EnergyWhale

Dead Cruise

The mechanic's question stumped Jimmy for a moment; he had assumed that everyone was infected by an illness of some sort. Why? Well, for one there was a nasty bug going about the passangers on the Hippo's first day at sea. Secondly, the crazies seemed feverish- perhaps even delirious. It had to of been some kind of biological illness, to Jimmy's mind. Though what caused it, was beyond him. "Well," Jimmy said finally, "by the amount of blood I'm covered in, I woulda thought I'd of savaged your face by now and eaten your balls." The former sushi chef looked about. The area outside of Sheldon's Sushi bar was a kind of mini-mall, with a linear foyer lined with various small shops and bars. The "West Gate", it was called. Everything seemed eerily quiet, and this made Jimmy nervous. No bodies, no mess. Just quietness. "I'm going to the bridge," Jimmy said quietly, keeping his voice down. "You're welcome to come with me. I think we'll stop by security on our way, see if we can't kill that moron playing with the ship's systems." He stopped and pointed over at a compacted Sports 4 U store. "We'll find weapons in there, nothing much, but I reckon they'll have a golf club or a croquet mallet."

Dead Cruise

Considering how morality has flown out the window and people are suddenly pro fighters and killing everybody in sight with ease and without a scratch, the realism of a katana seems pretty far-fetched in this game. I was taken aback by a blacksmith shop in a cruise ship. I really should have added a dragon.

@Fillet

Yah I'll be honest, this RP was never meant to follow set standards. I just wanted to be able to write, without having to worry much about what I was putting. It's good practice, for me anyways. I'd of placed this in casual otherwise. But that said, a blacksmith shop is a stupid idea, and so is a samurai sword. I mean a blacksmith shop? What even is that? Shouldn't it just be blacksmith? And a Samurai sword!? Of course, we're on an RP site so naturally everything has to be Japanese. Looks like this big fellah is winding down now, probably reaching its twilight period. It's been a good few days, and I'll continue to post until it fully dies out, as is my custom. Anyways, back to my point. No blacksmith, no samurai swords. Use your noggin and come up with something else.

Dead Cruise

Okay, can I get an update on all the stories thus far? I know mine. (Devon and Stevie are hopefully teaming up to collect the ship's gold and Stevie basically wants the ship itself.) But now the stories are getting jumbled together in a strange way and I can't even figure out who's involved in my story and who's with or against my character. (Basically User, who I thought at first wasn't a legit character, but rather just a catalyst for stuff to be happening.) So can we get an update?

@Bob

Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, I can get you one, but it'll have to be tomorrow when I've got time to sit down and write everything down. What I can tell you is, is that myself, Fillet, Mchaggis and Jack are in the Sushi bar. User is trolling from the server room. I think two peeps are hanging out in another bar somewhere? Then there's some casino shiz going down, which I think is where your character is? I do read all the posts, but tracking this many characters gets difficult for one person. My advice would be that unless someone actually walks into your little side plot - ignore them - but if you want to walk into theirs, read their last few posts to understand where they are and why. It's easier than it looks, and kinda the reason I imposed a 300 word limit on posts. :)

Doom: Dead Squad (Closed)

UMM Yeah where can I sign up?

@Snarfulblast

Awesome, I can tell you're a man/woman of great taste. Well, we'll see if there's any other people with similar greatness of tastes (I'd say a minimum of 4, including you) and then I'll get the OOC up.

Doom: Dead Squad (Closed)

Just gonna throw this in here, like a slab of raw meat into a bucket of piranhas.

Doom: Dead Squad

A fast, furious and bloody roleplay based on the Doom universe

TL;DR Summary:

• Players are space marines (not the 40k kind) who have been put on penal duties on Mars.
• Mars has two moons, Phobos and Deimos, which are the subject of space travel research.
• Experiments go wrong. Communication is lost with both moons.
• Mars' battalion, including the players, muster and go to Phobos. Players are left to secure the perimeter, whilst the battalion goes into the base. Battalion gets deaded.
• Players can't get off the moon, decide to proceed through the base on a suicide bid.
• Much gore and horror is about to commence.

Resources

Doom's Monsters - Reference if you're unsure what kind of stuff we're fighting. Depending on where we are, and how early we're into the RP, you might want to hold back on some of the monsters further down the list. Doom's Maps - For the first episode. The list there is in chronological order. Please note that we will not be using the maps blue prints, because where's the fun in that? But rather, using the details to help create the overall narrative backdrop if we wish to. Doom's Weapons - As with the monsters, refrain from acquiring the real hefty weaponry if possible until the RP has made a little headway.

