J u i c e

[frisson]

J U I C E
"I-it's vibrations! Wavelengths! On a quantum scale... they, they affect everything, they explain how the Juice exists!"​

Year 2196
Earth's united efforts to abate the impending resource crisis has lead mankind beyond the reach of their own solar system in search of mineral rich planets, or, alternatively, an entirely new energy source. The story begins upon the discovery of such an energy source, on a far-off planet known as Agatha, in the nearby solar system of Cygni. Almost invisible due to a heavy electrostatic fog that encapsulates the entire planet, the planet was happened upon by coincidence, or as some have come to believe, divine intervention.

Agatha is approximately twice the size of Jupiter, and appears to consist entirely of an ocean body; a sea of liquid electricity that strangely emits no heat signature. On-board scientists temporarily dubbed the mysterious substance as Amorphous-Plasma-Cousin (a lot of them were Japanese), but was soon known colloquially among the fleet as "Juice". The maximum volume of Juice that was harvested and transported back to Earth was roughly one cubic mile collectively. However, the potency was underestimated, and it was soon discovered that this relatively small capacity was enough to facilitate the entirety of Earth's past energy needs six times over.

Year 2208
It had been a total of twelve years since the Prometheus Fleet had left Earth and their return brought a definitive end to "fuel fear". After the utter nuclear decimation of Korea in the Third World War, the UN imposed a world-wide prohibition on almost all nuclear technologies that extended even to power production plants, which was where Korea had been constructing the majority of their weapons base. Well over 500,000 warheads were collectively dispersed into space (where outlandish rumors soon arose of Martian colonists having retrieved a number to be sold back to countries through the silk veil market). This extreme measure had caused much political unrest over the years that were finally quelled with Prometheus Fleet's return.

There was initial economical instability, what with most countries finding that through the worldwide Juice distribution they no longer needed to buy from other nations, and that things like coal and oil plummeted rapidly in value. But this was soon amended with the rise of new Juice technologies, a growing market with untapped potential that primarily revolved around innovation of existing tech. Juice batteries. Juice vehicles. Juice ammunition. Mankind itched to make a return visit to Agatha, and with the construction of a new fleet things were almost underway.



Year 2209
Agatha was believed to have been totally uninhabited, but a less likely existence had infested its waters and been brought back to Earth. A virus. A highly advanced virus that had lived off the juice parasitically, and now it had been introduced to other lifeforms. It seemed to possess the neural network and literally control the host, driving them into insane fits of violence. Wild animals flooded into cities and attacked pedestrians on the streets, people themselves took arms, worked together and began killing other people. It had escalated to the point that over 60% of the entire world's population had been infected.



Out of the 60% infected, 0.6% overcame the infection through what has been accepted as a threat-to-species reactionary evolution: where the infection was driven out of the subject's body through a sub-conscious neuro-kinetic field. Through the same effect, the subjects began to develop what was quite blatantly psychic powers. These "Espers" were rounded up by each respective nation's military, though it's quite possible some escaped their detection. Those capable of any destructive talents were hastily trained to be used against the infected, hopefully even to drive out the infection if possible, in what had almost become the Fourth World War, or perhaps more appropriately: the First Inter-Species War.



Year 2210
The virus simply stopped. It went dormant. People awoke from a state of stupor with little to no memory of what had happened. The environment might have been a factor, maybe the fact that the virus was no longer feeding on Juice. Nobody knew, and weren't willing to find out. Experiments on the virus were prohibited, instead a worldwide effort focused on finding "post-infected" and removing the virus through MRI-esque machines based on the neuro-kinetic fields produced by the Espers. Some Espers could even remove the virus from others themselves.

Year 2212
A number of nations (unbeknown to one another) began conducting experiments in the hopes of isolating the Esper gene. There have been varying degrees of success.
Nations specifically: America, Russia, Japan, China, Britain and Finland.

Year 2216 (present)
Affluence in Juice, Juice weaponry and the temptation of Esper power has lead China and Finland to form an unlikely alliance against the rest of the world, Russia maintains distance from these events. Past/Future note: China is no longer a communist nation, but has regressed to Imperial Dictatorship under an Emperor Lu Wei.
March 6th
Once more, on the brink of another World War, the virus awakes from dormancy. But things are different this time. While originally the infected amassed into great hordes, there now appears to be a hierarchy in their currently small yet growing population. Some are much more intelligent.

Also, the virus seems to have branched in strain. The majority are infected by a parasitic strain. But a symbiotic strain exists in a 0.1% of infected. These infected retain their minds, yet gain all the beneficial effects of the virus, such as enhanced strength, speed, reflexes and regenerative tissue.

Meanwhile, an autopsy on an infected body conducted by a Russian scientist has revealed something alarming. The virus itself was not of organic origin, but of technological. An advanced bio-technology that seemed to emulate a microscopic organism.

Which means that it was originally created by something else.

 

[frisson]

Well yeah, this is basically a roleplay I guess, where you guys can choose from a bunch of crazy roles where some crazy stuff might happen, and with much bigger plot twists still waiting to be revealed. If you can't see the direction things might start off at don't worry, I'll be working that in soon enough once(if) the roleplay starts. At the moment you should be more focused on your own character, as it's one of the few things you need to know. Your character will determine what you can and can't do, who you're friends with, where you might end up, your goal, all that. I've sort of implemented a loose class system in that respect. I'll be adding things as ideas expand, such as Juice weapons (where I only have like basic guns in mind at the moment) and any ideas you can come up with would help, so post them in this thread, as this is the OOC thread and thats the kind of stuff you do in an OOC thread I guess. Anyway, I'll start with classes and then maybe subclasses, and then later I might expand on key nations and how they influence the world of 2216. Add some historic events that I've neglected to mention etc.

And by the way, only one person to each sub-class, unless specified otherwise.


Characters

The Civilian - /Ulti

Spoiler Show

Name: Raven "Raving Raven" Hanson

Age:

Gender: Female

Alignment: Neutral

Nationality: Not really clear. Her appearance gives her the way of an European.

Personality: It has been clear thus far what Raven is all about. But no, she is not mentally insane. She is pretty intelligent in fact. Out of all of her peers, she is seen as a senior. It is her methods of getting a story that puts others in a state of intense confusion. She is known for using the oddest tools and tactics to get all sides of a story. Be it dumpster diving or spying on a suspect as though if she were a ninja, Raven has left little to the imagination. A cheerful fellow, she never is dragged down by a sad or terrible story, a main reason why she is used in the most gruesome ones. Her kind and trusting face easily draws the truth from suspects. And if she can't use legal ways of getting information, Raven has a nice stack of blackmail on every crooked character in the city.

