PLEASE READ THE FOREWORD
A Cyberpunk/Dystopian RP
Alright lets get the obvious out of the way... yes this rp idea properly belongs to Darkfey... unfortunately her daily life seems to have consumed her time away from RPGuild and thus she has not been able to post for quiet awhile. With that said she actually saw this coming potentially anyways, and as Co-gm at the time I was told if such a case were to happen to take complete control of the reigns since she wanted this rp to continue on.... original I was going to just let it freeze, and see if Darkfey would comeback soon, but its been about a month, and numerous members have begged for it to continue. As such in honor of them and Darkfey I have decided to continue the rp. Darkfey expressed a clearly resounding joy for this rp so hopefully I don't mess up TWT.
Roughly two hundred years ago the earth was struck by a comet. It crashed into the middle of the Simpson Desert in Australia, causing damage to the landscape, but doing little else. The true danger came after, for the comet brought with it an extraterrestrial chemical that had truly horrifying effects. The chemical spread through the Earth's lower atmosphere, in the form of a noxious gas, forming a chemical cloud that would eventually cover the entire planet. The cloud had a drastic effect on those who inhaled it, or consumed it through tainted water or food. They mutated and devolved, becoming barely human creatures full of violence and rage. As the chemical cloud expanded across the world, everyone scrambled to find a way to stop it. When no cure for this plague presented itself, the remains of humanity chose an escape. The richest people of the world pooled their fortunes to fund the creation of a city that could whether the coming storm. The floating city known as Relicum was built.
Those who had funded it were, naturally first on the list of Relicum's new residents and were joined by politicians and scientists, the best and brightest. However not just the elite were permitted onto this "Arc-city". Those who had actually built the city, putting their blood and sweat into its construction were allowed to live in the lower sections of the city. This was not an act of benevolence on the part of the elites who would rule Relicum, however, but an act of necessity. After all, someone had to maintain and work the machines, factories and purifiers that they would all depend on to survive. And so Relicum ascended into the heavens, high above the deadly gas cloud that went on to consume the entire world and all those left behind, but the different classes survived, the Upper lording over the Lower while the Lower toiled in the dark and the smog to support both themselves and the elite.
Not all of humanity united behind the Relicum Project however. After the comet crashed to Earth, bringing it's noxious chemical gas, most religions collapsed when the faithful's prayers for salvation went unanswered. In the place of organised religion, a cult arose. The Judicium Dei, a doomsday cult, believed the plague to be God's Judgment upon a sinful world. They worked to undermine the project in every way, becoming known as terrorists and mad men. Though they failed to stop Relicum from ascending, they did manage to get a force of saboteurs aboard. These men and women became sleeper agents, training their children and grandchildren and waiting for a sign for God that it was time for them to bring Relicum down.
A Note on Cybernetics: In the early years after Relicum's ascension scientists developed a safe method of using cybernetics to enhance the human body. This was reserved for the highest of the elite, and it also became standard practice for Peacekeepers to undergo cybernetic implantation to increase their abilities. Unlicensed Cybernetic Surgeons have since cropped up in the Sub-City. Under the employ of the Criminal Cartels, these surgeons supply artificial limbs and organs to sick and injured working class residents. However not many can afford the costs and, with no other choice, are forced into debt to the Cartels.
The shining neon playground of the rich and great, the upper districts of Relicum are filled with every creature comfort known to man. If it makes the lives of the residents easier, nicer and more enjoyable then it can be found in Upper Relicum. Entry into the upper districts is restricted. Residential Passports, held by only those wealthy or powerful enough to live in Upper Relicum, and Work Permits held by those residents of the lower levels who have permission to work in the upper districts, must be presented for inspection by Relicum Peacekeepers at checkpoints throughout the area. Those without the proper permits are immediately removed to the lower levels or incarcerated, depending on the arresting Peacekeeper's mood at the time.
A maze of factories, water purifiers, machines, pipes and exhaust vents, and filled with a haze of smog that the air cleaners could never hope to completely remove, the Sub-City is the ugly underbelly of Relicum. Home to the working classes, the entire district is under the strict supervision of the Relicum Peacekeepers, who keep a sharp eye out for any troublemakers among the lower class residents. Many of the Peacekeepers of this district, however, are corrupt, either abusing their power or living in the pockets of the criminal organisations that thrive in the bowels of the city.
The desiccated remains of planet Earth. Covered with barren wastelands and crumbling abandoned cities, the surface is a thoroughly inhospitable place. The tainted water and the Toxic air is the least of one's worries when exploring the ruins of Earth. The Creepers, hideous violent mutants, who were once human, thrive in the wastelands and prowl the cities in packs, feeding on each other and any wildlife that yet survive. Anyone hoping to travel down to the Surface should go prepared with gas masks, water and food rations, and some serious firepower, lest they become a meal for the crawling freaks that now call the surface of Earth home.
