feokris's Mira, a tactical sniper.
John, the skilled survivalist and soldier of HugTheZombie's.
Stasik Mihailov; the quiet repairman with an itchy trigger finger, played by Stingray.
TRHeadshot's Ashe, the happy-go-lucky rebel.
Magicmanp's Simon, taker and giver of life.
****ING. I hate copy paste. So, I deleted literally 7-9 paragraphs of writing by copy paste.
Sorry. My character is Ian "Beater" Tru, the leader of Comatose, a rebel organization inside of Serenity. He worked with Bleu Rose, the founders of Serenity, but was fired by them for "getting his squad killed", which he didn't do, they all died on their own terms. He snuck inside Serenity, and is smuggling weapons for his rebellion. He's a badass who doesn't afraid of anything, and he carries his signature Xira 59-5 Assault Rifle. He's prone to emotional breakdowns because of his harsh 3 years battling the aliens, and cries often when he's alone. Sorry for no real description of him, I failed terribly. Trust me on this, it was literally in the making for two hours.
Here's a picture, to show you what he looks like in his full combat uniform.
Personality; Aleksendr is completely, and utterly, insane. When the apocolypse came, he just snapped. He saw it coming for years, when the world finally would end. Usually, he is happy and polite, respecting others decisions, albeit weirdly. When an alien shows up, though, he breaks again and feels an urge to kill any thing that threatens him. On outsider would think he enjoyed killing. Witnessing his daughters death had changed him so much from the humble and quiet mathmatician he used to be.
Skills; Aleksendr is strange - he can use the most bizzare of weapons, but doesn't know how to even aim a gun right. He is skilled in mathmatics, but in the apocolypse, math isn't a savior.
Bio; Aleksendr is a russian civilaian, who moved to the states when they stopped assuming all Russians were communists. Settling in as a basic civilian, he searched for a job. Registering as a college math teacher because of his incredibly high math techniques, he was recognized by the school board, and, eventually, the government. He was hired by NASA, and was working on a new and improved space shuttle when the world ended.
He was driving home from work, sipping a coffee, when he saw the first alien attack. He was surprised, at first. He knew the end was coming, he just wasn't expecting it to be this day exactly. It was a hoax, the Mayan's had simply gotten bored. But no, it was happening now. A woman was shot through the chest with a lazer, and she collapsed quickly. Noticing what was going on, he dove out of his car, and booked it home.
"Daddy! Help!" His daughter shrill scream had filled the air. Yes, he had a seven year old daughter and a lovely American wife named Cathorine. They lived well together, a generic, happy family. But, this wans't so happy.
His daughter was pinned against the wall, by a green thing that seemed to be growing - but it exploded. Screaming in rage, Aleksendr snapped, and dove into his house. He came out with a metal pot on a makeshift helmet, like little kids wear. He had twin butcher knives, and went berserk on the bastards from space. As a last memento, he took his daughters bike, and escaped. He has been living underground for three years, listening to the battle above him, with a large ration of canned beans.
And alien meat.
Somehow, somewhere, he hoped his wife was still alive.
Appearance; Aleksendr has a creepily-grinning face, with scratches and bruises scattered all over it. He wears a white baseball cap over his blonde army-buzzed hair. Aleksendr has bright green eyes. His nose is wide, and his lips are thin. He also seems to have a permanent five-o'clock shadow. He wears casual khaki cargos, and a tight shirt. He wears cleats he found and a sports shop, which are more effective at kicking aliens in the face.
Equipment; Aleksendr carries twin butcher knives, a rusty steel pot, and his dead daughters pink bicycle, which he slings across his back.
You didn't read the rules. But because you're a good guy, and you're an even better roleplayer, you're in. Lemme add you to the post. Oh, and you'll have to be abducted by the roving caravans of collectors, therefore dumping you into Serenity, if you want to roleplay this week. We'll escape soon, but we all need to start inside.
Hah, I can't tell you how many times I've done the same and had to edit it in really quick. I'm kind of stealing Lyoko's idea, but... his is different, I think? He PM'd me for a banner request, but hasn't started the roleplay yet. So... I dunno. I hope I'm not stealing his idea. D:
Nah, man. I was going for hundreds of years in the future. It's cool.
Name; Kain Searinton
Personality; Withdrawn and dark, seemingly evil from a glance.
Skills; From his partial corruption, he is stronger and more durable than other humans, but is also rather unstable from it as well.
Bio; Born in the city, he grew as a simple man, working his way through school and college, receiving a degree and continuing on as a scientist. Through the years, he helped to invented several objects, developed more advanced guns and armor for military, even the tech for completely undetectable aircraft and submarines. After a few years of this, he fell back on a nice time to himself, conducting personal experiments with cross breeding insects. When the alien creatures arrived, he was trying to combine the DNA of a ladybug and a bee, when he saw the events on TV, it was almost a heaven for him. Such advanced beings, with such devotion and power. But then...they started to spread, like a plague, contaminating every thing. At one point they captured a military base, infecting everything, turning bombs into biological weapons. They unleashed the warheads on different cities, caching millions unaware. Kain was one of them. He was experimenting with contained pieces of the creatures' DNA, when the bombs hit. Kain was unconscious in seconds, and found himself shifting in and out of consciousness for days, and awoke one day to find himself running down an ally. Stopping, he sunk to his knees, knowing what was happening almost immediatly. Staring down at himself, he saw the corruption manifest in his body, he felt it, heard it, driving him to the brink of insanity. He stumbled across the city, half conscious, finding himself at a small lab. Ever since, he has sat in that lab, sealed off, experimenting, looking for a cure, a way to end this. For good.