As a reporter, Raven does not care who she has to smash to get a story. Sure, she likes to help catch the bad guys to make the world a safer place, but if some random coke dealer has to get himself caught in her little web, she will gladly watch him get devoured. It can be simply thought that she only cares for money. Not true. In fact, Raven's cash flow is rather short due to keeping the law off her ass and the underground within her reach. The only real affection she ever gives is to her partner, Faze

Appearance: Popping out of a Dick Tracy comic, Raven is the ideal picture of a "reporter". On the job, she dons a two sizes too big tan trench coat held together with a chocolate brown belt. She also wears a similar colored fedora with the instructions card from a deck of cards ( she claims it beats all ) tucked in a small pocket. It is said that she wears several watches on her left wrist, but because of the size of the trench coat, it is impossible to see any part of her arms. The same can be said for leg apparel. Since her ankles can be seen when she walks, people assume she wears shorts. Her jet black hair is cropped short, falling just above her shoulders. To make her appearance even more odd, Raven was born with two colored eyes, the left being brown and the right a dark blue.

Background: At a young age, Miss Raven loved crime dramas. It was after a decade's worth of television, she believed herself to be an expert on the subject. Sadly, she flunked out of college. She was pretty horrible at everything the police and scientists do. A few months after doing odd jobs, legal and seemingly-illegal-but-seriously-ok, she was recruited at the local newspaper. Another few months later, Raven was given a raise and a promotion. If it was one thing she could do, it was get every single detail on a story. It was like a calling that never bothered to call Raven first before calling her employer.

No one questioned Raven's tactics. A story was a story, no matter how it was obtained. Soon she found herself covering murders and high scaled scandals. She was a great reporter, but Raven felt like she could do better. And she did this by purchasing a young bloodhound. Thus did Raven create Freakish Faze. Like his owner, Faze did not act like a normal dog. He followed everything Raven did precisely when he was supposed to. If Raven needed help digging through garbage to find a particular item belong to a particular suspect, Faze would bound to the item in seconds. If she needed a semen sample sniffed to find out who was sleeping with the senator's wife, Faze would find the man and serve his own dose of justice for good measure. Raving Raven and Freakish Faze. What a pair.

Raven carries an old fashioned camera. The one the gives you the picture and you have to shake it to see the picture and has that fist sized flash that blinded so many. But thanks again to her numerous odd jobs, she has tweaked it to produce pictures that are actually better than a digital photograph. Basically, Raven has morphed herself into a cross between an olden time investigator and futuristic reporter. It works, so she sticks with it. Faze doesn't seem to mind his odd owner and that is just as good as the world accepting her for Raven.

Weapon(s): Being a reporter type person, Raven does not hold items that can be legal called as a weapon. But she does carry a few items that are "capable of leaving more than a bruise but Raven is above such tactics unless the situation calls for them". One item that Raven uses often looks like a normal car alarm. But with a few tweaks here and there, she has developed an electronic scrambler. Yes, its an item she made up. Basically, Raven is capable of putting any electronic device on the fritz for around five minutes. Its no wonder she is able to get past security so easily. Now, what would that do to a human? Raven has not tried but is willing.

While not classified as a weapon, Raven's mind is as deadly as any blade. With a deep and boundless knowledge of every dirty fink in any current city she is in, she has no trouble finding the perfect nerve to snatch on any person she is tracking. With her deep connections into the black market, Raven could have anything anyone could want. It is tough to say no to a girl who holds all your desires and fears in one hand. Occasionally, Faze has been known to latch onto a few limbs in protection of his master. Raven does not even have to do anything to have someone terribly wounded.

In short, stay away.

Theme Song: White Rabbit. It just is.

Militant
You serve your nation's military in some way.
(I know, I have a very laughable and narrowminded knowledge base when it comes to the military)

Tactician
You are in some position of power in either the army/navy/air force. You make all the tactical decisions and don't actually fight yourself. You gain control of expendable NPCs however, that can fight for you.

The "Example" Leader - Sgt. William Decoverly /Ordeith

Spoiler Show

Name: Sgt. William DeCoverly
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Nationality: British
Faction: UN
Class: Militant, Front Line Leader

Appearance: At an imposing six feet and two inches, with a powerful, broad-shouldered build, Sergeant DeCoverly carries himself with the lofty air of a schoolyard bully, using his physical makeup to instill motivational terror in those around him. Beyond his actual bone structure, however, there isn't very much actually behind all of his bluster; his strapping barrel chest only stays in place as long as he puffs himself outwards as far as he can, and he purposely wears shirts several sizes too large for him so that his somewhat shrimplike arms stay hidden inside the wide sleeves. Facially, however, DeCoverly isn't quite so out-of-shape, mostly due to a slight obsession with personal grooming. Broad, squarish face kept perpetually clean-shaven, skin clear of any blemishes, blondish-brown hair always trimmed in an orderly crew cut, he strikes onlookers as the quintessential military man. He has a straight, pointed nose, well-defined jaw, and large dark eyes which--when the eyebrows above them are furrowed, as they often are--give him a grave appearance. His "well-defined" jaw appears as such only because of sheer boniness, however....

In terms of clothing, he dresses in the standard attire for all UN soldiers, usually camo when in the field, but in a plain beige shirt, khaki pants, and black shoes and tie otherwise.

Personality: Though he makes a valiant attempt to appear otherwise, Sergeant DeCoverly has only a very vague idea of what it is he's supposed to be doing at any given time. At best, he knows the basic order in which he bathes, brushes his teeth, washes his face each morning; at all other times, however, he is simply far too lazy to care in the slightest. Mostly incompetent at his position, he developed a fair bit of apathy towards the military and whatever nonsense they had him running off to do next; he'd never particularly wanted to be a part of the armed forces in the first place, so this lack of care for his assignments is merely "the icing on the cake." William was never a very motivated person, except when the subject was his own life, which he will defend with the feral viciousness of a cornered weasel, in spite of the fact that he hasn't done very much with it in the first place.

It was to that end that he persevered through the very bottom of the ranks to become a sergeant, since he would then have a nice little group of men to jump behind when the shrapnel began to fly. When first promoted, however, he made absolutely no attempt to hide this fact in front of his men, and was met with a palpable wall of scorn from them. Quickly becoming the most hated man in the entire military, DeCoverly hastily forged some paperwork testifying to his most vehement haters' lack of drive, and had each of them promptly dismissed from duty. With his next regiment of men, the sergeant made sure to appear extra-committed for them, so that when the time came, they'd be more than willing to lay their lives down for him (that was his exact reasoning). And so, his entire career as a sergeant has been dedicated towards building a facadé, and thus far, it has been the most he's ever dedicated himself to something.

Brief History: Living off the fat of his late parents' will, Sgt. DeCoverly did practically nothing in terms of an actual occupation before joining the military. To give him some credit, he did work for four years to earn an art degree, which is to say that he spent those four years to obtain a worthless college degree, so that he would be able to say that he had a college degree. It wasn't that he was/is a stupid fellow; he just lacked any motivation to pursue any of his interests. Later, a few years following the first outbreak of the virus, he immediately joined the military, which he reasoned was safer, since they were all given safety equipment at no charge. From then on, he simply continued on in the military, figuring that there was more enjoyment to be had there then in finding a place where his art degree was worth something.