The Factions of Relicum
The rich and powerful of Relicum. The children and grandchildren of the wealthy patrons who funded the creation of Relicum and now live in perpetual luxury. They control the Peacekeepers, the police and military of Relicum, and use them to unsure that the lesser residents of the sky-city remain in their place.
The Working Class
The factory workers, technicians, janitors, shopkeepers of Relicum and their families. They are the backbone of Relicum and keep the city running, but live in abject poverty. Jammed into tiny homes, between the loud machinery of the city, struggling to eke out a living.
The Criminal Cartels
Where there are those who live in poverty, there will be those who take advantage of them. The Cartels of Relicum and their pet Peacekeepers are involved in all sorts of unsavory actions. Extortion, bribery, corruption, drug manufacturing and dealing, and even smuggling luxury goods from the upper districts.
The Judicium Dei
A doomsday cult of terrorists that plan to one day bring Relicum crashing down to Earth, bringing an end to the human race and completing what they see as God's Judgement upon a sinful and corrupt world. They are fanatical and have no fear of death. Occasionaly they like to remind the residents of Relicum that they are still there, enacting bombings and small scale attacks on random targets in both the Upper and Lower Districts. Lately, however, they have been mysteriously quiet. There are rumours that a new leader has taken over the entire organisation, and is planning something big.
- The minimum post length in this rp will be at least two paragraphs. This is flexible as I understand that sometimes creativity can be hard to come by.
- Try to post at least once a day, to keep things moving. If you are absent for too long I'll PM you to find out what's going on. If there is still no response, I may take temporary control of you character and delicately remove them from the story.
- For the time being, each player will be limited to one character each. This may change at a later date.
- Arguments in OOC should be kept short. If they drag on, get too heated, or spill into IC, I will intervene as GM. If anyone tries to carry on the fight after I've put a stop to it, you will be removed completely from the rp.
- Any OOC chat must stay in the OOC thread. If anyone posts OOC in the IC thread, you will be asked to edit it out.
- Characters should be original and well thought out, no Mary Sues or carbon copies of other people's characters(Unless plot related).
- Keep any IC combat realistic. Human's can't dodge bullets and survive being blown up or having their hearts ripped out.(Only exception to the bullet dodging was the one time I did it for plot purposes... Do as I say not as I do XD)
- Your characters can die in the rp. You are allowed to try your best to stay alive, but if you end up in a situation where there is no escape, you will die.
- Violence and swearing are permitted in this rp, but don't go overboard.
- Romance is permitted, but take any sexual scenes must fade out and be taken into PM.
- Do not control anyone else's character without their permission.
- Aside from the above rules, also obey the forum's rules.
Character Sheet Skeleton
*Remove items in brackets*
HTML Code:[B]Name:[/B] [B]Nicknames, if any:[/B] [B]Age:[/B] [B]Gender:[/B] [B]Height:[/B] [B]Weight:[/B] [B]Physique:[/B] (Slim, buff, petite, etc) [B]Appearance:[/B] (May use a picture or description) [B]Personality:[/B] [B]Brief History:[/B]
Name: Simon Carigan
Nicknames, if any:Carnage
Height: 6" Ft
Physique: Lean lightly muscular in appearance
Personality: Calculating yet not cold. When on the job as a peacekeeper he is always weary which is to be expected when your one of the few "good" cops outs there that isn't in anyone's wallet. Highly intelligent and resourceful in many ways, and doesn't like to deal with bullshit especially from his fellow peacekeepers. To criminals he is a nightmare never following much on the whole everyone deserves equal treatment. If he's after a small fry he is usually lenient, and for cases involving children thieves from the lower classes he will usually look the other way. Yet when he is after big game murderers, child abusers, rapists, the cartel etc..... anyone he considers a abomination to human life..... it becomes a whole new job, and usually those cases don't turn up a living body to be juried. Yet even with this hostile record he is still well respected by those of the lower class for its usually from that section the cases he takes come from. A fact that enrages and personally undermines his elite parents who he hasn't talked to in five years. When not at work he is usually pretty lax, and a bit lazy possible his way from recovering from a day of work.
Brief History: Born to the higher class that's what everyone considered to be grand luck being a child they got everything they wanted in life a safe home, good food, the luxuries the poor could never touch..... and for that Simon despised it so much that most of his life in his teen years were spent trying to help those less fortunate until his father would cut off each pathway he took expecting his son to take over the family business. Realizing he would never break free from his shackles unless he completely broke ties with his parents at the age of eighteen he left home and joined the peacekeepers one who was tasked with helping those who couldn't protect themselves.... unfortunately just like at home most of what sounded grand was really acidic to the touch a corrupt world controlled by a foolish class of humans. It was on this realization Simon swore he would do all possible to protect those less fortunate from those who would take advantage and abuse them.... going as far to completely sacrifice his own left arm which is now a cybernetic limb paid off by his mother who wouldn't dare to see her child suffer so much. The case of this lost limb was never revealed to the public being quiet the close knit case Simon shouldn't even had been involved in. All anyone ever got out of it was it had something to do with a girl named Clair.