Full Story

Story

This is heavily borrowed, and slightly modified, from the original Doom story found in the game’s manual. I’ve made a few alterations to change the focus from one individual, to a squad. THE STORY SO FAR You're a marine, one of Earth's toughest, hardened in combat and trained for action. Three years ago, during a riot in Washington, D.C, your squad out right refused orders to fire upon civilians. All of you were promptly charged for dereliction of duty and court martialled. After a lengthy court process, it was finally agreed that rather than face the firing squad, you and your fellow squad members would be reassigned to indefinite penal duties on Mars, home of the Union Aerospace Corporation. The UAC is a multi-planetary conglomerate with radioactive waste facilities on Mars and its two moons, Phobos and Deimos. With no action for fifty million miles, your days consist of clearing sanitation systems of enlarged rats, and cleaning weapons that haven’t been fired for decades. It’s no life for some of Earth’s toughest warriors. For the last four years the military, UAC's biggest supplier, has used the remote facilities on Phobos and Deimos to conduct various secret projects, including research on inter-dimensional space travel. So far they have been able to open gateways between Phobos and Deimos, throwing a few gadgets into one and watching them come out the other. Recently however, the Gateways have grown dangerously unstable. Military "volunteers" entering them have either disappeared or been stricken with a strange form of insanity--babbling vulgarities, bludgeoning anything that breathes, and finally suffering an untimely death of full-body explosion. Matching heads with torsos to send home to the folks became a full-time job. Latest military reports state that the research is suffering a small set-back, but everything is under control. A few hours ago, Mars received a garbled message from Phobos. "We require immediate military support. Something fraggin' evil is coming out of the Gateways! Computer systems have gone berserk!" The rest was incoherent. Soon afterwards, Deimos simply vanished from the sky. Since then, attempts to establish contact with either moon have been unsuccessful. Your battalion, the only combat formation for fifty million miles was sent up pronto to Phobos. Your squad, consisting of the very same soldiers who refused to fire on civilians those few fateful years ago, were ordered to secure the perimeter of the base while the rest of the battalion went inside. For several hours, your radios picked up the sounds of combat: guns firing, men yelling orders, screams, bones cracking, then finally, silence. Seems your buddies are dead. IT'S UP TO YOU Things aren't looking too good. You'll never navigate off the planet on your own. Plus, all the heavy weapons have been taken by the assault teams leaving your squad with only pistols. If only you could get your hands around a few plasma rifles or even some shotguns, you could take a few down on your way out. Whatever killed your buddies deserves a couple of pellets in the forehead. Securing your helmets, your squad exits the landing pod. Hopefully you can find more substantial firepower somewhere within the station. As your squad walks through the main entrance of the base, you hear animal-like growls echoing throughout the distant corridors. They know you're here. There's no turning back now.

Rules, Advisories and Instructions

- Post length is 300 words. I wont be draconian about it, however I feel that kind of size is more than adequate for a free section RP. - No controlling other peoples' characters without the say so of the owner. - Players start with pistols. Other weapons can be found at will, however. Be sensible. - There are lots, and lots of monsters from the depths of Hell wanting to eat your brains. Keep firing. - The RP will follow the rough "plot" of the game, whereby the squad starts at the Hangar, and proceeds to the Nuclear Plant and so on. A list of the maps will be found at the bottom. - I have little standards to enforce really. If you haven't played Doom, I'd recommend that you do. It's a simple premise of killing everything that comes across your path as you try and reach the next zone. Experience of the game is not necessary though. - This is not a narration of the game. This is a narration in the spirit of the game. We wont simply find the "end level switch", flick it and transport to the next zone. Rather, the zones will flow into each other. For example, we'll fight our way out of the Hangar, hop on a monorail and arrive at the nuclear plant. - Again with this not being a narration of the game. The levels and their layouts will be down to us, and we'll make them up as we go. Studying the actual game levels and using them just sounds so boring. Agreed? So we start at a hangar, who cares what it really looks like, we're going to paint it red. Make our way to some nuclear plant, redecorate it likewise, and move on from there.

Marine Sheet

Name: Gender: Age: Armour Colour: We all wear the same armour and helmets, so no one is actually all that unique looking. However, the colour of the armour will be a swell way to tell who is who. Refrain from stacking on a colour. Armour Characteristics: You can customise your armour, by stating what it looks like if you wish to. Here's what the Doomguy looks like in the game, assume his armour is the standard. Appearance Without Armour: Optional. This is for all of you who feel they may not be able to play unless they know exactly what their character looks like, generic armour be damned.

