Firecracker_

Wallmenders: Defenders of Humanity's last Bastion of Hope

Any Chinchin-following Roleplay is for me. I am interested.

@Eschatologist

ah, a fellow shitlord I see

also I see you have the exact same amount of posts as me, but in a fraction of the time

You Are Dead

Okay, there we go! I have my post! I'm pretty sure it's the longest of the 4, but I hope you all enjoy it! Give me feedback, if will please!

You Are Dead

Sitting on the desk, Takeda simply stared at the ever-familiar wall. Pictures of faces littered the board, some Japanese, other not. Strings wrapped around nail connected various pieces of information all around. It all formed a frenzied web of connections and crimes spanning half the world. All sorts of men and women, from Kingpins to street hustlers, had their face plastered on the wall. Now all that was left to do was to find these monsters, and put them away in their own, lovely, barred cells. It was as if the huge weight on Takeda’s shoulders had gotten lighter, yet heavier at the same time. They had all the evidence they needed to take down a huge arm of international drug trade, and they had already put away a few key members, but now, they had a massive fight ahead of them. It could take months, years even, but in the end, it would all be worth it.

“Time to go home, detective.” A groggy voice from behind Takeda spoke. He turned to see his partner, Matsumoto, trench coat slung over his shoulder, ready to leave the office. Takeda turned back to the information board once more, and took a deep breath, standing from the desk. Takeda took his coat from his desk, and slung it over his shoulder in a similar fashion as Matsumoto, and walked towards the exit, his partner at his right.

“Get some sleep, Hitoshi. The hard work is over, now comes the hard part.” Matsumoto said to his partner, a tired smile stretch across his face.

“Yeah, I know, just… it’s important to me, you know?”

“I get you, Hitoshi, it's important to everyone at the office, but you’re working yourself to death. Just relax a little bit, eh? Take it easy, rest a bit. The next few weeks aren’t going to exactly be the easiest.”

“I hear you, I hear you.” Takeda said, giving into his friend.

“Listen to what I said.” Matsumoto said, his hands on Takeda’s shoulders.

Matsumoto gave Takeda one last pat on the shoulders, before he began walking in the opposite direction. Takeda sighed, and turned to walk his own way to find his car among the many in the dark parking garage. Thankfully for Takeda, his car was always parked in the same spot, next to the corner of the entire lot. Taking the keys out of his pocket, he pressed the lock button, with the lights and horn on the car following suit and flashing once, helping Takeda find his car.

Finally reaching the car, Takeda walked around the side to reach the driver’s side, when a weight pressed on his back, and his knees buckled. Someone had pinned him to the car, and before he could react, had pressed a rag to his face, restricting his breathing to inhaling the fumes the radiated from the rag. He held his breath, and his arms rushed to his hip to pull his .38 special revolver, scrambling to move his coat out of the way of the holster. Before he could do so, his entire body was yanked backwards, as his assailant had pulled back and landed back first on the ground. Takeda frantically tried to elbow his way away from his assailant, but his lungs could handle it no longer, and he finally took a deep breath. Quicker than he expected, a sudden dizziness had hit his body, and his squirming and fighting began to weaken. Another set of hands had come in and restricted his hands, and gave him a good kick to the side, knocking the breath out of him. Takeda tried to scream, but as soon as his mouth opened, the chloroformed rag was stuffed in his mouth, and a hand found his nose, and pinched it tightly shut. The strength was being sapped from him with each excruciating second that passed by. His fighting and kicking turned into weakened wiggling and weak pulls on his assailant’s hand. Quickly, his eyelids became heavy, and without really realizing it, he had finally passed out.

---

(Horizontal rule/line)
When Takeda finally came to, his surroundings hadn’t changed much, except now, he could tell he was bound, bound to a chair. The darkness surrounding him was no longer the product of a lack of sun, but of a sack covering his eyes. Never in a million years would he have thought he would’ve been kidnapped, not by criminals, not anybody. But when he thought about the work he had doing, it only made sense.

“What do you want from me?” He called weakly out.

He could hear some shifting in the room, and could sense a few bodies move towards him.