Since then a few years later Simon still patrols the streets given the name Carnage by the under world most of which would like to see him dead or in their pockets.
Name: Mina Scrios
Nicknames, if any: Glitch
Physique: Slim and atlethic, but with some curves.
Mina has long, flowy red hair that runs down to her thighs. She is often seen in a school uniform, like the one above, but is also seen in classy dresses and at times baggy clothes.
She was raised as an Elite, so she is properly dressed most of the time, but when she goes out "incognito" she simply wears her loose clothes and her hair is a shaggy mess, which she hides under a hood.
Mina is a very worried person. She was raised as an elite, but doesn't share their opinion or way to treat the workers of the ship. She is kind to people of any social class, as long as they are friendly.
Brief History: Raised as an elite, Mina had everything in the world, well what was left of it, if she merely asked for it. She was told the workers were lower than her, worth even less than the garbage on the street and for a long time Mina believed this fact. Eventually Mina grew up and interacted with some workers at her home. She figured out they were normal, friendly people, not the low-lives her parents and teachers had said they were. Mina found out how the workers lived and completely disagreed. She started to hate her parents and all the other snobby people in the world she lives in. These days she tried her hardest to help the workers by "donating" them food in secrecy.
Personality: Toys personality is programed to be friendly and sexy.
When she was freed she was given the option of it's removal but abstained claiming without it she was not herself.
( It can be changed by the simple installation of a new personality chip by the unscrupulous)
Brief History: Nothing is known of Toy's previous life because all her records where purportedly lost due to a Netdiver attack on Biotechnica's data citadel.
What is know about her is the last three years of her existence.
She appeared first as the companion of Lord W. Sanders a highly placed member of Biotechnica's board of directors. She was a show piece of the company's work in full body Bio/Cyber modification.
She was more than a sex model even though she is well known for her skills in that area. Her voice is tuned to a level of perfection that is lacking in even the newer models of Playbeings. Her skill as a dancer is equally as perfected by the use of special joints throughout her body and a special dance chip that contains the largest on board memory of dance styles outside of a cultural data bank.
Two years ago Biotechnica began to falter due to Netdiver attacks and the exposure of several scandals that allowed the hostile takeover of the company's assets.
Lord Sanders in a final gesture of kindness to the creature he'd so used granted Toy full ownership of her body an programs.
Several companies did try to gain ownership of her but were defeated in court by her defense lawyers supplied by Lord Sander's Estate.
Now an entertainer Toy works the Between clubs that cater to the low caste with money an the high caste who want to safely slum.
They are the true life of the party. The ”Erotic, Exotic” is always a welcome and popular guest.
And what makes a Playbeing different from a normal exotic? Those ”Special extras under the hood” so to speak. Lose your inhibitions, become a Master (or Mistress) of the arts of the arts of physical pleasure. Who needs drugs or pleasure-center wire heading?
Please yourself and others with just a few ”enhancements”
The rumors of persons being converted to exotic Playbeings against their will by Biotechnica are false; as can be seen below, Biotechnica requires a legal waiver indicating intent and protecting against unfounded legal action before allowing any person to purchase a Playbeing accessory package for installation.
Any proven incidents of ”Playbeing manufacture” are due to unscrupulous agencies not connected to Biotechnica.
Biotechnica refuses to install the Playbeing package in any person without a signed waiver indicating that the applicant wishes to become a Playbeing and absolves Biotechnica of all legal responsibility for any and all psychological aberrations or problems arising from the Playbeing package.
The Playbeing package is usually added to an existing exotic conversion but can be purchased without exotic conversions.
Playbeings usually have their Attractiveness raised by the finest plastic surgery available.
The Package includes a Mr. Stud/Lady Midnight implant
(the add for the Mr. Stud package reads ”All night, every night an they'll never know the difference” or (The Lady Midnight package)
Tactile boost hard wired into sexual implant.
Chipware socket with the ”Maximum Lover” chip and a Behavior chip, specific behavioral slant is chosen by the user to correspond to his/her emotional patterns and wishes, in any case the chips stimulates the libido; plus a contraceptive implant.
Optionally the pleasure impulses from sexual activity can be fed to the tactile boost.
This can lead to addiction to such activity as well as nervous or physical overload
]Name: Emma Peal
Nicknames, if any: Joan of Arc, Robobitch and Ice Queen
Height: 6' 3"
Weight: 215 pnds
Personality: Emma is one of the few members of the Peace Keeper corps that is know to be incorruptible. She is dedicated to the law without reservation or concern. She cannot be bribed, coerced or threatened to take any tack outside a rigid interpretation of the law to it's letter.
