Hey everybody! Wanted to tag you all and let you know the ooc is officially up and within the next day the first opening IC post will be up as well-although that could change if was as a group get together and colab something, otherwise im about ready to post somethin up there.
Anyways, here's the character sheet-go ahead and post it in ooc for us all to look at, and then once its okd we'll move em to the character section. Also feel free to rp more then one char (if you feel comfortable doing so) and above all else just have fun. Feel free to shoot me a pm concerning anything-even if its just an idea for the rp.
Name:
Hero/Villain Name: (If applicable)
Age:
Gender:
Appearance: (I honestly just prefer a description here, but a description + picture is also fine.)
Costume Description: (If applicable.)
Powers/Unique Traits: (This can include special skills and advanced knowledge specific to the character regardless of enhanced abilities.)
Personality: (Atleast two paragraphs required, one for Pre Outbreak and one for Post Outbreak.)
Mental State: (This can change throughout the game, but for now go ahead and throw up a sentence or two in regards to your current characters state of mind; after all everyone would deal with and be effected by the outbreak on some mental level.)
Bio: (break it up into two sections: Pre Outbreak and Post Outbreak.)
Hey everybody! Wanted to tag you all and let you know the ooc is officially up and within the next day the first opening IC post will be up as well-although that could change if was as a group get together and colab something, otherwise im about ready to post somethin up there.
Anyways, here's the character sheet-go ahead and post it in ooc for us all to look at, and then once its okd we'll move em to the character section. Also feel free to rp more then one char (if you feel comfortable doing so) and above all else just have fun. Feel free to shoot me a pm concerning anything-even if its just an idea for the rp.
Name:
Hero/Villain Name: (If applicable)
Age:
Gender:
Appearance: (I honestly just prefer a description here, but a description + picture is also fine.)
Costume Description: (If applicable.)
Powers/Unique Traits: (This can include special skills and advanced knowledge specific to the character regardless of enhanced abilities.)
Personality: (Atleast two paragraphs required, one for Pre Outbreak and one for Post Outbreak.)
Mental State: (This can change throughout the game, but for now go ahead and throw up a sentence or two in regards to your current characters state of mind; after all everyone would deal with and be effected by the outbreak on some mental level.)
Bio: (break it up into two sections: Pre Outbreak and Post Outbreak.)
Edit:Of course my dumbass posts this on the wrong thread...
APPEARANCE - Steeple stands at 6'2, with narrow shoulders and a muscle bound physique, wrapped in scar flecked, milky white skin. On top of his head he has a coarse rug of hay yellow hair, short at the back and on the sides but long on top, combed to the right. He has a narrow head with a well defined, angular jaw and thin lips that always appear to be pursed; on the right side of his neck, he has tattooed the cog shape of a vault door with 121 at its center, just under which he had his Vault ID number tattooed in. Over top his body, he wears the remains of a vault suit, the trouser and belt parts mostly intact but the top, torso covering area, significantly tattered; so he ties that portion around his waist, with the knotted sleeves dangling from his belt buckle, tied to the handle of a Vault Tec lunchbox. Substituting the missing torso clothing, he wears a vault 121 t-shirt, wit the numbers boldly printed in yellow on the back. Stuffed into the back of his trousers, he has a blued .32 revolver and at his left he has a combat knife. However Steeple is no average guy, his entire left side is ghoulified, pale, thin skin draped over wasted, mottled muscle; the skin is slightly translucent and torn in some places, it doesn't appear to be fully attached to the flesh below, leaving areas that are loose and pliable and easy to tear off, hence the reason he has flappy patches of torn skin revealing angry, red muscle.
PERSONALITY - Steeple is a cocky and headstrong young man, who believes he can take on the world and whatever armor it is wearing. He often makes brash decisions and often comes out holding the short straw, but he bounces back just as fast and might just succeed the next time. He takes offense quickly and is often ready with a comeback, having studied you prior to a conversation, he may not always succeed but bless the boy, he plans. Though he is questionable in terms of how he perceives himself and others, he understand that when it comes down to business, he can’t slip up, saving mistakes for his personal endeavors and not when it comes to money. During jobs, he is often serious and highly irritable, wanting everything to go exactly as planned under threat of storming off and brooding. He is a gambling man, often taking risks by accepting impossible jobs and betting on impossible odds because he “had a feeling” and often against people who are much more powerful than himself. Though he would look like the person who would disrespect you in an instant, he has decent manners to those he feels deserving of them but not for those he has issues with. Apart from that, he knows how to have a good time, being a great person to be around when he's in a good mood.
