Current
I should be catching up on things this weekend. I'm also looking for a partner for two if anyone wants to work something out!
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11 days ago
I'm at 21 years, but I'm not *that* old despite feeling like I am absolutely archaic. Writing is a hobby regardless of age.
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11 days ago
This pneumonia is hanging on and I'm not doing well with it. Sorry for the long delay, partners.
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25 days ago
Finally feeling a little better, so posts will hopefully be up tomorrow after I try working for a full day!
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27 days ago
Can a girl catch a break? Mycoplasma pneumonia over here.
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Bio
Welcome, welcome!
The short and sweet: I'm an old lady in my thirties, so I ask my partners be 18+. A veteran of many years of writing - I started way back in the days of wolf packs on AOL. Female and pansexual; I write with any and all genders - recently, I'm delving into attempting to write male roles. Dog mom and outdoor enthusiast; medical professional, volunteer firefighter, first responder, and wildlife rehabilitator.
I'm a fairly open book that has written just about everything at some point or another. I tend to write decent to long posts, play female characters (attempting to round that out), and I'm amenable to most ideas. I love slice of life, historical, fantasy, and apocalyptic adventures.
World building is fun, but so is quick play. I have a few partners that go back with me for years that I've built entire worlds and multiple generations with.
I tend to have "flawed" characters; perfection is boring, character development is not. Learning to work through their flaws, or overcome fears, is a driving point to play for me. Some of them have profiles, some of them do not. Preferences are for the dark, gritty, and rough - I don't go for fairy tales because everything being perfect would be boring.
This will keep growing with time, but feel free to PM with any questions or ideas you have in mind! I prefer one on one, but a good group might be able to catch my eye. It's been literally a decade since I wrote in a group because of a mixture of work, mental health, and obligations outside of the online world.
Having returned to her workshop, the dirty windows in need of a thorough scrub let in plenty of light as Doctor Taylor's small frame puttered about. Placing tools and materials back onto shelves that were immaculately clean and organized, it looked like a different place and time to walk into the old pharmacy. Despite the grime of age without heavy chemicals to clean it, and a need to take vinegar to the glass panes, it looked nice. Not clinical, but warm and open. Beyond the open areas that had plenty of space unused where the shelves had once been and were now repurposed, the back area originally made to compound and make medications now housed her carefully scavenged research equipment. The break room had become her bedroom with what was essentially a full-size futon, but she hadn't bothered to look for anything better with the time crunches she was usually under.
Hearing the door bell chime as the woman was lifting her apron off to hang it up, warm brown eyes traced over to Sawyer and Freya as they entered. They seemed to be together most of the time, which was fine by the doctor. A small, tired smile went onto her features at the sight of them, though it was obvious that the ginger was exhausted. Sleep was too often sacrificed for everything and everyone else, and it showed in how bloodshot her eyes were as well as the dark circles present and dullness in her skin.
"Just some supplies for the augments," came the soft reply. "There's an AutoZone a couple miles up the road, we need lubricants and screws. Tawny's are starting to strip and with wetter weather coming, you both need to make sure you're oiling everything well to avoid rust and breakdown." Pushing a hand through her hair, the long strands were tossed over her shoulders.
Going to her work bench, a pencil and paper were used to write a short list of things that would be needed for her work and to keep the false limbs in working condition.
Hydraulic lubricant Screws of various sizes Protective oils Small gauge wiring Whatever you think is useful
Handing the list over, the woman sat back down at her work bench. "Your leg is all right for a run? Otherwise you two could take horses, but Tawny will be very sad if you lose them."
Commotion. Enhanced senses heard it before there was one little key of their walkies, something that could have been considered nothing more than a mistaken touch of the button. Brows knit together as her head turned, forcing Eden's body to stand from where it had been sitting. From her vantage point, it was easy to see that the guard below was pointing his weapon at something or someone, and it garnered interest from the veritable attack dog in human form. Climbing down and dropping onto the catwalk atop the walls, her leisurely pace soon changed to a dead sprint as a large form managed to clear the defenses and knocked the man out cold.
What was his name? Gomez?
Eden couldn't remember.
What she could focus on was that this newcomer was on the guard, and as his body hit the grating as he was knocked out, the urge to protect was stronger than self-preservation.
"Oi!" The large woman called before reaching them, breaking the large man's concentration long enough to push herself between the two and practically whip the poor, unconscious man to the side like a ragdoll. It created the space needed to keep him safe from the...