Weapon: [to be added]

Character Themesong: [to be added]
Battle Themesong: [to be added]

The Dogs -four slots for this one-
You're a grunt in whatever squad you're in. But You have spirit. Not to mention awesome Juice weapons.

Pilot -two slots-
You're the ace pilot manning one of the new and very dangerous Juice aircrafts.

Scientist -two slots-
You work for the military further probing the secrets of the espers and trying to develop new Juice weaponry. You have a few secret gadgets yourself just in case things don't go your way.

The Test Subject - Luke Mason /Endgame

Spoiler Show

Name: Luke Mason
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Nationality: Mixed descent. He lives and works in the United States, but was brought up in Moscow, Russia, by his grandparents. His father was a U.S. Marine, as he himself is, his mother a Russian Mail-Order bride.

Class: Test Subject
Appearance: Pic once I beat my scanner into submission or download the drivers it needs. Fairly standard: Muscular, tall, hazel eyes, chin stubble, shaved head.

Personality/History: To understand Luke, you must first understand James Mason, his father.

A U.S. Marine, James was far from a saint. If he wasn't on duty, he was drunk, and when he got drunk, he got violent. In 2176, he faced a court-martial for offences commited during his tour of duty, including the beating of an Armenian prostitute which resulted indirectly in her death several days later. Nothing could be proven, but several reports from his commanding officers confirmed his role in a number of barracks altercations, and in 2178, he was given a dishonourable discharge.

He took the blow how he took them all: With a shot of spirits. Eventually he found work as an enforcer in organised crime pertaining to the import and exploit of Russian women.

One of these women in particular caught his interest, and he developed a soft-spot for her, paying her debt to his bosses from his own paycheck to rescue her from the cycle of drugs and violence that most such women in his line of work fell victim to. Inevitably, the old adage 'Out of the frying pan, into the fire.' Came into effect, and the prospect of being used and beaten by strangers was replaced with the prospect of being used and beaten by a man she admired and loved. Soon, she disovered she was pregnant, and fearful that her husband's violent outbursts would endanger the baby, left him and went into hiding.

When Luke was born, she had him sent to live with his grandparents in her homeland. Shortly afterward, she vanished.

Raised by his bitter, pro-communist grandparents, Luke had a hard childhood, an experience which inevitably made him stronger. At the age of 16, he left Russia and moved to the U.S. with the intention of finding his father.

And find him he did, in a less-moral establishment on the backstreets of Las Vegas with an oiled-up young woman grinding up against him. Obviously the encounter wasn't the happy ending that James was expecting, and he rejected his son. In time, he gave in and took Luke out to a strip club for a few drinks. The men eventually developed a stotic, almost wordless relationship. They'd only ever make small talk, they'd never discuss the deeper issues between them, or their relationship. Once, after one of James' infamous Vegas pub-crawls, Luke made the mistake of asking him about his mother, James' wife. He was in the hospital for a week afterwards. The next time they saw each other, they simply went on drinking and making small talk as if nothing had happened.

It was not that James resented or disliked his son. On the contrary, he'd grown fond of him and enjoyed his company, he just didn't know how to express those feelings without, in his own words 'Soundin' like some muffin-headed liberal queer.' His way of expressing his love was buying Luke a bottle of tequila and a private dance with a semi-legal Mexican stripper. ('She might na' be legal 'ere, boy, but she is where she comes from!')

A short time after, in a bid to win some sign of affection from his father, Luke joined the U.S. Military, James' bosses came to suspect him of skimming money from their deals, and dealt with the problem in their usual manner: A bullet to the head. Ironically, James's body was later found in the same river his wife's body had been discovered in some 25 years earlier.

Luke never shed a single tear for him. He knew, had James still been alive, he'd have spent another week in hospital for doing so.

His efforts in the military, however, quickly caught the attention of his superiors. Within four years, he was accepted into the 236th Close Combat and Recon Division: his father's old unit. His combat skill, analytical thinking, and ability to make quick, yet informed descisions soon drew the eyes of his commander's commanders, and in 2210, he was transferred to the 92nd Advanced Combat and Tactics divison, in truth, an experimental project aimed at creating 'Super-Soldiers'.

Present-Day. Luke is a strong, stotic man. Like his father before him, he looks upon outward displays of affection as a sign of weakness, and the closest he'll come to showing it is a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Like his father, he lives alone. Like his father, the few friends he has are those he works alongside, and even then, they're little more then aquaintances. Unlike his father, he dosn't drink: Alcohol is prohibited by his division.

He carries to this day a mixed contempt and mistrust of women, a direct result of his father's warped sexist views, though in some ways, he also dosn't know how to interact with them, and uses this mistrust to hide his uncertainty. Unsurprising, given that his only role-model saw women only as objects, and he never truly had an example of a healty relationship between man and woman. In his eyes, influenced by his drunken father's, women should be subservient, and to this end, strong women tend to intimidate and threaten him.

He is the subject of constant experimentation by his superiors, which he himself is largely unaware of. Aside from a few missing days of his life here and there, detatched memories of the faces of masked doctors looming over him, and occasionally being asked to take a pill or an injection of mysterious origins before an excercise, his life is like that of any other soldier. Apart, of course, from the halucinations, though he dosn't mention those to anyone. It wouldn't do if someone knew that the son of James Mason keeps a padlock on the door of his hall cupboard ever since the fire-breathing, six-headed beast within tried to eat him. He, of course, hasn't noticed the slow improvement in his reaction times, peripheral vision, or co-ordination, nor his heightened levels of natural aggression.

Weapon(s): During his military training, he developed proficincies with most modern weapons, and during the many bar-fights his father dragged him into, he developed a similar aptitude for improvised weaponary. As a former Commando, he's highly skilled in close-quarters combat, both with his hands and his Fairburn-Sykes Combat Knife. He's an excellent shot at close-to-mid range, but has limited skill at long range, prefering to leave that to his squad's designated marksmen or snipers. His preffered weapon is any variable-fire mode assault rifle, allowing him to adapt between single-fire, burst-fire, and full automatic as the situation demands, although he shows a clear preference for higher-calibre weapons. He exploits the 2156 revisions to the geneva convention to their full effect by loading his guns with hollow-point bullets, a type of ammunition that expands and shatters on impact, previously restricted to hunting and banned in warfare because of the widespread damage they cause irellevant of the point of impact.

His preffered sidearm is a classic Desert Eagle XIX, a variation on the aging weapon that expands the .44 magazine to allow for a greater capacity. While not as advanced as modern juice-based weaponary, the weapon has such force that, if he were to fire it several times in rapid succession, the kickback would break his wrist and probably dislocate his shoulder, and easily measures up in both stopping power and round velocity to most of the more advanced sidearms. When his squadmates question his use of such a relic, he responds with a stony stare.