“He’s finally awake, it’s about time.” A threatening voice said from the void in front of him. From the echoes of the sounds and stillness of the air, Takeda felt like he was indoors, a warehouse most likely. He lifted his head to the level it would normal be at, feeling his binds out. His wrists and ankles were bound tightly, with his torso very tightly tied to the back of the chair.Trying to escape, obviously, would be useless. Suddenly, as if to interrupt his thinking, the sack on his head was yanked off, and his surroundings were revealed. They were in the bathroom of his apartment, they must’ve snuck him in while it was still dark. In front of him stood Chomei Saji, a target pinned as an important head in the Yakuza. There were two other men who Takeda did not recognize next to him, all dressed in business suits. Chomei reached in his pocket, and pulled out Takeda’s phone, putting a finger on the screen and sliding it across, revealing the passcode screen, showing the screen to Takeda. An oddly happy smile was his face, as if he was trying to comfort Takeda.

Takeda chuckled. “You’ll get nothing from me, Saji.”

The smile faded, and turned into a confused, nearly offended frown.

“Ohh, Hitoshi, I mean no harm. I simply want you to call in sick. I’d hate for you to get in trouble with your employers. Put the code in.”

Takeda let off another slight chuckled, his gaze falling towards his lap. “Eat shit, Saji.”

Saji let out a chuckle of his own. “I don’t think he heard me, Tanaka.”

The man to Chomei’s left simply nodded and advanced, landing a vicious punch to Takeda’s face, following up with another unforgiving hook. The blows came one after another, each just as jarring as the last, until Takeda’s mouth and nose both flowed freely crimson, and his face had a few cuts. The man stood back, shaking off his shivering hands, which were equally bloodied.

Chomei spoke up. “Now, come on, Hitoshi. We wouldn’t want to hurt you anymore, eh? Just give me the code so we can make the call.”

Panting and spitting blood all over his shirt and pants, Takeda took a shaky look up, with some hair stuck to his face by the blood. “Fuck you, Seji. I know you, I know what you really want. You’ll have to pry it from my dead hands you son of a bitch.”

“Ah, but see, that’s the thing. I already have everything I want. I won’t be prying anything from anyone, but…..You’re expendable, Hitoshi. I was simply hoping that you would be smart. You would’ve been a great detective, Takeda”

Takeda spit at the disrespect, a bloody globule of saliva landing on the velvet leg of Chomei’s pants. A stinging blow blindsided Takeda, and he let out a yell of pain and anger.

“I’m feeling abnormally merciful today, Hitoshi. Give me the code, and you might live. Or...have it your way.”

“I was never like you, Seji. I’ll never be like you. You’ll have to kill me first.” Takeda panted, the blood on his face beginning to dry and pull on his face.

“As you wish, Hitoshi. Such a shame. You would’ve made an even better Yakuza.”

Before Takeda could respond, a bar came from behind, roughly finding its way under his chin, pressed hard on his chin. His heavy breathing became rasping, struggling wheezing as the baton laid its pressure on his throat. Chomei produced a knife from his pocket, moving forward, grabbing Takeda’s now swelling face. He forced Takeda to look forward, straight into his dark, near black eyes. No remorse, nor mercy were to be found anywhere in them. Chomei let got for a moment, only to punch Takeda across the face, and continued to come with punches one after the other until Takeda was battling to stay awake. Hands found their way to Takeda’s mouth, forcing it open, with Chomei’s handing making it’s way in, grabbing his tongue. Chomei shoved his knife in Takeda’s mouth roughly stabbing into his tongue, with Takeda’s begging to weakly shake and struggle under the pain, which grew greater as Chomei began to roughly slice it’s way across. Blood poured from Takeda’s mouth, and all over his pants and shirt, as well as Chomei’s. Takeda’s who had been trying his best to remain silent, finally clenched his jaw, and began to bellow at the pain. Chomei retracted his hands, and began another flurry of punches, until Takeda could barely keep his head up, and simply whimpered.

The excruciating operation finally ended, and Chomei simply tore the tongue the rest of the way out, with Takeda letting out another great bellow. With the tongue tossed aside, Chomei sunk his knife into Takeda’s abdomen, which was now rising and falling more weakly than before. Using all his strength, he pulled the knife down, tearing flesh and organs alike. Takeda gaged through his weak crying, letting out another weak yell as the knife was roughly yanked from his gut. The bar was moved, and Takeda, too weak to hold his head up, let it fall, with the blood from his butchered mouth spilling out on his lap. Instead it was forced up, again with Chomei’s hand. He took another hard look into Takeda’s watery, bloodshot eyes, before forcing and holding his head up, facing the ceiling. Takeda felt the sharp sting of the knife blade dig it’s way into his throat, and across his neck, a flow of warm blood falling down his neck, wetting the collar of his shirt.