... was that an arm? He was eating an arm? Violet eyes narrowed as she glared into the man's blues with an intensity known only to their kind. Meeting his gaze brought an instant sense of connection that snapped between them like electricity, reminding her of something that hadn't been felt for over four years. Blinking for a moment in surprise, an overwhelming emotion of Pack came over the experiment and it meant that it stopped her from body slamming this strange man to the stage.
"I... you're Genesis?" Eden finally asked, her voice kept fairly quiet between them. Her accent was strange, a mix of British and Ukrainian, as she spoke. "But not my Generation." Lifting her hand, Eden's features twisted in concern. "We do not eat that kind of flesh here, brother... and we do not attack civilians. Toss the arm, we can talk. You're going to create chaos where it should be haven."
"Ow," Tawny whimpered. Seated on a bench inside of a room that looked more like a conservatory than a workshop, the teenager couldn’t help but hiss as two small hands moved a screwdriver to tighten one of the plates on her augmented arm. “I can feel that, doc.”
“I’m sorry, Tawny. These screws are starting to strip because I’ve had to adjust them, so I’ll need to find replacements. You’re an inch taller than you were when I made them, I’ll have to build new ones soon or rebuild these so you don’t end up with gait issues.” The reply came from Doctor Taylor as she examined the metal bits and bobs, including the wiring that was beginning to age from the weather, sun, and water. Sighing softly, the tiny woman put the tool into her leather apron that had definitely been seeing better days. “Move that arm for me and see if it feels better.”
The teenager obeyed, flexing the metal limb that started a few inches above her elbow. Rotating her wrist and opening and closing the elbow, fingers formed fists and loosened a few times. “It feels a little better, but still kind of loose, cher. It will hold for a little while… j'espère; long enough to find replacements.” Tawny’s accent was thicker when she was in pain, like now. The limb felt, to her nerves, like it was injured as an organic one would - and thus, it was stronger now. Her Cajun heritage was pronounced in speech and cooking, but the girl had always made sure people were fed.
Doctor Taylor sighed, turning her attention to the girl’s exposed leg now. Unlike her arm, Tawny likely could have had a ‘normal’ prosthetic on that limb, but it would have required replacement at the same rate as the other limb as the blonde grew into herself. Thankfully, lengthening some of the hydraulics had kept major repair at bay so far. “This looks good, though. I don’t see any rust or major issues despite you going in the woods and water.”
Nodding, Tawny rose to her feet and pulled on the worn jeans that had been removed for her inspection. “I keep it oiled as best I can, but we’re runnin’ low.” Jumping and shifting within the cotton denim worn thankfully thin, it helped negate some of the summer heat outside.
“I’ll ask Freya if she’s willing to go on a run. I know there was an auto repair shop a couple miles down the road that should have everything we need for your augments.” Doctor Taylor responded, watching carefully to see how Tawny was moving. Unlike a year and a half ago, there was no awkward leaning or shifting and no visible pain as the teenager moved. Likewise, as she pulled on and buttoned up a linen shirt and bent to put on worn boots, nothing seemed amiss.
“Any issues with the dexterity in your arm, or just the feeling like your joints are loose?” She needed to confirm.
“I managed to braid my hair last night, it just felt… bizarre. Like I wasn’t able to grip sometimes.” Tawny answered, earning a nod from the good doctor. “I would like to get this fixed before shearin’ starts. I have to do it manuellement and need to be able to grip.”
Doctor Taylor sighed at the thought. Everything was always a deadline, and there never seemed to be enough time to do any of it. Vaccine research, maintaining the augments, acting as sort of a medical doctor with the help of far too many textbooks, and more. She needed help like she needed oxygen, but luck had never been something Cassidy had ever been acquainted with. Before the Fall, it would have been easy to find an assistant - people would have lined up for it. Now, they were lucky if they had enough people to assure food and safety at times.
Tawny left after that, allowing Taylor to sit in silence on her metal rolling bench as she had countless times before. It took the redhead a moment to rise to her feet, allowing well-worn Vans to grip the flooring that needed a good sweep. This area of the old pharmacy she had taken over could afford to be a little dirty, unlike the area scrubbed regularly with soap and vinegar actually used for research.