Signature Move:

Leapfrog Manuvere
Luke drills his squad relentlessly, and despite their differences, he's forged them into an efficent machine that works single-mindedly. Their signature, devised by him, is a spasmodic advance known as the 'Leapfrog Manuvere', designed for a forced advance on fortified enemy positions through difficult terrain. It relies entirely on teamwork and timing. At any single stage of the advance, no less then half the squad will have their weapons trained on the enemy position, while the other half advances under their cover fire. The group operates in a set of two-man teams, where each team contains one advancing soldier, and one covering soldier. The teams will switch roles periodically, with the advancing soldier switching to provide cover for his teammate to advance past him, at which point they switch back. All teams switch independantly based on their own progress through the terrain. The result is an unpredictable series of switches at unpredictable intervals, which leaves no blind spot and no moments of vunerability, while allowing the entire squad to advance relativly swiftly. The only counter to it is blind-fire, which itself is rendered ineffective by the speed of the advance.

The Entertainer
As a child on the streets of Moscow, Luke found a number of ways to earn a small income to help his grandparents suppot him. One of these was juggling for the entertainment of passers-by, a skill that Luke's adapted to his close-quarters combat. When using his Combat Knife, he will rapidly perform a series of slashes while tossing the blade from hand-to-hand at such practiced speeds it's difficult for the naked eye to follow, starting the next slash in sequence with his empty hand while the Knife's still in the other hand, and switching it quickly just before the slash lands, allowing him to use the full force and inertia of both arms without any noticible drop in speed. The downside of this is that he tends to follow the same routine each time, which can make the technique predictable if it's been observed previously.

'Wake up to yourself!'
Luke deals with drama the same way his father did: A swift and solid uppercut to the jaw, followed by buying the shocked recipiant a beer.
Battle Theme: Muse - Stockholm Syndrome

Esper
You resisted the infection. It left a powerful, wracking sensation in your mind that still faintly aches to this very day, and more. You've either been taken in by the military because you accidentally revealed your abilities, or you're in hiding, trying to suppress your abilities and be normal, or maybe you're refining them to become something great. Anyone who isn't an Esper usually fears or dislikes you. Espers have a unique metabolism, you must eat twice as much as an athlete does daily in order to sustain your powers. Espers placed in conditions of starvation were found to age rapidly. Thus it is not unlikely for an Esper to be seen snacking, even in the midst of combat. Though all Espers seem to share the same immunity to the infection, their abilities have deviated into a number of different categories.

The Psychokinetic - Jessica Sanders /Piercing Light

Spoiler Show

Name: Jessica Sanders
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Alignment: Neutral Good
Nationality: British
Faction: UN
Class: Psychokinetic

Appearance:

Spoiler Show

Personality: Jessica Is a daydreamer, often staring out into space about next to nothing. This is usually because she's bored, see Jessica isn't excited by much and almost always has a apathetic look on her face. She's been seen yawning during combat training or even actual missions. Seemingly the only thing that can prevent her from dieing of boredom is playing her violin, or indulging in video games.

Brief History: Born in Britain, more specifacly Little Hampton, Jessica was rasied in a well off household. Above avarge income, careing and loving parents. It was an ideal life really. Well Jessica was never content with the monaotny of her life. Always the same thng everyday to her, get up, go to school, rinse and repeat. There was a point where she almost resorted to drug use, however after thinking about it she relised that the only thing worse than being bored 24/7 was twitching 24/7 with damaged brain. When she was nineteen years old, her collage took a trip to a fruit juice shipping plant... That was powered by jucie machines of course. Long story short there was an incedent that exposed Jess to jucie. She spent two long and painfull months in a privite government hospital, watched and tested on by scientists. When she fully recovered and her abilitys were noticed, she was put into the military. She id till alowwed minimal contact with her family.

Weapon: The IPD or Infantry protection device. When unactivated the IPD looks like a simple flat metal disk that's one foot all around in circumference. When turned on the juice operated machine expands to a all around four foot radius, and a force field is generated. The IPD can be attached to a designated spot on the body with a unique attachment.
Signature move:

Character Themesong:

Spoiler Show

Battle Themesong:

Spoiler Show

Alt. Battle Themesong:

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The Pyrokinetic - Anthony Redbridge /MESMAR_RISING

Spoiler Show

Name: Anthony Redbridge
Aliases: Currently goes by “Bryan Webb” also has gone by “William Smith” and “Cody Matthews” in the past.
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral
Nationality: Canadian
Class: Esper (Pyrokinetic)

Appearance:

Personality: The most defining aspect of Bryan’s personality would likely be his constant fear of being discovered that he deals with by remaining unnoticed by those around him. Everything about his life has been engineered by him in order not to draw attention from any who would decide to take a closer look. This obsessive need to be as normal as humanly possible has stripped him of the majority of his social skills, preferring to remain quiet amongst his peers. The few people that he interacts with on a day to day basis often joke about Bryan being a serial killer because, as they often say, “It’s always the quiet ones.” Of course, Bryan has never killed anyone. He doesn’t have the stomach for it. If he can’t even stomach milk (he’s lactose intolerant) how could he ever manage to dispose of a body?

Bryan remains content as he can be in his current situation and believes that, all things considered, his life is pretty normal. Aside from what some would describe as an unnatural (which he would then object stating that it’s justified) fear of dogs and heights, Bryan appears to be your average, low-income American male.

Brief History:

Bryan’s life up to age 22 was quite normal all things considered. Anthony, as he was known then, was raised by both his mother and his father in Southern Ontario, a kindergarten teacher and bank manager respectively. He had friends, played sports, had girlfriends and worked shitty part-time jobs much like any teenager was expected to. Although at the time it was all he had known and thus he thought nothing of it, his life was privileged and he took it for granted. This of course, like all things seemed to, all changed when he was 22.

Some days it seems like a lifetime ago since it happened, and others he can take himself through the events step by step as he watched his whole world burn down in front of him. He woke up that morning later than usual, it was his day off so he didn’t actually bother setting his alarm. It was the screaming that got him out of bed. Standing up quickly, half-dressed and clutching his now throbbing forehead. Staggering into the hall dizzy from the pain, Anthony found the corpse of his younger brother crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. To this day the image of his bruised, lifeless eyes looking at his older brother as if for help haunt him. His pain seemed to be amplified as the light bulb above him burst shards of glass raining down, and tears began to stream down his face.

Now on his knees, Anthony looked to his right and found his mother being choked by his father in the doorway to their room. What she might have intended to be a scream instead came out as a weak, gurgling hiss from his mothers mouth as her eyes rolled back into her head and Anthony helplessly watched her die. After this point Anthony’s memory of that day’s events become unclear. What he does remember clearly is the fact that as quickly as this had all begun, his house exploded into flames. Anthony disappeared in the confusion, in the process moving to the United States under the guise of “Cody Matthews,” however has been forced to relocate on several instances due to similar cases of unexplainable fires and various other accidents.

