SepticGentleman

Arkos - [If you like the sound of superhumans fighting paramilitary troopers on a large jungle island, then this game's for you.]

That's fine, folks. I'm actually set for a trip pretty soon myself.

Arkos - [If you like the sound of superhumans fighting paramilitary troopers on a large jungle island, then this game's for you.]

Oh? We're introducing the SG people now? Good. Time for Evil Jesus to join the battle.

Franco Browning

Francisco “Evil Jesus” Browning

---

Appearance: 6’0”, 180 lbs. He’s got a surfer’s physique, tanned and sun-kissed with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He wears a shark-tooth necklace around his neck and has a tattoo of a weed leaf on his right shoulder (so you know he’s a douche). He has crooked teeth and smiles most of the time.

Attire: Yellow muscle shirt with a surfboard logo on the back, grey camo khaki shorts. He wears a pair of black and grey five-fingers (those shoes with toes in them). He has a grey assault vest trimmed in orange. The shoulder straps of the assault vest hold glowing blue nullifier packs. An orange bandana is wrapped around his right bicep. He carries an AK-47 on his right hip. It has a six inch bayonet on the end. On the back of his belt are two glocks. He has a 22” bowie-style machete that he carries on his left side. This is his favorite weapon. He calls it Martha and occasionally talks to it in a way that is weird even by SG standards. Martha is made of carbon steel, with a black rubber handle. Two leather cords hang from the loop on the end of the handle. Both have small feathers on the ends of them. He carries two nullifier grenades and two frag grenades. He carries a ukulele in a black travel bag on his left shoulder. The ukulele is named Caroline. Francisco also seems to be exceptionally affectionate to his uke. Someone once asked him if he liked Martha or Caroline more. He had a panic attack and wasn’t seen again for a week.

Backstory: Born in California. Francisco was a beach bum, a hopeless pothead surfer who didn’t have much of a life ahead of him. He tried the college thing, but it didn’t work out, so he worked in a surfboard shop and spent his days chasing the waves. Made some money off of surfing competitions and the like, but he just wasn’t satisfied. There was something missing from his life. He would sit there at night and contemplate what it was that he couldn’t find, what it was that made him unhappy. He watched the sharks rip away at their chum and breach to obliterate seals, and he sighed longingly.

Then he joined the military. He loved it more than anything, the visceral pleasure of pumping a man full of lead, the fun of slicing open guts and seeing what was inside. It was just. So. Fun. The military didn’t like him, though. He was too unpredictable, too dangerous. He was discharged after he sliced an innocent man to pieces in a frenzy of rage. So, he decided to become a mercenary. He worked with Adelon for a bit, but they weren’t much more fun than the army. So, when he heard SG was recruiting new hired guns, he jumped right in. He served in Africa for a few years, where he found the visceral pleasure he desired gunning down and cutting up metas in Somalia and Sudan.

It was here that he became known as “Evil Jesus” due to his crazy hair and hyper-aggressive attitude. Though he wasn’t particularly bright, he was rather charismatic and became popular among the other troops there. He bloomed under the desert son. He became a deadly killing machine. He learned how to use Krav Maga in order to break bones and end lives with his bare hands. He learned ukulele from a fellow soldier. By the time he left Somalia, there was not a single living metahuman in the country. He spent a few months in Afghanistan, killing people over there, until he was recruited to join the other SG troopers on Arkos. He is a junior officer currently serving under Baba (because he has the best weed). He’s fairly well-known in the organization, though not known or trusted enough to run his own gang. Grunts generally do what he says out of fear, especially after stories circulated of what happened when a soldier in Afghanistan disobeyed him. No one knows if the story is true, but they also really don’t want to find out.

@Maxx

Great shit, get the fuck-

Arkos - [If you like the sound of superhumans fighting paramilitary troopers on a large jungle island, then this game's for you.]

---

Aber was no longer a simple settlement for the prisoners of Arkos. It was now the rummaging grounds for a band of warmongers and lunatics. In such a short amount of time, vehicles and aircraft were posted everywhere, and the interior facilities were stocked with reserve equipment and supplies. A field HQ by the simplest definition.

