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Post by kehaul on Jan 26, 2008 15:00:24 GMT -6
Area DescriptionDirty, crowded streets, filled with the homes, and families of those just trying to make a life for themselves; embroiled in the middle of a war they never asked for, and even fewer wanted. Neo Arcadia continues its stranglehold upon the surface. Those that stand against them, condemned to the shadows of the cities underbelly. The trams, trains, and subways that once served the cities transportation needs; outlawed, banned, electrically shut down, and then militarily confiscated. Yet those very sewers still served a purpose, now home to a clandestine group that would fight against the oppression and utilitarian government that plunged them into this sad, sorry state. Will they one day break out of the darkness, and bathe within the light of a shining new world? MiscellaneousChronologically, this would occur in various stages of "after" the Desert mission is over. However, it is also equipped with Time Paradox crumpling zones, and plot-hole putty; immune to nasty lingering effects up to and including past character death. Subsequently, it exists in free-form, and does not require staff involvement: - Any character that has a valid reason to be here, is welcome to be here.
- Any person that has a plot arc they want to run, is free to run it.
- Need an NPC? Need some NA troops? Take an NPC. Make some NA troops.
- In regards to three, respect the owners of those characters, no posting for Copy X and the sort.
Ramstein Resistance Trilateral: Civilian Division: Trina, the alluring succubus with a heart of gold and a +1 tail of sexy. (No really, it adds +1 charisma) Heavy Hitter Division: Macbeth, former powerhouse of the once proud German military. Brilliant tactician and leader. Rag-Tag Militia: Drum, a relic of past wars, leading the very same.
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Mordred
Full Member
...I can ride my bike with no handlebars~
Trotskyite
Posts: 131
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Post by Mordred on Jan 27, 2008 2:16:25 GMT -6
In a scrap heap in one of the sketchy parts of town - or, wait, was it an upscale group of town homes in a gentrified neighborhood? No one knows anymore, and it doesn't matter anyway - a pile of ashes and iron oxide began to move. At first it merely vibrated, then began to shake, and soon clouds of grey and orange-red powder began to billow from the center, which was revealed through process of elimination to be a nine-appendaged being of a little less than human size, presumably an anthropomorphic Reploid or some breed or other.
The Reploid, having shaken the last of the dust and grime off itself, reared up on four of its legs, revealing that its rust-and-ash camouflage was more effective than any disguise ever attempted by a human; its metal skin, either through design or accident, was patterned and colored in such a way as to perfectly resemble an old junked husk of machinery. Of course, such an appearance could have more of necessity than intention in it, but it served its purpose nonetheless.
A swift whistle and crack sounded through the still air of the ghetto as the Reploid's tail clove the air, and the last particles of debris fell from the articulated joints of the powerful limb. Without further explanation, the Reploid nodded and turned around, leaping onto a nearby wall and scuttling away into the eternal gloom of the impoverished city...
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Giltia RYS
Full Member
Tatsumaki Senpuu Kyaku!
Posts: 152
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Post by Giltia RYS on Jan 27, 2008 15:38:15 GMT -6
In the darkness, a single rat scurried, unbeknownst to the world above. Beneath the surface, a city of rats lay hidden. Scavengers. Vermin. Disgusting pests to be exterminated. So long as Neo Arcadia ruled, that was the law. Rats should not exist. Ugly, filthy creatures that ate garbage and spread disease.
The rat stopped, sitting back on its hind legs. Its ears turning, searching. Its nose sniffed the air. Rats were clever. Scavengers, they lived on what they could. A creature determined to survive.
The low hum of an engine drew closer. The rat scurried into a hole in the wall as a ride chaser blasted through the sewers. A black and white machine, long and sleek. A short reploid in white armor clung to the bike. Waves of sewer water splashed up on either side of the chaser, not touching its gleaming white rider.
“Going a little fast, Cavalry?”
A woman’s voice echoed from a speaker on the bike. Cavalry’s eyes glanced at it for only a second before focusing ahead again.