Since his last disappearance, he has changed his identity to that of Bryan Webb and currently works as the night janitor for his local newspaper. He is still not entirely aware that he is in fact an Esper, having no conscious control (or desire to further explore) his powers. Although it is of course obvious that a part of him knows he is in fact an Esper due to his now ridiculous appetite and the fact that similar reports of unexplainable arson seem to follow him wherever he goes. Despite this, he denies what he is even to himself.

Weapon: He has a baseball bat near his bed because his house was broken into once, but that’s about it.
Signature move: N/A

Character Themesong: Hero by Regina Spektor

Telepathic
Tuning into the wavelengths of another person's mind like a radio, you sense others thoughts, feelings and intentions, and maybe even one day... control them. You can also broadcast your thoughts to others.

The Synesthesist - Alex Wei Chiong /Wynn

Spoiler Show

Name: Alex Wei Chiong

Age: 38

Gender: Male

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Nationality: American national of Chinese descent

Faction: The United Nations

Class: Esper Synesthesist

Appearance: [IMG]http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs33/f/2008/290/f/d/fd83f9607c6e367eada9a4b2c0808d7a.jpg[/IMG]

Obviously not mine. Credit to the original artist.

Personality: Alex suffers from, or rather perfected, what he considers to be "extrasensory personality disorder" which enables him to condition his mind to act out as any persona he needs to be while retaining the knowledge that he is in a trance. While it doesn't roll off the tongue, it helps him deal with the loneliness of the empty apartment he calls home and, to an extent, his even emptier social life. He just doesn't feel any emotional attachment to anyone once he gets out of a character. I guess the best way to describe him would be nihilistic. Alex reckons this was the same way he felt before since he can't really recall anything prior to becoming an Esper, as the white coats who observe his day to day life call him. Funny how he can have access to any information except his own.

Brief History: Well, this is a tough one. Even if you ask the man himself, he can't give you straight answer. Heck, he doesn't even remember being named Alex Wei Chiong but a name tag on his shirt at the time he gained consciousness seems to give enough merit. The moment he woke up at though, he went for the bag of Doritos on the shelf next to him. Only after ate every last chip did he question what just happened. As he looked around the grocery section of the mall he found himself in, Alex started to feel dizzy from trying to remember what just happened. Did something blunt hit him in the head? Or were those chips past their expiry date? He tried to think more about it... But this made his head hurt even more. That was it! He was thinking too hard. Alas, he did not know how to stop thinking. I mean, who does? And thinking about not being able to stop thinking just made it even worse.

He passed out soon after. Once he regained consciousness, he found himself in a bed with people in white lab coats surrounding him. There, it was explained to him that he was now part of some protection program. The information they shared felt like something he already knew though. Indeed, the white coats explained that he might've picked it up during his sleep through various stimuli found in the room. They implanted a regulator nanochip beneath the epidermis of his right palm to stabilize his new found abilities. A few months after this, Alex was already in service as a special information specialist, aiding UN operatives in various hostile situations.

When the pandemic finally subsided, Alex was slowly being placed back into society, this time starting out as a taxi driver. Even this has limitations though as he is still under observation by the government through multiple cameras in his apartment and in his work places. Recently, he has been having nightmares of riots, buildings on fire, and general chaos. And knowing his dreams having a tendency to come true...

Weapon: Alex does not require any weaponry in his cover professions though he speculates it would be easy to acquire and proficiently learn how to handle them through his powers. All speculation, mind you.

Though not necessarily a weapon in the orthodox sense, the taxi cab which he operates is heavily customized. Alex has personally installed a UN communications interceptor as part of the multimedia system found in his cab and the engine has been specially designed to accept various forms of fuel, ranging from diesel to, of course, Juice.

The Blinker- Dmitri Sokolov /Kiba

Spoiler Show

Name: Dmitri Sokolov

Age : 33

Gender : Male.

Alignment :Neutral.

Nationality : Russian and French.

Faction : None, since Russia is hunting him.

Class : Esper; Blinker.

Appearance :

Dmitri stands at about five feet nine inches and wields a somewhat athletic build. His eyes are a light gray with yellow specks which accents his light brown hair handsomely. His skin tone is a pale creamy color and is quite unblemished except for a small scar on his left cheek. He has a defined jaw line and proportionately sculpted chin making him quite the looker. He has no facial hair, and his medium length hair is slicked back. His attire consists of whatever he can get his hands on, most of the time through thievery. His clothing currently consists of gray overalls, a white undershirt, and black shoes.

Personality : Dmitri is a pretty nice guy. He is chivalrous and quite honest, however being on the run has made him not able to trust many people. He usually has to ditch most people due to the fact that they lead the police to him forcing him to teleport. He doesn't want to be experimented on and really isn't on either country's "side" at the moment. He is very skeptical causing people not to trust him, which in the long run is for the better. He has no time for love or relationships so he doesn't waste time dilly dallying in them.

Brief History :

Moscow, birthplace to Dmitri Sokolov in the year 2183. He was born to two loving parents who were both quite wealthy. His mother was born in France and met Dmitri's father on a tour with her theater troupe. His father a wealthy politician had attended one of her shows and insisted on meeting her. When they met it was love at first sight and she abandoned the troupe to move to Moscow and marry Dmitri's father. They loved each other dearly and gave birth to a healthy, strong and beautiful baby boy. He was a strapping lad, and excelled in his homeschooling. Fast forward several years, past high school which he did equally well in, to the year 2209. Dmitri now 26, along with his father, was infected by the 'virus' brought on by the 'juice'. After several days his father was left in a coma but Dmitri's body showed great progress in fighting off the invading virus. The sensation or rather pain of his body trying to eliminate the virus can still be felt to this day.

When the virus finally succumbed to the defense/offense that his body had put up he vanished from the small hospital room only to reappear in the home he had lived in as a child. He was naked, not a thread of clothing on his back. This was the first time he 'blinked' and it felt as if a person had wrapped truck tires in barbed wires and ran over his head several times. Luckily the house was empty because he laid on the empty wooden floor unconscious for three days. He woke up to the sight of a small white cat licking his face. He had no idea what had happened or that the Russian police/army was looking for him.

The second time he blinked was several days later while running from the police. He'd made his way back to Moscow and found his mother, who was quite surprised and frightened to see him. She told him about the police and how they had a warrant for his arrest. This confused him because he had done nothing wrong. They somehow found out that his mother was housing him, rumor states that it was the nosy neighbor, and they came. He left out the back door and ran several miles in the freezing Moscow winter weather. They pursued him by automobile until he dodged them in the forest where they had to follow on foot. He ran across a large lake, frozen over by the cold and they did not pursue because the ice was unstable. He stepped badly and the ice cracked sending him into the deathly freezing waters. He teleported again, this time retaining his clothes and part of the water around him, and ended up in a field in America that he'd seen in a picture. He then teleported immediately from the field and into his child hood home.