The hand left Takeda’s chin, and his head fell, limp. The pain was overwhelming, and the bleeding was too fast. The blood on Takeda’s face mixed with tears. He simply sat, tears and blood dripping, as he could barely hear the men leave the room, slamming the door behind them. As his vision blurred and darkened, and his ears began to fill with white noise, thoughts began to fill his head. His parents, sobbing at his funeral. Matsumoto, stuck with a new partner that was fresh out of academy. Chomei and his lackeys ransacking Takeda’s apartment, all of his worldly possessions, tossed about in Chomei’s thirst for any information he could get on the case.

He thought of himself, how they would find him. Covered in his own blood, disemboweled and tongue cut out of his mouth, tossed aside as if it was some piece of rubbish. What a state to be found in. He could hardly find the energy to keep his eyes open, and the hole in his throat kept him from getting his precious oxygen, and keeping him from whimpering anymore. His eyes finally shut, and his entire body fell limp.

His eyes shot open again, and a huge breath entered his lungs. He shot up from his position sititng on the floor, and backed up into the corner of the room, taking huge, gasping breaths. His hands shot up to his throat and mouth, searching for all his wounds. His tongue? Still in his mouth! His throat? Completely sealed! His abdomen? Free from any wounds! His clothes were still soaked in blood, his shirt different shades of dried crimson.

Wasn’t he dead? Where was he now? His head shot up, and he saw three women all looking at him, their eyes nearly as wide as his was. Next to one was a large metal box, a laptop on top.

“What is this? Who are you all?” He frantically questioned. “I-is this purgatory?” The Japanese fell out of his mouth, but the others continued to stare at him. He then noticed that two of them looked to be American’s, white women. The other one, on the other hand, actually looked like she was Japanese like him.

He pointed a blood stained hand at her. ‘You! Where are we, who are these other women?” He nearly screamed.

He fell to his knees, praying silently to himself.

“Oh God, I know I haven’t been the best follower...well, I haven’t followed you at all, but you must let me into heaven, please! I haven’t sinned, I was a good man, a good man doing good things. Please rescue me from this purgatory!”

You Are Dead

oh god everyone is posting, don't worry im nearly done

You Are Dead

Just a little side note, I just posted an interest check! Look at it here! @Midori I hope you don't mind me posting this here.

Problem posting Advanced Interest Check

Casual/Advanced might have had a bit to do with it, but I think it was more the "large vs small' that did it, considering the system (probably) interprets it as one way or another - with the logic that small groups can't be large, obviously, any more than a large group can be small.

It's a thing that has been reported that I haven't tested all that much, I might link up with a mod and test it, then have the threads removed when done, just to see how exactly that works.

@ArenaSnow

Ah sounds odd. Thanks for the help, anyways!

Problem posting Advanced Interest Check

Certain tags don't work in certain forums, it seems. What did you use (before and after)?

@ArenaSnow

I used Casual, Advanced, both Small and Large Group, and then Sci-Fi and Post-Apocalyptic. I assume casual was messing it up? Also, after I only used Advanced, Large Group, Sci-Fi and Post-Apocalyptic.

Problem posting Advanced Interest Check

Did ya try tweaking the tags you used?

@ArenaSnow

Wow, that actually worked, what the heck? Has that been a problem?

Wallmenders: Defenders of Humanity's last Bastion of Hope

It could be said that the legacy of the Wallmender started in 2055, when Humanity had begun to send its first colonial space flights into outer space. We made successful landings on Mars, Venus, and Jupiter. It would take time, but these colonies were set to prosper into Humanity’s first symbolic full step off of Earth, and into the surrounding Sol System. Times seemed exceptionally bright, the dreams of Humanity were in grasp. Of course, like all good things, it came to an abrupt end, sadly. On a peaceful Autumn day, after a few months of peaceful expansion without many hiccups, all three of the colonies went suddenly silent on all venues of communication. In the control rooms on Earth, the anxiety and fear were palpable, the scientists and generals fearing their greatest nightmares had come true.