On or off duty she is the law and it's most feared champion.
She is cold hearted in the execution of her duties performing all with the utmost efficiency.
Know one knows if she has any life outside of her duties and she never speaks of what she does when she is.
Brief History: Emma Peal was born into this foul world during the fire fight that killed her mother who was working for the minister of justice.
The minister feeling some responsibility for the child of his former maid took possession of her. He saw to it that Emma receive an education consummate with that of any girl of Elite status under a controlled condition..
She was prepped by the minister and her data teachers to be honest, strong, fearless, loyal, dedicated and untouchable.
She was placed at the age of 16 in the Peace Keeper's academy where she scored the highest ever for an unaugmented cadet even surpassing many augmented..
She graduated the Academy an was then sent to law school where she was taught by her surrogate father. When she graduated Law school Emma once again scored at the highest levels.
At 19 years of age Emma was ready to fit into the minister's plan. She was to be the first of many officers taken as orphans and trained as early as possible to be what the minister saw Peace 'keepers as."Paragons of the Law"
Emma served her rookie year as a corrections officer at the Tombs max. It was while there that she uncovered a corrupt system that allowed the cartel bosses the ability to live in luxury and even continue the operations of their various gangs. She placed her superior and the warden under arrest and provided evidence of theirs and other officers crimes.
She by all right should have been recognized as a hero but instead was under a hit order by the cartels and ministers who feared and hated her.
Augmented by her sponsor Emma proved a difficult target for her enemies so they went after him instead.
Death finally claimed the old minister but not his protege Emma. She now works under the protection of the three most trusted ministers of the city and even though she is relegated to status of being the City Death Warrant Officer
Full skeletal augment
Skull armor plated.
Biotechnica nano nerve replacement (3x reaction, run 45mph)
Full muscle aug myamar (Lift 2,600 pnds)
IR:UV:Thermal:Telescopic 20x4:Microscopic 1,000x1:Biotechnica Cookie cutter fire control link
Noise filtering and dampening:Ultra sonic: Hyper sonic:Sonar
Chemical analyzer 1:1,000,000
(Lightly armored skin)
Emma is the extreme an augment nearly a full body conversion, her cost astronomical and only achievable by the government.
A good portion of her Technology is classified and black tech
Nicknames, if any: Kuro ōkami(Black Wolf)
Weight: 202 lbs
Physique: Athletic and muscular build
Appearance:Something no one will get the luxury of seeing unless he is willing or dead. Cassius is a caucasian male that has short, white hair which is well maintained and kept in a short military style cut. His silvery-white eyes have an odd eye-shine quality to them, allowing him to see in dark with no difficulty whatsoever.
-The suit's density provides him safety from most means of killing(Bullets and Blades, depending on their metal type)
-The helm provides a heads up display allowing thermal and infrared vision as well as a communication device.
-A built-in re-breather for hostile environments(Lasts up to 3 hours when active)
-A voice modulator that alters his voice, making it sound very metallic, I'll use
-Cassius holsters twin 357. Magnum Diamondback revolvers
-Cassius has single katana sheathed on his back
-Cassius also uses an SMG which he calls "Whispering Death" because of it's whisper-like sound when a round is fired. The weapon has a holgraphic sight that magnifies if necessary. A precision stock, extended mag holding armor piercing rounds, and a silencer. (To be obtained later)
Personality: Cassius is a man who seeks to help others, at times he'll even disregard his own well-being for someone else. (As an example, he'd give someone the last of his water if they were truly in need rather than keep it for himself) When dealing with the questionable types of people he is more stern and ruthless, often killing the criminal types outright rather than letting them plead for mercy or run. He does not like 'wasting his words' when he does speak it is often a few words at a time. He always enjoys a challenge to his skills, even if he doesn't seem to be winning.
Brief History: Cassius was born in Sub-City where at age most of his life was spent fighting or stealing at age 7-15. Through some time he got mixed up with the criminal cartels of the city at age 16, doing whatever jobs they offered just for the money. Through questionable deeds at age 18 regarding the criminal cartels he acquired a nice versatile set of gear. After which he saw for the first time the criminal cartel and their methods in obtaining information. In the midst of the torture, Cassius drew his weapon and fired, killing the interrogator, before anyone had truly grasped what happened he ran and went into hiding. In those three years he trained and focused, preparing himself to one day come out of hiding, only knowing that the cartels would be breathing down his neck. At age of 21 he stepped out of hiding, ready to face what he had once been apart of and destroy it.
Name: Katherine Gaugen
Nicknames, if any: Schist
Height: 5' 9"
Physique: Slim waist and almost lanky, long legs; buff upper body due to her work; everything else as pictured, except for a trust toolbelt that never leaves her side.