There was a pattern he'd noticed over the years: Stress was a factor in the reason that he 'blinked' or teleported. The years following he was constantly on the run, the Russian government never quite able to catch him. He trained himself so that the 'blinking' was controlled... somewhat. He has yet to teleport more than himself and his clothing; That alone is straining physically and mentally. He has not made contact with either of his parents and remains in hiding. Nobody knows where he hides today.

Weapon : No weapons.

Signature move : At the moment he has none.

Character Theme song: Click - I thought it appropriate. ^^
Battle Theme song:

Symbiote
You were infected, and yet... here you are. You don't feel any different, except a hell of a lot more powerful. Who knows what you're going to do now, stir havoc with your strange new abilities? Maybe the military got a hold of you too. Maybe you just want to figure out what's happening to you. Maybe you want to help anyone you can from the Parasites. Your body regenerates. However, if your head is ever disconnected from your body, that's it. You like the taste of Juice. It keeps you strong. But large reserves of Juice are hard to find... luckily pretty much any battery you see these days has Juice, and it's the same stuff that powers all the soldier's weaponry. After consuming enough Juice you discover a talent.

The Recombant - Adrien Langdon /∞

Spoiler Show

Name: Adrien Langdon
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Nationality: Australian
Faction: UN
Class: Symbiote Recombant

Appearance: Built tall and lanky, Adrien stands at nearly seven feet tall. Upon his crown sits a mess of short, wavy hair - mostly dark brown, with some lighter streaks in it. His eyes are a bright sea-blue. Very slightly tanned, his body is built very athletically.

Personality: A man of conviction and sense of duty, as well as a no-holds-barred, do-what-needs-to-be-done attitude. He rarely takes the time to get to know new people unless out of necessity, instead preferring to make use of his time to rest up, train, or engage various targets he sets himself or is set to eliminate. Being a Recombant, his actual proficiency in combat may not be great, and when hunting down a target will usually try to enlist the help of others more capable. Usually distant, it's rare to see him not on the move, dodging questions and suspicion as best as he is able. When when calm, he refuses to dawdle. The death of his parents while so close to fighting it off and becoming Espers has left him with both a hatred and an interest in the way the virus works. To better learn of the processes behind it, he travels the world seeking Espers to battle, interview, or even dissect to some degree, to discover more of their powers and their immunity.
Brief History:
Adrien's parents were both infected with the virus when he was conceived, and during the first decade of his life, he steadily saw their bodies losing the fight against the virus, but unwilling to let it ever occupy the body. Just when it seemed the virus had almost been totally worn down and removed, Adrien's parents died not too shortly from the years of exhaustion fighting the virus had left, and their now totally worn-out immune system. Possessing the virus in his own body, Adrien was integrated with it from his conception, but only came to learn about the spread of an extremely strange phenomena in his early twenties, discovering the virus itself, would wrack the bodies of it's hosts with pain before leaving them be or joining with them, in both cases greatly augmenting their physical performance.
Simply how close Adrien's parents came to surviving their virus and leaving it behind to become stronger, has left him with a great loathing for the virus, which accompanies a self-hatred he at most times ignores for the duties he sets himself. Weeks after learning of the virus, Adrien took up Viral Biology and Nanotechnological Engineering studies at Melbourne university. Unfortunately, his drive to learn more of the virus, what left people so polarised in their immunity to it, and how it led to the massive improvement of their bodies, was too great to keep him stuck in Melbourne Uni for the next three or four years of his life. He completed the first year of each study before dropping out. Two years of seemingly-endless hard work - his status as a Symbiote meaning he requires far less sleep - day and night shifts wherever he could find good pay, Adrien amassed the money he thought would keep him self-sustaining until he got to some foreign town or country and work there in brief stints to fund his travels further.

Weapon:
Signature move:

Character Themesong:
Battle Themesong:

Will finish this up soon.

The Juggernaut - Amelia MacBeth /Tenyas

Spoiler Show

Name: Amelia MacBeth

Age: 32

Gender: Female

Alignment: Mainly Neutral Good. She's only chaotic when switched over to her more touchy self.

Nationality: Her roots go back to Scotland, at least, as far as she can tell. There's some German and other mottled things in there as well.

Faction: United Nations

Class: Symbiote Type; Juggernaut [she has the speed down pact, just can't seem to control her strength yet]

Appearance:

Don't be confused, she's not from Belgium. owo

Personality: Not completely there at all times, Amelia can find herself day dreaming at the worst moments. That doesn't mean she's not thinking. Quite the contrary, those times where she's drifting off into her own mind are the times when she's thinking quite deeply, different trains of thought all taking off at once along seperate paths to find out the best route for her to take according to what is being said or asked. Although she's slow to making a decision, she's far from indecisive.

Despite her excessive thinking, Amelia can fall prey to gullibility. She isn't good at judging people and couldn't really spot trouble if it were right under her nose. Although, at random instances, her mind will pick up on any negative vibes coming from a person who thinks ill of her. Not that she'd even do anything then, it'd just be stored in a shelf somewhere in her brain.

As for those times when she can't seem to quite control herself, she does a personality flip. Instead of being passive and rather neutral on all topics, she suddenly becomes incredibly defensive, taking offense to anything said against her as if it were a death threat. It's at times like this when it's good to throw something at her head and literally knock her back to her senses. Just... make sure you hit her hard enough or else you're just going to end up with one really ticked woman on your rear.

Brief History: Used to work as a producer of some of the machines that are powered by Juice and ended up not being protected just enough one day. A slip of the glove, a little dangerous contact with the substance, and she'd been infected. It took a while for it to settle in and there was a period of time where her body had tried rejecting the virus like all people's do. For a while there, she'd been insane and quarintined in case she really tried to hurt anyone aside from herself. But, eventually, her body seemed to accept the intruders and bonded with the odd little microbial machines. Now, held by the military for a mix of experimentation and use in the feild, she's essentially tame and not quite as chaotic as she used to be so long as any sudden cravings for juice are satiated.

Weapon: She carries around a 'modern' version of a tazer for self-defense. It's juice powered, of course, and if it comes down to it serves as emergency rations when any sudden hungers hit her mind. That doesn't mean she doesn't know how to use other weapons, although she does prefer hand-to-hand combat.

Signature move: A round house kick to the head. Under recorded testing conditions, it was found that little Amelia could send people through walls if she put enough into it.