Dead Cruise

Jimmy struggled to his feet, clutching his swollen throat. "Fuck that hurt," he coughed, and then looked at the advancing bikini crazies. "I've got the left!" He barrelled into the girl on the left, using his fists to pound her face into blood and teeth fragments. She laughed excitedly, and produced a razor blade from who-knows-where. Jimmy saw it just in time to roll clear of her, before it sliced his neck clean open. "Oh come on honey," she said, getting to her feet and wiping the blood from her mouth. "Don't you like me?" Jimmy looked left and right for a weapon, and settled on a small metallic bin with a flip-lid. "Oh I like you plenty sweet heart," he said with a smile. "But my friend, Ben the Bin, likes you more so!" With that, he swung the bin at her head, cracking her across the side of the skull. She fell to the ground, and he moved over to stomp down on her head. "I really hope there's no cure for this, I'm killing a hella lotta people today. Would be a shame if all it took was some paracetamol!"

Dead Cruise

Jimmy lunged his mop-spear at the crazy in the Hawaiian shirt, planting the fillet knife deep into its chest. The man screamed briefly, half in hysterical laughter, half in terror, and then crumpled to the ground. The old lady was next, and she came in swinging with her weighted handbag. Jimmy reacted quickly, thrusting his spear at her, and realising too late that the duct tape had failed, and that the knife was still embedded in the man with the Hawaiian shirt. This being the case, the harmless end of the map handle smacked against the old crone's face, knocking her glasses from her eyes. "You fight like a little bitch," the old woman snarled, and then threw herself into Jimmy. He punched, and punched, but the crazy had the strength no elderly woman had the right to bear. She wrapped her hands around his neck, and started trying to choke him. "Help HELP HELP YOU USELESS IDIOTS!" Jimmy screamed towards the kitchen, before returning to the struggle.

Dead Cruise

The lights dimmed, and then fluttered out in the Sushi Bar. Jimmy, who had been resisting the urge to kill the two newcomers out of a warped sense of survival, braced himself for impact. Whenever the lights played up, it was always because of wave-related turbulence. Not so much as a slight vibration emitted from the floor however. "The generators are failing," he muttered, lowering his spear completely and staring at the blank lights in stupid wonder. And then the warning beacon came on, flashing an eerie red glow. Jimmy knew this light was used to convey emergencies, but it was normally accompanied by an alarm. "The fuck?" He mumbled, growing increasingly anxious. "Where's the alarm?" "Attention, Radiation iminate, evacuate now" boomed out over the bar's speakers in a cool and neutral tone. Jimmy smiled. Then laughed. "Okay," he said, struggling for breath. "Looks like a crazy has gotten himself into security. Great. That's fantastic." Noticing the worrying looks on the faces of his make-shift companions, he shook his head. "Unless that microwave I dropped was actually a fusion generator, there's not much chance of a radiation leak on a ship powered primarily by diesel." Then the bar's doors locked. "For fuck sakes," Jimmy cursed. He picked up his radio, went to utter some curses to the crazy with it, but then realised it was cracked and not working. "Huh," he said, "must have broken in the excitement. Oh well. One of you tell that prick we're coming for him - it wont do to have a crazy playing Saw in the middle of this mess." Jimmy felt invigorated by the no-nonsense hero attitude he had so suddenly adapted. He moved back into the bar, noted that only a few crazies stood outside the establishment, and promptly went about smashing his way through the large glass windows. He picked up a bar stool, hefted it to see its weight, gave a smug nod and chucked it. The glass shattered as the stool-shaped battering ram flew through it. Four crazies - a man in a Hawaiian shirt, an old lady in a stupid blood covered cardigan, and two young girls with matching floral swim suits, came charging through. They sliced themselves up bad on the broken pane, but only seemed to chuckle excitedly as the blood gushed from their flesh wounds. "Could do with a hand out here," Jimmy called back to the kitchen, and then charged for the Hawaiian Shirt. @User@Fillet@McHaggis@Jack

I need to stop biting my nails. Throw some advice at me

Stopping myself from biting my nails isn't the problem Noticing I'm doing it, is! You'll find the biggest part of stopping is that it's so ingrained in your habbits, that half the time it's something you do subconsciously. I had limited success with the stuff you put on your nails, and in the end gave up. Still, least I don't have to remember to cut them every few weeks. *looks at toes* ah crap, excuse me.

Dead Cruise

Accepted, Slendy. Also, just so you don't embarrass yourself in front of any nautical-based cool kids, the "cock-pit" of a ship is called a "bridge" :D