Atop one of the helipads, Frank was seated on a crate, holding a tablet in his hands, with a displayed map of Arkos and its surrounding waters. Standing next to him was another man - shorter, darker, scarred on his face and arms, with filthy brown dreadlocks and a pair of sunglasses. And beside them was yet another man, seated on the floor of the helipad beside the crate, staring into the distance, petting an armored pit bull’s head. He was undoubtedly the largest and most well-built of the trio, blue-eyed, bald like Frank but still retaining his eyebrows, and with much lighter skin. His face was - for lack of a better term - torn open. From his right cheek running to his mouth was an unsightly wound, boring a hole into the lower right side of his face.

“So it’s east of us, lots of vegetation.” Frank said, “Their primary source of food. You know what that means.”

“Fiyah?” The dreaded man replied, “Oh, Kaal, fiyah would be good right ‘bout now.”

“I’d expect nothing less, Baba.” Frank replied, “Set up your war gang and burn it down, preferably by tonight.”

“Not comin’?”

“Nah, got a few other things to plan out.”

Baba turned his head towards the large man seated beside the crate. “You wan' in on this one, Cliff?” To which Cliff paused his petting of the pit bull, grunted, and shook his head. “What, ya dun feel like ‘andlin’ some heat?”

“Hhhhggg.” Was Clifford’s only reply.

Just then, someone came up the stairs leading up to the helipad - a young-looking Caucasian girl, with piercing blue eyes and braided blonde hair, wearing a black-and-yellow striped beanie. She was pulling along a prisoner by his neck, collared and restrained. And the girl, she looked furious.

“Jasmine!” Baba called out, “What’s it?”

“This FUCKING ASSHOLE keeps regenerating, and someone locked a broken collar on him!”

“Jasmine, just get some fucking bolt cutters or something.” Frank replied.

“I fucking did! But Adelon built these things with fucking DIAMOND apparently, and the bolt cutters FUCKING BROKE.”

“What about a nully-sig?”

“I AM TOO ANGRY FOR RATIONAL DECISION-MAKING RIGHT NOW. And besides, I wanna see this cocky little piss-bucket SUFFER.”

“Calm down!” Frank responded, “Just go get one of the truck pumps and put a tank of riot foam in there, shove it down his throat.”

Jasmine smiled and nodded, turning to the prisoner and saying, “Oh you’re gonna get your pussy tucked in good and proper, you little shit. Let’s go!”

“Ay wait up, Jasmine!” Baba called out, “I’m gonna get da gang up an’ fly over to them freaks’ food stuffs, burn it up. Wan’ in?”

“Yes!” Jasmine replied, approaching Baba with the prisoner slumped on the ground, “But I’m picking the music!”

“RPS.” Baba replied, holding out his hand. Jasmine raised hers, and the two shook their fists. Three shakes, and then they played their hands - Baba went paper, Jasmine went scissors. She immediately raised both her fists and called out, “RRRNNNGGG YEAH FUCK YOU, YOU OLD SHIT!” She then kicked her prisoner in the head, grabbed his busted collar, and dragged him off, leaving the three men to their devices.

“She is just delightful.” Frank said, smiling.

“Bah…” Replied Baba.

Arkos - [If you like the sound of superhumans fighting paramilitary troopers on a large jungle island, then this game's for you.]

Folks at Site Haeda - keep in mind you're a hop, skip, and a fuck away from Aber. The SG will be coming soon, which means MURDER.

Arkos - [If you like the sound of superhumans fighting paramilitary troopers on a large jungle island, then this game's for you.]

Damn, actually that thing is a helmet, and her mental abilities are reduced when she loses connection to it, Im not sure if this character would really work as The question of her humanity was kinda a part of the character. She is physically not much more than human (probably even LESS than average), mentally shes something akin to tony stark from iron-man.

Does it make a difference that the cyberwear is outside her body? and can be removed? She still blurs the lines of humanity but she is at least physically human, her inhumanity is equipment based (although she believes it to be just as much a part of her as an arm or a leg)

@Lucidnonsense

As long as all of her abilities lie in external hardware, and anything that's in her body only serves basic functions (metal replacements for bone structure, synthetic organs, nothing that makes her like the Six-Million Dollar Man), then she can definitely work.

If the idea is that she works with Adelon as some form of independent on-site supportive party, she really has to prove herself as human by their standards if she doesn't want to get thrown in with the prisoners.