The Chameleon - Louis Laroche /Sepulchre

Spoiler Show

Name: Louis Laroche.
Age: 74.
Gender: Male.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.
Nationality: Typical Eurotrash with an American flavour.
Class: Symbiote (Chameleon)

Appearance: While it is a most unkind thing to say to any gentleman, it would be nonetheless be veracious to declare Louis a pariah to mirrors everywhere. Pale, clammy skin has been crudely stretched across his angular skull; touched here and there by wrinkles and marks no face below the age of one hundred should ever bear. This has strongly accentuated and defined the edges of his cheekbones and jaw – giving him the unforgiving appearance of some gaunt vampire reminiscent of a time before they were considered the glittering apex of beauty.​

His red-brown lips, chapped and thin, give way to reveal heavily nicotine-stained teeth; many of which have been fractured and distorted as much by bad habits as through sheer indolence. Wispy medium-length hair makes a feeble attempt at framing his forlorn features; coiled streaks of mild auburn trickling down past his furrowed brow and wasted cheeks to an abrupt stop above his shoulder-blades. His eyes, however – despite being noticeably deep-set, touched with crows' feet and encircled with a bleak shade of mauve – still shine and twinkle with barely concealed mischief, deep within their cavernous domains.​

He has a notable flair for fashion (with a prevailing fondness for varied winter catalogues that mainly consist of looks Louis fiercely contends can be pulled off in any season), which – while obviously damaged by his less-than-perfect physical condition – is nonetheless accentuated by his lean, yet muscular frame. Overall, however, this gives Louis the amusingly oxymoronic appearance of someone older than he actually is trying to look younger than he actually is.​

Short Personalistory:​

Fashions fade; style is eternal. ~ Yves Saint Lauret​

“How peculiar it is, that our concept of beauty has been changed so dramatically. Oh, I know I know. It was... inevitable, eh? Cheap cosmetic surgery and leaps in the development of genetic engineering changed everything back in the '60's; none of us were doomed to be born with touched minds or missing appendages any more, and everyone could look like their favourite celebrity or rock star. Ah, but if all of us are to possess the perfect skin, perfect lips, perfect body, perfect ass... then what is left to draw the eye, or to stimulate a man or a woman if we are all carbon copies of one another? La poursuite implacable de la perfection... pah. People need something to look down on; something ugly and miserable they can scorn or take pity on, so they can put themselves on a higher pedestal and look down upon us. A simple fact of life... and very easy; surprisingly easy to exploit.​

“That is my job, you see, if 'job' I can call it. I exploit life. I take it, I use it, and I discard it just as quickly; and oh, let me tell you – I have exploited many a life. There is a certain... thrill to it, you see; a thrill that goes well beyond any base pleasure... and I should know. Trust me. Ah, but you must be wondering how one as grotesque as myself can take advantage of the rich and the smart and the beautiful, hmm? Oh, please; no not frown at me like that, ma belle; it so badly distorts your beautiful, natural face.​

“It started in the... early '80's, I think. Please, forgive me; my memory has not served so well as of late. I had gone on a nano-pollen acid binge to bring in the new century, and my long-term memory has still not quite recovered. Anyway, physical beauty had long lost its charm for many, including yours truly. La beauté est dans l'oeil du spectateur; and we had truly beheld it all. Everyone just wanted to be blonde and beautiful; just as the current generation does, and the one after that will. Alas, there is no individuality any more. Huh, it died with our imagination, perhaps. Aah, what have I said!? I do apologise for insulting you, ma belle; a mere slip of the tongue. Oh, I do seem to get so cynical, these days. Hah, and I do seem to keep losing track of my story, don't I? I wonder shall I ever finish it.​

“Well, it was in the late '80's to early 90's – definitely before Agatha, I am sure of that much – that I had finally decided to... have a fresh start. Hah, Il faut que jeunesse se passe, and I had certainly had mine. I spent what little savings I possessed at the time and... 'dismantled' my old body. That is the only word I can think of that would best suit what was done to it, for it certainly was no human body. An abortive attempt to merge a Labyrinth-era David Bowie with the sax player for one of those ska-technopunk bands from the '80's that everyone liked at the time, although I couldn't remember his name for the life of me. Hideous thing, it was. Regardless, I donned the armour I wear before you today, and very quickly noticed just how much everyone seemed to like it.​

“Strange, no? Perhaps I shall elaborate on the reasoning; I mentioned that our concept of beauty had changed, but it has not died. Indeed; if beauty were to die, this would be a sad world indeed. No, we have simply come to admire that which still lies beyond our grasp. We admire talent, intelligence, power and what nature is still left... but we also admire humanity. Well, not humanity per se, but what it once was; vile, disgusting, arrogant and vain without a sense of its own beauty. Of course, they do not wish to return to this themselves; mon Dieu, non. 'Who would ever wish to return to imperfection,' the young doubtless ask themselves. But they enjoy seeing it in others. They so love to listen to me grovel at their feet about how miserable it is being so hideous, and just adore that feeling of piousness they embrace by stooping down from their lofty pedestals to lend themselves such a beleaguered soul as myself as I help myself to their pockets. They take as much pleasure in giving to one beneath them as I to from taking from those above me. Ah, such fools, the children of America are these days...​

“Hmm? Oh, not you, of course. You are almost as old as I, ma belle, are you not? I can see it in your eyes, clear as day. Oh, no, please; don't be embarrassed. There is nothing to be ashamed of, for you and I. We have seen more than these children around us ever have, and for it we are more beautiful than they ever can be.​

“Oh, dear; it seems the bar is closing. You wound not mind getting me a drink while I attend to the little boy's room, and then I shall walk you home? It is dangerous in New York these days, after all. For me? Ah, no; I lost my taste for alcohol quite some time ago. Please, just a glass of juice for me. Merci bien...”

Weapons: A con-man only needs his wits and his feet. If all else fails, cry.

Signature Move: A Number on the Pillow – A timeless 'vanishing act' Louis has refined into something closely resembling an art form. It is also an excellent method of obtaining a target's 'DNA sample', although perhaps it would be best to skip the exact details.​

(Further elaboration on Louis' job – although not in too much detail – and day-to-day activities in the RP. As for his history circa the 2200's... well, he was on an drug-fuelled binge at some stage, so I'm gonna use that ol' blanket 'Amnesia' excuse until I can think of something better. Remember, kids; say no to nano-drugs.)​

Parasite
To be honest I'm not even sure if I want anyone playing a Parasite yet. Mostly everything about them is a major spoiler... so I might just be controlling them myself for now. Essentially, they are a highly advanced bio-technological virus of nanomachines that possess living creatures. The possessed have enhanced strength, speed and reflexes. They have medium speed regenerative abilities. However, an infected will die if the body has been disconnected from the head. A lot of infected are unaccustomed to interpreting the world through our five senses, and so aren't too observant. Only a select few, presumably those who have been infected the longest, seem capable of sentient thought. It is not human. Possessed animals seem to be at a mental/instinctual struggle with the virus and are quite aggressive. Others simply die of aneurysms. The rare human has died in the same manner supposedly in resistance against the virus.