Personality: She can appear stoic and bored, and often finds herself dreaming of a more fantastic life. While she claims to despise the "elites", and stands behind her kind 100%, she often finds herself dreaming of what might be above the crummy world that she is imprisoned to. She has never been above the sub-city(or below it), and this fact bothers her greatly- she wants to know everything there is to know. She can be extremely temperamental, but generally does not engage in fights; She simply acts as if anything thrown at her doesn't bother her at all. Truthfully, she appears a lot stronger and more confident than she actually is, sometimes giving her an annoying arrogant, sarcastic, and cocky appearance.
Brief History: Katherine "Schist" Gaugen is the daughter of Don Gaugen and his wife, Sally. Her father, as soon as he realized what is going on in the world, instantly threw himself at the opportunity of being able to save his growing family from what he saw going on around him. Everyday, he worked on the floating city, and sometimes wouldn't come home to his pregnant wife for days. The work and loneliness changed him from the happy-go-lucky, warm man he once was to a reserved and quiet one. When his daughter was finally born, now, one could say "safe" in the floating city, he taught her everything he knew, taking her along to work at his side. He wanted to make sure that she would never be in a situation like so many of his friends and family members, left behind due to their "uselessness" to die on the surface.
While Schist appreciates everything he's done to allow her and her mother to survive, she cannot help but dream of a life past the oily, grueling work of her everyday one. However, Schist is terrified of anything happening to her aging parents and sacrifices her dreams to make sure they are safe and taken care of by never straying far from their small home.
Nicknames, if any: The Soul Collector
Weight: 146 lb
Physique: Athletic bombshell
Personality: A dark complex woman, she obviously has a lot of issues. Not that she’d discuss them with anyone. She doesn’t trust any body. She’d sooner slit your gut and watch as it spill on the floor than trust you by your word. After all blood and pain are more honest than any low life she’s ever met. As for anything sexual, she’ll take on her pets every now and again, but she’ll either get bored or break them. Of course disposing of them is pretty fun too... Yeah, so she’s twisted and cold-heart and cruel and blah blah blah, but she makes more money in one day than most would in their entire lifetimes. That’s the perk of being pure evil.
Brief History: The youngest daughter of an old perverted politician, her life was just as dark and twisted as she was. She was the pretty little pet of screwed up old men who wanted to close deals and the bargaining chip against some gang leader. Of course once she got into the dark world of dealing with sins and evils, she master them quickly, getting what she wanted fast and easy. But nothing was ever enough. Like a shadow swallowing the world against the receding sun, she was devoured by the need for more. More money, more underlings, more power. Her stupid husband was easily dealt with and taking his place was a simple task. After all, once you made an example of him before his generals it was a piece of cake. No one wants to go against an insane woman with the power to rip your lungs out from between your ribs. But it's still not enough. She won't be satisfied till every thing is dark and under her thumb.
Name: Lillian P. Omitesh
Nicknames, if any: Lill
Weight: 136 lb
Physique: strong average
Personality: She's a cheerful little sprit, always trying to make the best of a horrible situation. Socially she isn't too bright and a bit naive, but when it comes to machine she's your gal. Some might even call her a bit of genius. Of course she'd a got a wicked temper and loves to hit people, whether mad or just in affection. She's never had much cause to hate anyone, expect bullies of course. But if you do find yourself on her bad side, you better watch out. She can make your life a friggin' hell.
Brief History: She grew up in a small apartment with six brothers and sisters (that would be four older brothers and two younger sisters) and too many of her mother's boyfriends (that would be fourteen in total). Who the hell knows who her father is, except that he's got to be some sort of genius, cause she sure don't get it from her mum. Her brothers practically raised her, sheltering her, looking after her. She was brought up to be strong and willful, even if it does get on people's nerves a bit. But then again she's so good at what she does people tend to let it slide and the freebies of her job are well put to use. Hell Sub City ain't so bad if you like machines and you can hold your own against muggers.[/QUOTE]
Name: Gideon Ferris
Nicknames, if any: "Mailman"
Weight: 140 lbs
Physique: Decently built, not particularly muscular, but not a complete bag of bones either.
Personality: Calm and serene, proper control of presentation and hiding true emotions/feelings is Gideon's constant goal. He has a work hard, play hard mentality and spends his time maintaining that balance within himself. It takes a lot to get him scared or angry, and even then he tries to control his emotions as much as possible.