Appearance; Corruption of the alien creatures shows in several parts of his body, wears a torn lab coat, worn bullet proof vest, tired worn face, leather gloves
Equipment; Bullet proof vest, biologically corrupted giving him above human strength, pistol modified with alien metals
No need for the OOC yet. Haven't started RP. But, are they outside of the town? I kind of wanted everyone to be inside already, taken by the caravans that round people up. But, if you want you two can start outside. I'll get some roleplay as Overwatch, I suppose. You want to be in, or out?
And yeah, Lyoko. Hah. I copy paste them and edit them accordingly to the roleplay.
Chances are Comatose knows where you are and has tabs on you, we're a major force in the Poor section. We've got over four hundred operatives, I suppose. And advanced weaponry, seeing as we smuggle it in. Oh, reminds me I need to go edit the main post with an image of what the Poor and Rich sections look like. Double oh! We can enlist you as a weapons scientist, as well as a frontliner.
It would be a lot easier, actually. Sorry, I just don't feel like rushing an Overwatch squad to your position so that they can wheel you in, when you can already be inside. STARTING NOW, DAMNEEEET.
Ian pushed the man to the side, drawing his assault rifle. It always remained armed and loaded, safety forever off. Two bullet casings fell to the ground with the running man, as Beater walked to his corpse. Ian's best were behind him, two operatives that have been with him for over six months. They were too slow, as Ian had already dropped the man and jogged to his bleeding corpse. He crawled, crimson spray gushing from his chest. The man was Kiri Astro, an infamous drug dealer that was interfering with Comatose's operations. With his drug ring exposed and then crushed, it would effectively render their missions of smuggling supplies in a lot easier without druggies stealing from them. Reaching down, he took the man's ID tag, as well as the key in his pocket. It was to Warehouse 22, his stash. Inside was over three hundred pounds of various narcotics. His two allies assumed control, throwing their guns behind them, carefully strapped on by a thick leather hide. In an instant, the body was tossed into a garbage bin. As it was in a very unknown alley, they simply struck a match and flung it inside, instantly burning through his body. They rushed through the streets, back to rendezvous at their compound. On their way, the stopped. They were beside a well-known scientist of sorts, who was a bit insane. They decided to pay him a visit, see if they could "convince" him to join them. They knocked on his door, people rushing by on their daily commute to wherever.
((Hmmm, now I need to think about how he'll cope.))
"Ah, a knock on the door. Is it a pwetty alien? I hope so. I'm itching for a nice little stabbying." He skipped up and open the door. "Ah, hello soldiers. How may I be of assistance? The water is boiling, so if you would like to make a coffee..." He said with an awkward bow, gesturing over to a counter that had nothing on it. He walked over to a couch, and took a seat.
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** I think that was supposed to be towards Lyoko. But whatever, it's totally chill. We can get him next. *
Beater walked in, his pistol's sheath unlatched in case of an emergency. "Hello, Mister Aleksendr. We're here to discuss some... business." He sat down, lounging. His two lackeys sat down as well, at the wave of a hand. "We've heard you're... different. Capable of bringing down the biggest of our... visitors from another world. We've also heard you're a bit different. I hope you take no offense, but the word is you're amazingly insane. We like that. We want you, to help us in our quest to break free from the oppression of the Overwatch. And from the everlasting terror of the aliens. We offer the best weapons possible, medical treatment from the most capable of doctors, and an extensive training program for... anyone who needs it. I don't suppose you would, though." He raised an eyebrow, smiling. In his casual clothes he looked almost normal, except for the assault rifle on his back and the massive desert eagle in his sheath.
((Well, mathmatician is a form of scientist, and we are both insane, so it's a simple mistake to go by.))
"Stabbing aliens? My favorite kind of action." He laughed, grinning in an odd way. Walking over to a shelf, he opened a door. It was completely empty, aside from two twin butcher knives stuck to the door of it. Snatching them out, and twirling them, he walked back.
"Yes, you are right. I am completely and utterly insane. I have no straight mind. But, let me ask you this. Name one successful great mind in history that was normal. Take your time now, I'll be waiting."
He shrugged. He was interested in this offer.
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"Hah. I knew you'd be saying that, mate. There's not one I can think of. But, if you're to be enlisted, you can't be running around with knives. You've got to carry a real weapon, a gun. I don't care how good you are, knives can't penetrate the Overwatch's armored padding, nor can it properly kill any alien as swift as we need to. Months of practice has showed me that." Replacing his position, his gun was scratching into his back. Picking the pistol from his sheath, he offered it to the man. "For now, you can have my Xira pistol, if you want. Every time we move through the streets, there's a chance Overwatch is on patrol." His two allies had not spoken a word, and barely moved. It was almost unnatural.