Arkos - [If you like the sound of superhumans fighting paramilitary troopers on a large jungle island, then this game's for you.]

@Lucidnonsense

Alright, I see you went with cybernetics instead of anything viral, which was unexpected. That means I should point out that this topic was covered at the bottom of the first page of this OOC. I want to preemptively apologize because I know that information wasn’t made readily apparent before you made this character, and that is absolutely my mistake, but if I say no to something for one person and then yes to the same idea only made by another person, then I’d feel I’m being unfair.

In the idea for Arkos’ universe, cybernetics have not reached the point where stuff like this can happen - that is, advanced physical capabilities and bio-augmented ‘powers’. It was agreed upon early that we wanted to keep it on a level of, say, ordinary prosthetics that function just as well as normal limbs. This was to retain some level of species-confirmation in those who had them, and not totally blur the line between human and superhuman, because then there’d be a whole new side of the fight to mull over.

Don’t get me wrong, I like the idea of Prometheus - her controlling of drones (which would have to be the airborne kind and not the bipedal kind, since heavy-duty mechs and robots aren’t really a thing either) is a nice idea overall, and I would be more up to the idea if it were altered so everything worked on an external level, rather than internal. That helmet being an actual removable helmet (and not full-on replacing her flesh-and-bone head) that gives her full control of her drones, yeah I could definitely see that happening. I'd like it even.

But, as I said earlier, I just can’t double back on decisions I made earlier for the whole of the RP.

Arkos - [If you like the sound of superhumans fighting paramilitary troopers on a large jungle island, then this game's for you.]

<Snipped quote by SepticGentleman>

I cant seem to find a character sheet though, and yeah, will go with first idea for the time being.

@Lucidnonsense

Second OOC post, blue text. It's pretty barebones compared to most other RP sheets. I prefer to keep it simple and easy for people.

Arkos - [If you like the sound of superhumans fighting paramilitary troopers on a large jungle island, then this game's for you.]

<Snipped quote by SepticGentleman>

Yeah the viral hitler one could be tricky, and while she might be able to create a virus that chemically influenced peoples minds, she would probably not be able to control them. Perhaps rather than a typical vaccine they figured out how the viruses transmitted the information and recieved instructions from the villain and found a way to shut down the whole "viral network" Perhaps before her viral manipulation was shut down she used her viruses to alter her form into some kind of beast which no longer has the power to do the viral thing, but is still fairly dangerous. Perhaps this beast is unfinished so she is slowly dying.

As for the last one, I was thinking that the power boosting would revolve around broadening the scope of powers rather than giving them more raw power, how that would work would depend on the type of power. For example someone who could usually manipulate only water might be able to manipulate liquids in general. This all comes with the downside of being in a transcendental state in which the ego ceases to be and a breaking down the boundaries of the mind, Its kinda like a strong acid trip. What exists inside the mind and outside the mind blur etc etc

Ultimately, The first idea might be the simplest to implement.

@Lucidnonsense

Yeah, mess around with the first idea and get back to me. I wanna stay away from power boosters for the time being.

Arkos - [If you like the sound of superhumans fighting paramilitary troopers on a large jungle island, then this game's for you.]

WAR ACTIVATE.

The map has been updated. A portion of Adelon's ships are now under the Sunflower Group's control, and Site Aber has been turned into their field HQ.

Those of your characters at Site Haeda would be able to get a good view of the siege from afar.

Arkos - [If you like the sound of superhumans fighting paramilitary troopers on a large jungle island, then this game's for you.]

The next day. Early morning, before the sun begins to rise.

An Adelon trooper walks along the deck of one of the sixteen primary defense vessels stationed around Arkos’ perimeter. His rifle is in his arms. As he walks along the length of the ship, his eyes turn toward the island. His movement comes to a halt, and he stops to gaze at the several lights coming from the various Sites, and elsewhere. The prisoners were resourceful, that much was undeniable - energy quickly became no issue to them, when this whole operation started.

It was of no consequence to Adelon what they managed to pull off, as long as-

_{“C’mere!”}

A pair of arms reach past the trooper, covering his mouth with a rag soaked in some form of liquid. He is lowered to the deck, as he slowly ceases his struggling, and falls into unconsciousness. Above him, a young man dressed in a mismatch of clothes and combat gear, all painted in some variation of black, gray, yellow, and orange. He picks up the unconscious trooper by his armpits, and starts dragging him away. _{“Happy birthday, shitlord.”} He mutters, as more similar occurrences transpire across several of the defense vessels.