“Rammstein is under Neo Arcadian control. The sewer system is huge and complex, so they don’t have the troops to patrol it as well as the surface. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone down here. There may still be Joes down here.”
“Suit yourself. Just don’t hit anything.”
“I never do” was all Cavalry said in reply.
Within twelve minutes, Cavalry found himself in a familiar tunnel. Blasting down that last stretch, he came to the entrance of the Rammstein Resistance base. Slowing the chaser to a halt, he opened a comm channel. “Rammstein Resistance, this is Cavalry. Sitting outside the sewer entrance of the hangar right now.”
“Scan complete, confirmed. Welcome home Cavalry.”
A section of wall that appeared to be a part of the sewer slowly opened. The Resistance hangar was much better equipped than one might expect for an underground militia, but Drum and Macbeth were quite good at their jobs. The Resistance always had enough supplies.
Cavalry rode up the ramp, into the hangar, riding over to a section dedicated to Ride Chasers. Hopping off the vehicle, he found himself standing face to… well, abdomen. Face to abdomen with Trina. Cavalry gave a quick salute before removing his helmet.
“And what exactly have I done to earn the honour of being greeted at the door by Trina?”
Trina put a hand on her hip and gave Cavalry a bemused sort of grin. “Molly asked me to bring you to her. Told me you wouldn’t have gone unless a superior officer dragged you there.”
Cavalry sighed. Molly was his dearest friend, and she knew him well. His first priority upon returning was to find Drum and ask about the current status of the base. Molly couldn’t have stopped him even if she had climbed up onto his back.
Though Molly worked in the resistance, cleaning and what not, she had been considered part of the civilian division. It seemed she had gained a powerful friend since her transfer.
Cavalry stared up at Trina for a minute, sizing her up. “That would be an order I presume?”
Trina patted him on the head. “Yes, an order. Now be a good little reploid and go see Molly. She’s been worried sick about you.”
Cavalry saluted Trina and made for the door. An order was an order…
A small voice sounded in his head. The same female voice that had come from his chaser earlier. “So, just like that, you’re going to follow the orders of the head honcho from the civilian division? You’re not a civilian!”
“A superior officer is a superior officer. Division doesn’t mean a thing.”
The voice laughed. “You’re just whipped, aren’t you? She was very pretty, and you’re still a man, subservient as you may be. You’ve got the hots for her, dontcha?”
Cavalry rolled his eyes. “Sable, I have more important things on my mind right now. I’m going to cut you off if you keep babbling.”
“You’re dodging the question! You do like her, don’t you!”
And with that last sentence, her voice cut out. Cavalry had quickly found that speaking to women was more trouble than it was worth. Since she had joined him, every conversation with Sable had been an obstacle course of explanations and dead ends. For whatever reason, she looked for deeper meaning in everything he said, whether that was the case or not.
He’d admit, Trina was attractive, but she was also his superior. And even if she wasn’t, Cavalry just wasn’t interested. Although this mindset may have had something to do with the fact that every woman he knew was taller than him…
Coming to the civilian quarters, Cavalry took a deep breath and steeled himself. Pressing a button, the door shot open. Hellish spawn erupted from the doorway and…
“CAV CAV!”
A girl dressed in a maid uniform slammed into cavalry. This is what he had been expecting. His legs braced and took the brunt of the tackle, but his light body still slid a foot. The girl had already clamped her arms around his head. Cavalry reciprocated the hug.
The girl who now clung to Cavalry was short. Not quite as short as Cavalry, but still small by all the usual standards. It sounded like she was crying.
“I missed you so much” she said, as she crushed him even tighter in her deathgrip. Well, as tight as she could. She had not been built with strength in mind and was quite weak. But something led Cavalry to believe that even if he tried, he wouldn’t have been able to squirm out of her clutches.
Cavalry smiled. He had spent the last few months out of contact with anyone, chasing down Blight. He had nearly died doing so. What would have happened then? If he had died, how would Molly have taken it?