FACTION - None Affiliated (Leans towards The Order)
BIOGRAPHY - Chase was born in vault 121, one of the few vaults that were actually meant to save people, to his drunk of a mother and a father of whom he had never met, as he died prior to Steeple being born. From the onset of his life it seemed that he was going grow up, live and die in the vault, If the mandatory tattoo on his neck wasn't enough evidence, he didn't know what was. But other then that life was normal, or as normal as life in a subterranean fallout shelter could be. Though at 10, his life started taking a turn for the worst; on his tenth birthday he wasn't presented with a PipBoy as others had been, there were none left in stock, instead he was given a pen and a book and was sent off to begin with his first vault responsibilities completely and utterly miserable. Life after that point was hell, he was the target of all the other children's malice, they poked fun at him for not having a PIPboy.. Or a father.
Years passed though, scars opened and closed but one thing was constant, his mother's sorrow. She had been utterly miserable, even a child could see that, the death of his father - her lover - had never left her. After he was old enough to care for himself, at the age of 14 or so, she had dropped mothering all together, instead favoring the bitter rim of acrid, home brewed alcohol. His childhood and young adult life was a depressed mess of disappointment and caring for his mother. Upon reaching 16 years of age he sat the GOAT, the Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test, "You can't fail this." he recalled his teacher telling him but the outcome sure did feel like a failure. Maintenance, where they put those who were good at nothing, he reported downstairs the very next day and his bad luck chanced by him once more. Steeple and the other apprentices were stood in front of a large projector screen, as the instructor explained something; as he stood, he caught fragments of a whispered conversation from behind him. His blood went cold. Apparently the two had taken a route that took them past his and his mother's quarters and had heard a commotion inside. Slowly he turned and started to push his way through throng of his peers, his instructor noticed and ordered him to get back into line, he kept pushing until he was out and dashed to his room. His mother was inside, yelling and struggling against the restraining grip of a large man; in fear and rage Steeple didn't think, picking up a pencil he and lunged at the man, pushing the sharpened implement into the man's back.
Eventually the man died and Jingo was in big trouble, he was held in solitary for months and when he was released for his disciplinary hearing he was greeted with bad news. He had to leave the vault, 'we can't have a menace like you continue to be among us.' They told him before unceremoniously shoving him out of the vault. At first he found it hard to cope he was crippled with fear but slowly, over weeks, that fear turned to resentment and that to anger. He didn't last long in the wasteland, after a few months he had gotten into trouble with some unsavory types and they were after his head for not paying his tab; they chased him into a pre-war power plant where they snuffed him out, shooting him and dumping his body into a waste vat.
Though that wasn't the end of the story.
He woke up with a groan to find himself still alive, walking out he caught a glimpse of himself in a reflective surface and began flailing and screaming in anger. He was a ghoul. After a hundred years, all his anger and hate simmered down into a dull throb, everyone he knew in the vault were now dead, replaced by their descendants and the people who ghoulified him were also most likely dead. He had no one to get revenge on.. So why bother?
What ever do you mean? It is there, in the Character Tab where it always was.
I honestly cant find your character as well man-and I read about 4 pages worth of ooc looking for a link lol. I am 100% sure you were accepted and I have see your char before but, any chance you could throw it up in the ooc again for us mentally challenged rpers? *looks accusingly at Ulster while trying to pretend Im not just as completely lost*
Our story takes place within a bleak world that slightly mirrors our own, however in this world that slightly mirrors our own, however in this world men and women with extraordinary powers began to emerge around the year 2008 at random. Although small in number it was clear that this was the advent of what the media quickly came to call real life “Super Heroes.” As fantastical as this seemed it quickly became common place and extremely sensationalized in the media-heroes becoming the new celebrities almost overnight. Likewise villains rose up, both sane and deranged alike they created an entirely new version of crime only dreamed about in comic books from the days of old-luckily for the most part heroes always seemed to be one step ahead of any major global or nationwide disaster much to the crazier villains chagrin.