Nearby, another man dressed in similar colors speaks into an earpiece.

“Deck’s swept up. We’re moving everyone down to the cargo bay.”

[Good! You’re the last one. Get your techs on the controls, mask our birds. We’re comin’ in!]

“Gotcha.”

…

Site Aber. Morning, around 10:00 AM.

A gathering of some of the prisoners occupying the large, and relatively empty grounds, stand out in the open as an Adelon aircraft flies by and above them, leaving behind a segmented line of supply crates, descending towards the island with azure parachutes. The group stands around the outside pavement, waiting for the crate to reach them - full of food rations, pure water, fresh clothes, and other boons. Their waiting, however, was quite rudely interrupted as a loud bang sounded in the distance, and a shot rang through the air, striking the crate and blowing it to smithereens. The crate, its contents, and the parachute all go up in flames, falling to the ground much faster than before. The prisoners all turn their heads westward, in the general direction of the sound. They see nothing over the Site’s surrounding fence, but they hear…

Hush.

Suddenly, over the walls, aircraft begin to rise. Not Adelon’s, they weren’t blue or white in any regard, and not quite as advanced. Adelon’s had thrusters, these were older helicraft units. They were gray, with bright orange symbols sprayed on their hulls, in the shape of…

Sunflowers.

Most of the prisoners just stand there and watch, others immediately begin to run, either into Aber’s facilities or out into the wilderness. The song playing from one of the helicopters’ loudspeakers increases in volume as they all simultaneously fire a barrage of missile clusters at the whole of the Site. The prisoners have little time to react as the armaments strike down on them, outright killing a good few of them immediately. Some dodge the explosions, others make use of their powers in defensive maneuvers - force shields, jutting rocks from the ground, the like. The helicopters approach the Site, their numbers proving undeniably intimidating. More missiles and bullets begin to reign down on the surviving prisoners, clearing the grounds as the vessels descend. Some attempt to retaliate, bringing down a few crafts, but it is ultimately futile.

Armed men and women jump from the helicopters, dressed in the same range of colors, who immediately begin firing upon the prisoners with a myriad of weaponry, some arms more advanced than others - assault rifles, pulse shots, grenades, sniper fire, everything they could think of in that haphazard moment. This was nothing like Adelon, so uniform and tidy - these people were here for war.

The familiar blue light of nullifier signals came into view, as heavy troopers jumped from on high with bulky emitters strapped to their backs. They spread out, covering the grounds with the nullification signal, quickly beating down any retaliation from the prisoners. Those who hadn’t yet been shot begin to retreat, either into the nearby buildings, or out into the jungle. The latter quickly came to regret their choice of direction as the troops unleashed yet another weapon of theirs - dogs.

Dobermans, rottweilers, German shepherds, pit bulls, and more. Ferocious canines barking so loudly, they could even be heard over the gunfire. They were armored in black vests and padding, with the staple sunflower symbol. Nullifier signal emitters rested on their backs, fully operational and glowing bright and blue. They dash into the wilderness, quickly closing in on most of the runaways, jumping them, biting at their throats. Some attempt to throw them off, but in such dismay, they seemed so hopeless without their powers. Blood is shed quickly on the surrounding green.

Back at Aber, troops began moving into the facility. They were tossing nullifier grenades left and right, covering as much of the interior as they could. Prisoners were shot on site, dragged out into the open and quickly fitted with collars - a mixture of their own, much more uncomfortable-looking devices, and Adelon’s, no doubt stolen for this very occasion. The soldiers - many of them look to be enjoying themselves throughout all of this. Some of them seem actually quite young, only in their teens, but still seeming so committed to this act of war. Their whooping and yelling is horrible.

Before long, Aber is completely and utterly dominated, there being few who escaped from the onslaught. The troops quickly begin to celebrate, as more helicopters arrive from beyond the coast, Adelon’s defense vessels seemingly allowing them to pass unhindered. Troops are dropped off left and right, as well as vehicles - armored trucks and jeeps. Some vessels set down around the Site, while others return to the outward perimeter. Other Adelon ships begin moving away from the cluster that seemed to be under these soldiers’ control - four primary defense vessels, and seven of the smaller ships.