Brief History: Born in the Sub-City as the son of a Prostitute, Crime had been Gideon's life from the beginning. Thugs, Gangsters, Drug Dealers, Pimps, and Smugglers were whom he grew up around, learning how to survive in the hostile and cruel streets of the fetid bowls of Relicum. From the age of seven he was working in a backroom chem lab for one of the many Drug Dealers in the city, organizing chemicals which could kill him or render him a babbling fool for the rest of his life if he came into contact with too much of them, and organizing orders that came in from the various "Postmen". Despite the Cartels having most of the Peacekeepers in the Sub-City in their pockets, there was always the risk of running into the one patrol that weren't so easily corruptible, therefore steps had to be taken to hide their criminal activities from plain sight. Not to mention the fact that crime is as competitive as any other business, and one leaked word heard by a Runner could lead to the "Postman" ending up taking an unexpected fall and his package being seized and delivered by the rival. Gideon learned the rules of subtlety and secrecy in his business quite quickly, important skills for any criminal in this city to have.
By the time he was 15, Gideon had become curious, or foolish enough one might say, to approach the Cartels for a job. He had grown tired of scratching about in the Sub-City for enough money to live, and knew that the Cartels could be his trip up to Upper Relicum. He wasn't foolish enough to expect the Cartels to just hand him a job though, which they weren't when he approached one of their agents in one of the various bars they frequent to share information among their agents, and conduct business with those who desired it. They decided to put him through a test, he would perform one particularly difficult collection job from a "Post Delivery", and if he succeeded, he would be in. They gave him the address of a Sub-City Dwelling, the contract with the amount that was due to them, and wished him luck. So, with only a knife and his wits, Gideon scoped out the dwelling, the one who owed the Cartels was a small-time gangster, but he had more than a few buddies all carrying some pretty decent guns. Swallowing his fear, he knocked on the door and confronted the Gangster who was irate to say the least. Keeping calm and cold in his words, he demanded the man pay what he owed the Cartels, the Gangster simply laughed that these super-criminals would send a boy to do their work, and all of his friends in the room followed suit. Thinking fast, and seeing a pistol loosely hanging in the Gangster's pants, he whipped the but of it out and fired several shots at the Gangster's pals in the room, only killing one by a lucky shot that passed through one of their heads but wounding the others with glancing shots. All laughter was cut short by cries of pain and fear as the Gangster quickly brought up his account information and transferred the fund he owed to the Cartels, his hands in the air. Gideon kept the man's gun and left the building quickly, high on a adrenaline and in shock that he had actually had the balls to pull a move like that.
Impressed that he actually returned alive and successful, the Cartels took Gideon on as a Postman and Collector, delivering drugs, illegal goods, information, whatever the customer desired, and then collecting what was owed to them. Either through cash if they were able and willing to pay, or through all of their possessions if they were unable or unwilling to pay. Answering to a Boss, working with a partner, and taking a cut of every delivery, he started racking up cash and respect within the Cartel fast. Now, with over several hundreds of successful deliveries under his belt in both the Sub-City and Upper Relicum, he was living a good life, and the Cartels protected their own. Even when a job that went terribl wrong with the customer choosing to blow up his apartment rather than pay cost him the loss of both of his arms, the Cartels paid for him to have new augmetic ones, for the amount of money he had made them and would make them was worth the cost. Gideon never fooled himself though, for he knew that if he faltered and stopped being successful in making money for the Bosses, they would drop him just as easily as anyone else they had over the centuries.
//I took some liberty with the setting and coming up with some terms, just let me know if I need to change anything for canon's sake.
Name: Elysia Madrano
Nicknames, if any: Ellie, The Runner
Age: 19 years
Height: 5 foot 4.5 inches
Weight: 145 lbs
Physique: While relatively short, she has strengthened her body with some hardened muscle.
Appearance: ( http://www.jappleng.com/jSpot/Sekai/...-sky-i3021.jpg ) Elysia has, if anything, the looks of an average young-adult female. Her eyes are a soft brown and her hair is the same matching color. Her hair is often worn down, and hangs down to her shoulders, unless tied up with a simple cloth bow.
Personality: In simple, she is easy to miss. She fitted her occupation well. Eyes slid past her easily, but to the people she was working for, her charming and clever personality made her the perfect runner. Lit just right, her anger could be unmatched, but her methodical thinking and put-together personality prevent her from undesirable actions. To those who know her outside of her profession, her heart has room for everyone and is willing to sacrifice everything for family to help them survive.
Brief History: It wasn't that her family was rich and well to-do, they had enough food to survive and life was livable. Their house was cramped with five people, but they made it work. Her father worked as a high ranking technician and her mother owned a small shop in town. A night came where the smugglers and thieves broke into the small family store, murdered the owner, and took all they could. Her father was left a single parent of three and his mental state slowly declined until he could no longer work. This left Elysia, the eldest of the three children, to venture out into the Sub-City and find work wherever she could. For months she would switch from one meager job to the next, in hopes to provide food for her family.