Sadly at what seemed like humanities brightest moment and the beginning of a possibly new chapter in human evolution this new creative flame was abruptly snuffed out in the course of a year as yet another seemingly fictional force manifested itself in a physical way; a rampant virus sweeping across the whole global community in a way that many had assumed was impossible up until that time. It was like the bubonic plague of the modern era and by the year 2016 the entire globe had felt its deadly touch.
Most shocking of all was the way that this special strain of disease-as the short lived television broadcasts had called it- not only killed you but would cause one to rise back up from the dead acting like something that could only be compared to a ravenous zombie from some sort of horror movie; even head trauma being the only way to kill these unfortunate victims.
Naturally the worldwide populace turned to their would be heroes for salvation only to find that these unique individuals only made the problem much much worse; every hero (and villain) that was bitten or died in the efforts to save their communities not only became one of the seemingly endless undead army but would also begin to bite and turn their own victims-victims that would turn into something akin to a super zombie; often acquiring a lessened version of the power that their attacker had possessed.
Within a month of the initial outbreak both the United States and the whole of North America lay in ruins; those few lucky and skilled enough to have survived eeking out a meager day to day living within the surrounding landscapes of this decaying hell on earth. In this new world almost all super powered individuals have been killed or zombified, which is really no surprise considering they had been so small in number prior to the viral outbreak. The few rare gifted individuals left do their best to make what differences they can in the now small and scattered pockets of human survivors-that is except for those gifted individuals who prey on these same unfortunate powerless groups.
Like most Countries the United States was thrown into a state of chaos practically overnight; from the start of reports about crazed infected individuals both Military and Government officials alike failed to grasp just how volatile this situation was quickly becoming. By the time quarantines, roadblocks, and curfews went into effect almost every major city along the West and East Coast had fallen-victims of a government that had left them completely unprepared, uninformed, and overwhelmed. All of this was a fact only made worse by the realization that everyone was actually already infected; regardless of how you died or if you'd never even seen a zombie-the cold truth of the matter was something had happened worldwide and now every man, woman, and child seemed destined to come back as one of those things upon death.
Needless to say that once this knowledge became commonplace human nature really began to kick in among a panicked population that now found themselves a step lower on the food chain: the results of which almost wound up creating more undead.
Fortunately large expanses in the Midwest and South faired much better then their coastal bretheren. Although initialy hit just as hard in the beginning days of the Outbreak many communities, and even some larger cities, were able to survive largely in part to how spread out construction tended to be in these parts. Rarely would one find themselves trapped in an alleyway or encounter whole connected City blocks.
Sadly the Midwest is still more comparable to a man dying slowly of cancer then some great testament to a victory over the Z virus. Even worse the dead within many of the now completely abandoned coastal cities and towns have begun to drag themselves to the more populated states: scientists (the few left) are completely baffeled as to whether they are following some unseen force or just pure animilistic instinct. The sea of shambling undead has not only brought more zombies to contend with but even more dangerously it has brought with it more special zombies-the type turned by a long since dead super hero or villain.
---- The following is a list of both the local heroes and villains that have already succumbed to the Z Virus and the corresponding zombies these special powered beings create.
Local Heroes Lost-PowerSet
Blue Tessla-Electrical Manipulation Liberty Bell-Supersonic Vocals The Bronze Bear-Impenetrable Skin SmokeScreen-Air Manipulation The Blur-Superspeed
Special Zombies (must be bitten by original hero/villain)/Abilities
Shockers(Blue Tessla)-Inheriting Blue Tessla's ability to manipulate electricity these deadly bastards pack quite the wallop if there is any skin on skin contact-oftentimes flooding the body with enough volts to stun an average man.
Screamers(Liberty Bell)-Like Liberty Bell the (un)fondly named Screamers have the ability to let lose blood curtling shrieks capable of cracking glass. Although not outright deadly Screamers are often hated by survivors due to the fact that their screams draw in any zombies within the immediate area-often turning a bad situation much worse.
Scabs(Bronze Bear)-The only way to kill these particularly deadly zombies is through the mouth up into the skull or with a well placed attack through the eyes. Having inherited Bears impenetrable skin these are one of the deadliest zombies to encounter within KC: especially if there is more then one of them.