Molly finally released Cavalry and stepped back. Standing straight and placing her hands on her hips, she glared down at Cavalry through eyes soaked in synthetic tears. Short as she was herself, she liked reminding Cavalry that he was still shorter. Seemed to be some sort of declaration of dominance.
“I heard what happened in Mexico! What were you thinking, getting yourself beaten up like that? You worried your big sister, you idiot! When I tell you to be careful, you’re supposed to listen to me! What woul…”
She stopped her rant prematurely, and stared at Cavalry, as if seeing him for the first time.
“WAH! YOU GOT A MAKEOVER!”
Suddenly, she was on top of him again, grabbing and touching and prodding him all over.
“You have two hands now! I’d always wondered how you could stand up straight with that big cannon. And these shoulders, so macho! Maybe we’ll be able to find you a girlfriend. Now that I’m here, you won’t be able to weasel your way out of it. We’re going to find you a girl. You’re too stingy anyways. A good woman will do you some good. And your hair! You look so cute with it cut short like that!”
This went on for about ten minutes. Ten minutes of smiling and laughing between two good friends. But when the world around you is at war, it always finds some way to squeeze its way into even happy reunions.
Cavalry hopped off a chair he had been sitting in. His feet didn’t quite reach the ground. “I should get going now. I still need to check in with Drum, and then I want to hit training room.”
Molly stared at him, disappointed. “You can’t stay longer? Fine. But I’m not working right now, so I’ll come see you at training, and we can go to the mess hall for dinner together.”
Cavalry nodded and headed out the door. Heading towards Drums office. A smile spread across his face. _____
“He cut me off! That asshole shut me out! Who the hell does he think he is? I swear, next time I see him, he’s gonna get such a tongue-lashing that it’ll leave bruises!”
The hangar was usually noisy, but the angry shouting of a certain ride chaser cut above the rest.
One garage technician headed over to the offending machine, to see if he could shut it off somehow. “Must be a power switch or something…”
“Hands off the merchandise, pal!”
The image of a tall woman with short, dark hair materialised above a small projector on the bike. Her arms folded across her chest as she glared at the grease-monkey.
“You get a speck of dirt on the pant and I’ll run you over!”
The technician stared at the hologram for a moment, then at the machine. “Whatever.” Apparently deciding against getting hit by a high speed vehicle, the man walked away. Shrugging his shoulders when his coworkers looked at him.
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Post by kehaul on Jan 27, 2008 23:06:23 GMT -6
The city fringes, one of the last vestiges of normality that remained above the hose sprayed streets of the city. It was dirty, it was dingy, it was more than a little smelly, but it was their dirt, and their smells... and that was really all they had left to call their own.
Off to the farer edge, of the edgier part, of the edge of the city, a quaint fruit stand stood. It was one of the few businesses that thrived outdoors, or perhaps more correctly; one of the few that had no alternative but to brave the streets. They had orange balls, smaller red-purple balls, yellow balls, huge green balls, and plenty of crisp, delicious, and most of all yummytm apples.
One particularly yummytm apple especially, seemed to move at the behest of an invisible hand, slowly being drawn beneath the surface of the apples. The owner, notable for both her girth and an apron that covered the very same girth, seemed to take notice, and softly greeted the apple. She spoke in clear German; one of many bilinguals that still held firm to their heritage. "Hello, little one."
"Hello Miss Emma!" The apple spoke so endearingly to the shop-owner. "O" she responded, exclaiming so strongly, it was as if she could just hug and squeeze and love the apple to death with words alone. "Who's always wrong, but ever cute?"
"Me!" Exclaimed the apple nonchalantly. A petty thief, but being cute and small had its perks. "Mommie, that lady is talking to her fruit", a smallish voice spoke out as a child tugged softly at a nearby woman's sleeve. So flat a response she gave, her attention elsewhere. "Hush now dear, it's not nice to point."