Yet, a man came to her door one day and offered her a job no one else would take. Unknowingly, she took it with eager. Her title was, 'The Runner' and her job was to run private messages back and forth between smuggling businesses and dealers to their respondents. It was difficult and dangerous work, but the pay was fair and she was able to put a meal on the table for her family, so she kept with it
Name: Sasha Tsai
Nicknames: No specific nicknames, though Sasha possesses a handful of false identities.
Weight: 195 lbs
- Augmented dermal subdermal layering.
- Muscle and skeletal augmentations.
- Shade combat and tactical program operating beneath the surface and artificial intelligence puppet sock
- Entopic, augmented reality, telescopic optical enhancements
- Encrypted communication equipment
- Mnemonic augmentation
- Clean metabolism
- Medical/repair machine hives for minor damage
- Enhanced smell and hearing
- Enhanced mental speed
- Eel-ware shock implants
Personality: Sasha is a quick witted and generally friendly individual. Of course, at the same time he’s just as devious and prone to taking every advantage he can in a situation at the cost of expendable assets for the sake of an operation. While if asked he’d give a different, he does have principles and a sense of right and wrong. The only question is whether or not he minds crossing that line in order to complete a task or follow through with a goal. More often than not, he chooses to act in a way that’d compromise his principles and get upset with himself later. His cunning has the tendency to cause situations to go his way, preferably nonviolent, but if it the situation does go violent then he prefers to let another get their hands dirty.
“The first part of my life, Act I of this little farce, was three parts prosaic bull and one part thrill ride. I lived for the latter. Where I come from, that’s not an exciting tale and if you want the exacts start with a search of my given name within a few moments there it will be. To look at me now you’d never guess once upon a time I was an urchin in Sub-City. My mother and father weren’t the romanticized paragons of the working class you sometimes see in drama vids, the hardworking, morally upstanding, salt-of-the earth, doe-eyed dupes who keep the world functioning so the upper crust can languish in everlasting bliss, but the other kind. The sort who’ll smile at you one moment and gut you the next, rip out anything shiny, and let you bleed out while they scamper off with their meal ticket. Ah, that makes them sound like murder happy junkies. My mother was a genuine surgeon, properly trained by the cartel to do top notch illegal surgery and my father was her acquisitions specialist. Maybe my youth was only boring because I was used to it. You’d probably find it a real trip. You had to be smart when working acquisitions and when I was old enough, my father showed me the ropes and taught me may tricks to spoof security systems. By the time I’d learned how much fun fornication could be, I’d a small gang following my leads. I’d work out a plan to beat security and walk away clean and we’d go in, execute it, and make enough money that our stupid teenage brains imagined we’d be living topside within a year. Naturally, we screwed up shortly after that. That job, I don’t remember it too well because of what went down, but I remember the red glow of a dozen photoreceptors on the dome of a slender, multi-legged machine, a quick, intense pain at my throat, and seeing my body on the floor about five feet away minus my head. After that, a tingling, fuzzy, almost electric sensation, and the kind of like the sound you hear when you stick metal into a quality corrosive or disassembler.”
“My patron, Sejko, filled me in on the details after I had my new body. Technically, I’m genuinely dead. Removed from my body, my head was placed in a sack on the machine’s belly and within thirty seconds mapped, stored, and eaten by bugs. I’m told the machine kept a perfect or as close as you can get to perfect map of my head in its memory until one of Sejko’s teams captured the thing and brought home to elite’s home laboratory for study. What a find. My boss isn’t one to turn down the chance to further scientific or technological advancements or someone who much cares to turn down the opportunity to develop an asset. So here I am, fully synthetic with semi-organic systems mimicking biological processes. Food, drink, and, ah, fornication all intact and still part of my daily life. My only complaint comes down to my skin. With clothes, I look as human as the next person on the street, maybe more so if he’s got cables dangling from ports on his neck and LEDs on his forehead, but I’m cold and there’s a metallic texture to it detectable only by touch. The way he laid it out to me I’d been singled out from about two dozen souls the headhunter had scanned and eaten because my personality and skills. Sejko required an asset in Sub-City after his present proxy had been compromised with prejudice by the cartel. I was born in Sub-City so I can go on for days about injustice, but I also learned quite a bit about what your priorities ought to be. Money’s a means to an end, not the end itself, and it isn’t even about the end. When it’s all over, that’s it. I hope you had a good time because I know that I intend to. And what Sejko was offering me was a chance to play the game. Everyone sees thriller vids growing up chalk full of action, tension, and intrigue. It just so happened I had a talent for it and an in. Like hell I was going to pass that up.”