 

[frisson]

Weapons
Juice-powered weapons have pretty much replaced all your old weapons, though you get the occasional fanatic or wise-guy who likes to stick to his (classic) guns. Basically, take pre-existing models and replace ammunition with a shrapnel clip. Actual ammunition can be used if you like, but the general premise of Juice-guns is that it's powered by a Juice core that magnetically accelerates projectiles through the chamber at much greater speed and power than a regular gun and with less recoil. So a lot of the time the ammunition doesn't even matter as it tends to become a piping hot mess (lulz) when it's fired. Just so long as it fits into the shrapnel clip and is dense enough and not something stupid like paper or a flower.

Weapon Lock
All military-grade weapons and vehicles are tagged to a certain soldier or squad. This is done through a small identification chip embedded in the soldier's arm or hand that communicates wirelessly with the weapon or vehicle. Alternatively, a dna screening, where small pores on the weapon's grip pick up on things like sweat or skin tissue. They are inoperable otherwise. The bypass is simple enough, if you have the person's blood or some other sufficient dna sample that spans the rough circumference of a hand, or if you have the chip.

Templat e

Name: [realistic names]
Age: [due to medical advances the average man can now live to 140 and woman to 150]
Gender:
Alignment: [Alignment Information <- Click]
Nationality: [Korea is destroyed but you can be of Korean descent if you really want]
Faction: [UN, Imperial China, Finland, Russia, etc.]
Class:

Appearance:

Personality: [Try to give your characters negative attributes as well as those traits you'd secretly like to have yourself. At least one fear. Base it around your alignment if you really can't think of anything beyond "quiet, brooding, cool and stuff".]

Brief History: [Just to add some flesh. Note "brief"]

Weapon: [as we're still working weapons out, give some suggestions and I'll give you a "yes" or "no".]
Signature move: [if you like. I won't accept anything overpowered.]

Character Themesong:
Battle Themesong:

 

[Orion]

mad cunt? Finally posting in the roleplaying section? What the fuck is this?

((btw I'm intrigued))

 

[Ulti]

I know this is too good to be true.

 

[Nyx Winters]

woooooow this is so freaking awesome i will so watch out for this
can you save me a Front Line Leader position

 

[Ulti]

Out of all the roles, Civilian sounds more flexible to me. If this even gets off the ground, I'll whip up some quirky journalist who sticks her nose into everything and gets into all sorts of trouble.

 

[Orion]

woooooow this is so freaking awesome i will so watch out for this
can you save me a Front Line Leader position

You're going to have to prove you're deserving and/or qualified of such a position, just to let you know.

Also, dibs being a civie.

 

[Sepulchre]

Do you intend to put a limit on civilian entries? I only ask as I am also strongly considering joining as one of them. I've got an interesting idea for a character, too.

Does the RP have a set date yet, or are we still in the preliminary stages?

 

[Nyx Winters]

maybe ill make two one military guy of some sort and one infected military female

 

[frisson]

Out of all the roles, Civilian sounds more flexible to me. If this even gets off the ground, I'll whip up some quirky journalist who sticks her nose into everything and gets into all sorts of trouble.

To be honest I included civilian with you in mind.


And now that people are expressing interest in it... haha. Maybe I should just limit it to two people then. I need the other roles filled too.

 

[Wynn]

Holy shyte. I have a character that I keep somewhere in a .doc file on my laptop that could totally fit in this.

I'll try to dig it up and join if I can. I guess I'll tentatively aim for an Esper role.

 

[Tenyas]

This. Sounds epic. And really really thought out. owo May take up any position that somebody hasn't taken before me if this goes up officially.

Quick question though, are you able to come up with [to an extent] certain technologies that have been developed thanks to the juice power source? I was thinking of the military having much more advanced weaponry then we do now [something to do with armor, more efficient stealth vehicles, and maybe even guns that fire similarly to lazors] and maybe civilians having vehicles similar to some of the smart-cars that've been in development lately. Y'know, just to help with coming up with a better picture of what this time is like.

 

[frisson]

Yep that's fine, just run it by me first. It is 2216 after all, I guess.

 

[Eva]

Um, shouldn't this be in the OOC section? Just asking, 'cuz I'm definitely interested... ^^;;

Ooo Esper Telepathic.

 

[Kiba]

This is definitely interesting.

I think he wants to gauge who likes it and who doesn't before he posts it... maybe. ^^

 

[frisson]

Yeah I'll just ask to have it moved if it picks up.

 

[Shinra]

Name: Renn Gurski
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral good
Nationality: Canadian
Faction: United Nations
Class: Militant, Tactition

Appearance: Renn's Just your average canadian 17yr old, His Hair is a Dark brown and sometimes he puts in blue streaks, He usually wears black Bifocal glasses but when it comes down to fighting he puts on a pair of contacts that make his eyes look blue. His hair is mostly flat and his bangs cover his left eye and his hair is down to the bottom of his neck. His outfit is oldfashioned most times, Being a black t-shirt, Blue jeans, White socks and black sneaksers... and his skin is a soft peachy color. And at times he wears a red hooded jacket when it gets cold.

Personality: His personality is like a nerd's is when he's down, He doesn't want to display emotion at that time and he's antisocial... but he usually perks right up unless he has a good reason to stay mad. He's antisocial but not afraid to raise his hand and ask for help or to ask a question, He's intelligent, always keeping his ears open, and he has a bad sense of sarcasm if you get on his bad side. His view on the events at hand are quite unmeaningful but that could change gradually. But he also tries to keep a low profile so that he can do his job without being watched. He values privacy and his fear lies in when someone or himself gets mad. Because he's a slight pacifist

Brief History: He was born in Calgary, Alberta, Canada in 2199, And his childhood was quite insignificant until he turned 7, His Father was coming home from the lab early but he was infected by the parasite after spilling some
J U I C E on his hand before he left work. His mom Tina had sucessfully created the first Prototype J U I C E pistol. She sucessfully used it to kill him but she ended up dying herself as well... After those events had conspired, Renn was taken in by his grandmother and raised to his current age.

Weapon: J U I C E blade, a basic short sword that the frame and blade is made of Titanium and the handle is wrapped in Smart foam that comforts and contours his hand, usually held in his right hand. There is also a small Juice deposit within the handle that is used to power a laser blade Generator that gives his sword a blue edge of laser energy that is only used as a last resort. activated much like a lightsaber by igniting the juice to power the generator at the touch of a button.
Signature move: Hasn't discovered yet.

Character Themesong: YouTube - P.O.D - Youth Of A Nation Lyrics
Battle Themesong: YouTube - Buckethead-Final Wars

 

[frisson]

You might want to fix that post up a bit. I'll also be editing accepted bios into the front page. I'm not accepting bios at the moment. You can still post them but.

 

[Ulti]

I demand to be the only Civilian because I know anyone else will try to make a hot shot/cliche character. Besides, every other role should be filled first because they are more important :<