The troops now occupying Site Aber quickly begin turning it into a base for their own utilization. A great deal of them have captured prisoners planted down on their fronts, rods and hoops taught around their necks. Nullifiers, on dog and man alike, are standing by, weapons drawn.

A man walks before them, with others following behind him. He is dressed in an orange shirt, black trousers and boots, fingerless gloves, and plenty of appropriate combat gear. But strapped around his torso and limbs are humming devices, with glowing blue hexagonal plates along them, emitting some manner of protective force. The man is of a sun-beaten complexion, devoid of any strand of hair, with dark brown eyes, and the wryest smirk upon his face. He and his supposed subordinates stand before the line of restrained prisoners.

“Alright…” He starts to say, “Alright!” He turns his head left and right, smiling. “Solid lineup! But you’re gonna have to hold on for a minute, I… got a call to make.”

…

“Four primary vessels and seven secondaries reported captured.” Said Eli, in nothing like his usual smarmy tone. He was with Haliat in the observation bridge, personnel all around them in a rush. A display of the island and all of the ships was on the surface of the flat console before them. The ships that had been reportedly captured were glowing red instead of their normal cyan. “Personnel aren’t responding, no distress signals have been sent out.” Eli continued, “An assault on Site Aber was reported in by several defense vessels before they pulled away. They say it’s-”

“The Sunflower Group.” Haliat said, finishing his adjutant’s sentence.

“Sir, there are breaks in the perimeter, some prisoners could be escaping as we speak. We may have to launch CDF Proto-”

He was interrupted, again, by an ‘INCOMING VIDEO MESSAGE’ display on the map.

“It’s coming from Aber.” Eli said, “One of our mobile technician signals. PDV-4, one of the captured ones.”

“Put it on the main console.”

Eli complied, moving towards and upright screen by the line of technicians’ stations. He singled out the receiving feed, and accepted the message. On the screen was a live feed from Site Aber, showing the line of restrained prisoners on the ground, and the SG troopers surrounding them. The camera, whoever was holding it, was moving down the line, passing a glance at each of them.

[Can do all kinds of damage, on a massive scale… but you flash a little blue light on them, they’re suddenly shit outta luck.]

The camera was turned to show the face of its current operator. The bald man from before. Their leader.

“Frank!” Haliat called out, very much angry, even though he knew full well who it was.

[Alex! You remember me! That is such an honor.]

“What the FUCK are you doing, Frank?” Haliat yelled.

[Putting a stopper on your little, island enterprise here. You’ve got most of all the superhumans on the face of this earth in one spot, and we’re gonna fucking slaughter every last Goddamn one of them.]

“Son of a bitch!” Haliat called out, turning away and moving towards another console.

[Before you go giving the order to bomb our ships!] Frank continued, [Gotta tell ya, most of your men ain’t dead yet. We’ve got ‘em locked up, restrained, ready to be put down at any moment I say the word. You really wanna sink ‘em with the rest of us?]

Haliat stopped, but he didn’t look at the screen.

[Now we’re gonna sweep this island. Burn it to the fucking ground. You’re welcome to come ashore and try to stop us. But I’ve got my whole army on the reserve, and you can be damn sure you’re gonna lose plenty no matter how this ends. And no matter how it ends… you’re fucking ruined.]

The feed was cut from Frank’s end. Eli approached Haliat and said to him, “What do we do?”

“We are not launching CDF.” Haliat responded, “We do that, we’ll lose all of our assets, and our credibility. People will know we failed, and we will never be able to come back to this.”

“But if we let Frank rage his fucking war across the island, we’ll have nothing then!”

“Listen to me.” Haliat said, raising a finger at Eli, “We do not let word of this reach beyond these waters. No one will hear of this, and we are going to fix it.”

“Fucking, how?” Eli responded.

“Send in our forces, all retrieval teams, everyone. Start recovering as many assets as possible and move them off of the island. We need to clear the field so we can deal with the Sunflower Group without having to worry about losses to our stock.”

“What about our forces on the mainlands? Call them in?”

“No, not yet. Only when I say so, if we can’t handle this with what we have on hand. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Good. Get to work.”