"The patrols ah getting closer each day now dear, go on now, hurry along." She spoke, easily plucking up the sixteen pound apple in her hand. A small hole at the bottom indicated the core had been removed, and she could easily guess who was inside. She hastily tossed the "rotten" apple towards a nearby drain, returning to business as usual.
The boy, now viewing the apple as it hovered an inch from the ground, tugged ever more abundantly at the woman's sleeve. "Mommmieeee, that fruit is moving by itself!"
"Calm down, you're imagining things, see?" Following the finger, she observed the apple, on its side. "It probably just fell off the cart." Ever the furtive businesswomen, eye contact almost made, the vendor verbally grabbed the mother's attention. "Would you care for ah fruit?"
"O? I do suppose that's what he wants, kids these days, making up the wildest stories just to get some food."
"Mommmiiiiiiiieeeee!" Tugging, ripping at the sleeve, the boy wildly thrusted a finger accusingly at the apple as it continued to try and cram itself down the drain. "Well" she spoke in a huff, "no fruit for you until you learn to behave in public mister."
Gouging itself in half from the inside-out, the apple disappeared. A master of stealth, skilled in the art of the blade; the most talented apple ever grown, descended into the depths of the city.
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Falcon
New Member
I'll peck your bleedin' eyes out.
Posts: 13
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Post by Falcon on Jan 28, 2008 10:11:59 GMT -6
(Note: Italics are specific thoughts, since Edward is a mute.)
Edward was tired. Yes, quite tired. But that wasn't the point at this moment, what was the point was his lack of a place to sleep. He'd been keeping the same steady, slow pace through this ruin of a city all day, watching the people scurry about, attempting to live their shattered lives in this place. It was like most every city he'd seen. It was pathetic.
The denizens or the city, Edward? Which of them are pathetic?
The man shrugged the thought off with no visible physical motion, continuing to stare through the curtain of hair hanging over his glasses.
"You know, Edward. You think far too harshly of these people. I remember this place...what happened here. They have no choice but to live this way."
Edward gave his attention upwards to the cloaked giant accompanying him. Yes, Penance. An interesting name. Perhaps the world decided to curse him, make him repent by traveling with arguably the most quiet man in existence. But at least he rarely complained about his lack of speech.
Penance chuckled and shook his head, his eyes scanning the path for any possible threats. That was his job, though he was still unsure as to the meaning of his job. He was to protect this quiet man. He did so begrudgingly at first, but grew to like the man. Now it was only a matter of time before the wheels began turning and things were set into motion. That would be his time.
"If I remember correctly, there was a base in the sewers here at one time...they may still be there. If we pull the helpless refugee act, they might give us shelter until we leave. How does that sound to you?"
Edward gave the slightest of nods, veering down an alley at the next available opportunity, headed for the drain concealed within. He hated sewers. But if that was where he had to go, so be it.
((OOC: A double post it is!))
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Falcon
New Member
I'll peck your bleedin' eyes out.
Posts: 13
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Post by Falcon on Feb 3, 2008 17:43:09 GMT -6
"...Why is it always sewers? Why? All I want is some sort of nice, upscale hotel. But no. All I get is dank, dirty, musty sewers. Don't you ever travel anywhere with the slightest sense of class, Edward? Honestly..."
Penance sighed to himself and looked around the sewers, tramping along behind the mute man. Sometimes the silence bothered him, but more often than not he paid it no mind. As the pair walked, Penance also noticed something. These sewers seemed familiar to him somehow. He wasn't sure why but he felt a pull from these dank passages.
Edward smiled to himself the slightest bit at Penance's comments, shoving his hands into his pockets. It felt a bit cold down here to him. These sewers didn't seem forbidding as most though and they were certainly in better condition. Not good, as no sewer could be considered "good", but...better.
The walking continued for a slight while longer before Edward came to a halt, Penance mimicking him. The young man turned and summarily sat down, leaning his head back up against the wall. Penance raised an eyebrow before sitting down as well, crossing his legs and lowering his head.
"I suppose that means It's time for a rest. I'll wake you up shortly."
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