“What I’ve done since my boss hired me on is pretty simple and pretty complex. The complex part was setting up layers between myself and my employer to keep my actions as his proxy private. Actually, that part wasn’t too hard; it just involved a lot of spoofing equipment, bribery, and technical knowhow. What took work was sinking my claws into Sub-City, developing the right friendships, cultivating dependencies, and generally working jobs, sometimes succeeding and, as was often the case in the early days, sometimes failing. I just had to make sure when the call came down from Sejko I had the right connections to pull the job off and keep things going his way. The whole thing was a blast. My operation, Kohning Tsai Consulting , employees about nine people and most of them work independently or with one of our three tech wizards. My partner, Kohning, isn’t a ghost like me but we both have a similar background and personal relationship with Sejko. Ah, you might be wondering, logically so, what sort of measures my boss takes to keep me from running wild with his expensive synthetic body. For one, he’s earned my loyalty bringing me back from the dead so I’m not inclined to betray him. He’s the only person I can turn to any longer since first life is pretty much gone, and now that I’m in the business I recognize what a wonderful emotional control mechanism he’s put over me. I’ve done it myself to a couple my own of Sub-City assets. Second, I’m not the only one in my head. Talking, negotiating, lying, slipping away unseen, and athletics are all things I do well but in a situation where there’s gunplay, I’m not the one you want to tag along. That’s one reason why Shade comes with me. It’s an intelligent program running beneath my subconscious that comes to the surface when I call it. Normally, I only give it control of my gun arm and it feeds tactical data into my head at the speed of thought where I can decide whether or not to follow through. I’m pretty sure Shade could take full control of my body if I allowed it, and if that’s true then it’s not a big step to the program taking control if I ever piss off my boss."
Name: Nev Karvil
Nicknames: Dust, Reaper, EC-501
Height: 5 feet 7 inches
Weight: 140 pounds
Physique: Nev has a very slim, yet muscular body, particularly her arms. She has pale blue eyes and greyish blond hair. Oh, and she has an extra pair of arms sprouting out of her back (See pic, ignore that extra lower set). As seen in the picture, the extra hands aren't like normal hands. They can grip items, but the fingers are seemingly fused together except the thumb and index finger. This extra pair of arms though is usually concealed behind her cloak. The weird chemical burns go from her face to where the arms sprout from.
Remember the lowest pair is not included
For the most part she is seemingly quiet and obedient around her owners and clients. No emotion, no opinion, just "yes" or "Understood" Though even after being essentially a slave to her Cartel for years, she has another side that hasn't been seen by many. On the inside, Nev longs to break free, to stop this cycle of killing she has to go through seemingly every day in her life. She has a much louder, expressive side deep down in her, waiting to break out at the right moment.
As the clouds of toxic gas churned below the great flying city of Relicum, there were scientists that were fascinated by the mutants below. They sent out expedition parties to the surface, collected samples, and even a few live specimens were captured. DNA harvested, studied, and put through multiple tests, they thought they might have just stumbled upon the holy grail of the century, an immunity to the gas. Of course, they had yet to test on any live humans, but as luck would have it, there were plenty of lower class citizens that would willingly volunteer to earn a large sum of money. Though a random factory worker couldn't do, no, they needed a young child of sorts, so that they could study more long term effects of this potential cure. Nev, having the worlds greatest parents, was essentially sold to the scientists at the labs in order to pay off their debts to the Cartel. She, along with a few other subjects, were injected with the "cure"....
For days, the children writhed in immense pain as this cure dramatically began to alter their body. Some had insane rapidly growing tumors of flesh that consumed the body, others mutated horrendously, to a point were they could no longer function. In Nev's case, he skin around her back and near her eyes turned a disgusting red and two new arms slowly formed from her back. Fearing that their failure could possibly ruin their scientific careers, the researchers hushed it up, dumping whatever remaining kids back into the lower levels, leaving them homeless and alone. Nev also notice how hard it was to breath now in the lower levels. Apparently her lungs became very sensitive to the air quality, thus the constant smog severely crippled her. During all of this, the Crime Cartels kept a watchful eye on the project, and quickly snatched up Nev, seeing a potential use for her.
The Cartel essentially made her their hitman and slave. They provided her with a high quality air filter so that she could breath while she provides them her unique abilities and skills to help quietly tie up loose ends, whoever they may be. They conditioned her to be the perfect, obedient killer, through constant training and dehumanization. She was never called by her name, only EC-501, her initial experiment label. She learned to use her new and odd pair of arms to her advantage, like steadying her real arms for deadly accuracy, or having an advantage in close quarters combat. Though throughout all of this, she was labeled as a non-human, scum, a freak, you name it. For the rumors, she is but a whisper, a ghosts, a boogieman for those who have enemies with the Cartel. Yet through all of this, she still kept her consciousness, her self awareness, and even some of her sanity. Now she secretly plots to break away from the Cartel, hopefully finding a life with more freedom.
Note: GM is myself until Darkfey returns to reclaim this rp or states other wise. CO-GM's are LovelyAnastasia & Rumiko(yep that's how badass this rp is XD)