Smokers(SmokeScreen)-Like the Screamer the Smokers inherited an ability that isn't downright deadly-they simply continuousley spew thick black smoke from their mouths. However when indoors or encountered in high numbers they can lower a survivors line of sight to practically zero-something you don't want to happen mid zombie fight.
Runners(The Blur)-Arguably the most dangerous 'zombie type' in Kansas City these speedy little freaks can reach up to thirty miles an hour when sprinting-they literally give new meaning to the term fast food.
@Amelian DracoI also thought I would have to download it or something along those lines-but literally i just wound up clicking a link, makeing a username, and then got put in chat. I think some newer cps (like mine and yours) might just have whatever you need to run it already on there.
If you are like me and are somewhat nervous because you have never used a skype (like literally, this is my first time ever even seeing it) go ahead ad ask Kraken for the link anyways-I was surprised to find out how easy it was to get in the chatroom.
SECONDARY QUEST- A Light in the Darkness @Ulstermann
"Eat lead you motherfucker!!" A particularly loud and noisy raider screamed while practically foaming at the mouth, a large drum fed assault rifle raining thunder in the direction (Boss assumed) Carson had just opened fire from. Admiring the dead bodies that littered the ground Boss tried to make a mental note to let Carson know he was a decent shot-you know, if iether of the pair survived the firefight that had erupted in mere seconds.
Fortunately for the moment being all attention was off of Boss; the wall of gunfire the raiders let lose souly focused up on Carsons little perch. Honestly it couldn't have been a better situation for Boss, the distraction literally allowing him to walk out from behind cover into the thick of things without any of the raiders so much as batting an eye. Hell, from the corner of their eyes they probably though he was just another roughly dressed river bandit.
Not wasting a second of Carsons distraction Boss struck his first target from behind; his gnarly looking machete sinking a good half inch into the skull of the chemd up raider that had been shooting the bulk of bullets and obscenities at Carson. The mans enraged expression immediately turned blank as if he could no longer remember what emotion was; the last look on his face being a brief display of agony as Boss turned the machete sideways-effectively pointing the man in the direction of the few men that had now taken notice off Boss.
In a rather morbid display Boss held the machete with one hand; guiding his man sized puppet on a stick into the path of any bullets aimed his way while simultaneously shooting at the remaining card players-in three bullets he'd dropped two more men.
Hopefully that'll open up somethin for Carson Boss thought as he lined up his next shot, his eyes growing wide as an arc of white hot fire filled the air from somewhere to his right. Turning he met eyes with the bandit leader who Boss was to pumped full of adrenaline and drugs to properly recall name wise. Honestly he was more concerned with the (dead?) raider on the end of his machete who had burst into flames courtesy of his former Boss.
In what was a rather sudden attempt to rip his machete free Boss was met with a horrifying "Ca-Link" sound as his machete snapped in half. Well, more like thirds-and he was left holding the smaller digit. Staring at the broken piece of steel for what felt like hours Boss finally looked up at the bandit leader with a display of disbelief etched on his face; the sight of the flamethrower wielding lunatic laughing at him sending him into a rage.
"YOU FUCK! YOU FUCKING FUCK!" Boss roared clearly upset about more then just some broken machete. The blade had obviously meant something to him on a personal level. "Ill fucking KILL you!" His words dripped with venom and the seriousness of a man that intended violence;which became even more clear when he actually threw himself at the raider leader who had been halfway into shooting yet another volley of flame Boss's way. Sheer momentum carried Boss rather safely through the short burst of fire, he could feel the crackling heat and dancing flames kiss his skin during his mad dive but for the most part he was unscathed-only the tail ends of his duster actually catching fire.
Boss seemed to completely tune out the fact that he was on fire though as he wrestled on the ground almost comically so against the slightly larger man-like an angry animal Boss kicked, punched, stabbed, and headbutted any piece of flesh that wasn't his own-even biting the mans ear off at one point.
After a few moments of what had evolved into a rather epic brawl the remaining raiders seemed to lower their guards slightly-as if the show of their Boss fighting some crazy stranger was in fact more interesting then the potential sharpshooter that had just killed so many of their comrades. Bandits were stupid like that.