For a sparse moment , all of the communications reconnected, but there was no large sigh of relief. All of the camera feeds showed a single, horrifying face, alien in every way. To simply look at the face gave even the strongest of men a feeling of fear in their gut strong enough to cripple them. It spoke in a slurred, heavily raspy and broken English. None of it’s face moved, but it spoke anyways. The words that it uttered cast more fear over the control rooms than even its face did.

“Humanity, like many before it, has stepped beyond boundaries. Now, must be eliminated as threat.”

The control rooms went into a frenzy, trying to find out who broadcasted the message, where it was broadcasted from. The generals moved to scramble the best defenses they could muster against whatever they could possibly be attacked by. Among all the frenzy, the broadcast came again, but instead, over all of the phones, radios and televisions of the world. The ominous threat was broadcasted to every person on the planet, and created even greater frenzy and panic than that of before. The entire planet was rushing to get into any great shelters and bunkers they could. The mood on earth was that of the end time, and it wasn’t too far from the truth.

On October 17th, 2056, the skies all over Earth darkened, thought it was not simple clouds behind it. The skies were filled with massive ships of incomprehensible size, all in strange shapes and formations, but threatening all the same. The military systems of Earth had detected their arrival, and all of it’s largest weapons were pointed towards the skies and unleashed their deadly payload. Fortunately, the ships of the hostile alien race were not completely impervious as before feared, and a few of the smaller ones struggled to keep themselves afloat in the atmosphere.

The attack of the humans, in the end, would prove to be vain, and massive beams or energy erupted from the ships, striking the earth with unforgiving ferocity. Before any counter attack could be made, entire lands were completely wiped of any and all life, left barren, rocky crust. Millions were killed within a few minutes, Billions within the hour.

When all was said and done, most of the planet’s surface had been effectively glassed, and only a small bastion of devastated humans were left on earth, as if it was planned to be that way from the beginning. One last city, which could sustain roughly 1 million humans at max capacity, was left. Before the Devastation, as survivors had come to call it, the city was called Vextrik, but it’s name had been changed to the suiting Bastion. The surviving humans then set out to fortify what was left of their race to eek out what sort of survival they could.

Soon after they began recovery, they were visited by yet another alien race, but this one was, thankfully, more friendly race. The emissary quickly gave the remnants of government a package of information, before making its quick exit off the planet, noting that consorting with other races was dangerous. The package informed the humans that the race that attacked them was a race of near-gods known as the Chor. They considered themselves the rulers of the universe, and anytime a race of intelligent life evolved far enough for interplanetary travel, that race was either exterminated or near exterminated, and those that survived were either left to slowly die, or were later hunted for sport by the Chor. No race of life thus far had anywhere near enough strength to fight back against the Chor. There were three other races of life, the Rennai, the Ghenni, and Xenobes that were left in nearby systems. It was unknown if any other races had encountered the Chor. The information was sparse past that, and the visit by the alien had left many mysterious questions to the humans.

Now, for the sake of the interest check, I will skip past some of the backstory and present the roleplay as of now. Over the many years that Humanity has managed to keep itself alive on the habitable ground left, a large wall has been around the circumference of the habitable area, near the “Badlands” as they are called. This wall is manned and maintained by the “Wallmenders”, a long line of brave warriors and intelligent workers who have kept the hope of Humanity alive even at its farthest reach. Or at least, that’s what it was.

Being a Wallmender used to be an occupation of great honor and prestige. Only those of immaculate might and intelligence were fit to be Wallmenders, and even fewer were fit to be chosen to venture outside the walls. Since its beginning, the glory and luster of being Wallmender has faded and rusted, the harsh life of the badlands and back breaking and mind-numbing work of being the wall repaired and guarded is becoming increasingly and increasingly less desirable to the people of Bastion.

You, the roleplayer, will be playing as a squad of Wallmenders on the eastern side what has been deemed “The Land of the Bastion.” It’s been a quiet 150 years, and the job hasn’t gotten any more fun, or any easier. Everyone is always thinking it, but no one ever has the balls to say it. When are the Chor coming to hunt us down? According to the information package given to us by the strange emissary so long ago, Humanity should’ve already been hunted to extinction. Has someone finally been able to topple the Chor? Or is something much more sinister in the works?

Thanks for reading! Hope you’re interested!

You Are Dead

Takeda Hitoshi: Dead Detective.

@Athinar

fixed that for you