Trekking across the tiles to the door, it was opened into the small little town that made up home. Camp Hope Light was really just a name, really - it was a small town that had been surrounded by high walls, the group members taking shifts guarding it that were able to use weapons. Taylor was not among them, far more into hiding than confrontation, but it brought comfort to see patrols happening along the top of walls.
Warm brown eyes glanced up, looking at an old water tower that served now as a vantage point for those on patrol. On top of it sat a figure that she had come to know semi-well after the last six months: Eden. The tall, fit woman was dressed in a white tank top and black cargo pants with combat boots gripping the rusting metal. Forever watching, Eden had often been referred to (and had called herself) a guard dog in a human-like body. “Eden!”
Violet eyes turned from the landscape of the sea to look down, tilting her head in response. Eden was a woman of very few words.
“Have you seen Freya!?” The doctor inquired.
A shake of Eden’s head answered her.
“When you see her, please let her know I need her to do a supply run for the augments!”
Eden nodded, turning herself back to watching. After being locked up as long as she had, the ‘young’ woman seemed to enjoy the sea and forests a bit too much. It was beautiful and serene when there was no Damned to be found.
Doctor Taylor shook her head, turning back to head into her workshop to get a bit more done before Tawny would surely have some dinner waiting for them.
Project Genesis information rough draft posted here.
Survivors of all shapes, sizes, and races are more than welcome. No one else needs to play into Genesis unless they want to or are comfortable with some very dark and traumatizing themes.
Wouldn't it be amazing if you could use more of your brain? Become smarter, stronger, faster, in the name of war and the good traits of humanity? That was the basis for Project Genesis. The desire for better men, better soldiers, unlocking more of the human potential.
In the medieval times, knights were valued for their ability to fight, to think, and to keep the other men safe. Rewarded heavily by their lords, it came as no surprise of their value to Medieval warfare. However, some men seemed to be better at what they did than others. There were tales of men who could hold off entire armies by themselves, of generals who could turn the tide of war with what seemed to be just a blink of the eye. So many nobles and royals decided that they needed more of that; they desired the power that was held in the brain of just a handful of men. Why not try to replicate it?
At first, they relied on the alchemists; an alchemist would know how to open a man's brain to be able to be more useful to be better equipped for war. Right? In truth, many of those alchemists were actually killing the soldiers they experimented on due to poisoning, illness, allergies. While the project, at first, seemed to be in only the United Kingdom and Europe, it spread over time to other countries that grew interested in the idea of creating a better soldier through means controllable by man.
In every ‘generation’ of research, many died - most did, as a matter of fact. Between 5-8% of those experimented on lived through the horrendous processes. It had always been favorable to use the ‘less dead’; they wouldn't find these orphans, prostitutes, and prisoners and no one would miss them.
Overtime, alchemy became medicine. The research used to try opening up more of the human brain became science. A closely-guarded secret, and the process began to vary by country. While research was traded or stolen between different laboratories, variants began to come out that were a little different.
As medicine gave way for more reliable nanotechnology, the success rate of Genesis injections moved from 5-8% to 12-15%. Genetics played a large role in survival rate, as you needed to have good ones to not die screaming as the technology worked to rebuild you. If you were missing certain traits, different chains needed to finish the linking of neurons, you died a horrible death of essentially being melted alive. If you had the traits needed, it was still painful - a rebirth into something different.
Something better, according to science.
Men who survived found themselves changed into the perfect specimens - large predators built for fighting and defending. Women were far, far less common and, when they came out of things, were also larger and stronger, but they didn’t have the muscle mass of the men. All were limber, strong, fast, and began to form neuropathic connections that were often referred to simply as The Link.
While it varied by country as to how the units were able to ‘link up’, many found it natural. Like turning on and off a radio channel, being able to hear others’ thoughts, smell, taste, hear what they were experiencing, and sometimes even see through one another’s eyes. In a way, some units worked a bit like a hive mind. Some that made it this far went mad with the massive changes, earning an execution. It was better to have a dead experiment than a crazy one who wasn’t able to be controlled.
Except the death of members, especially those with an open Link, was like severing their own lives at times. A drawback to their newfound power and prowess, being able to feel the shot and the loss of another’s life was another means to drive the experiments insane. Some committed suicide after the loss of their comrades, unable to handle the loss and grief. Entire units would wipe themselves out, the ability to cope lost on those who were raised to be tools.
Countries varied in how they kept and treated their experiments. Many of them were the equivalent of war crimes by condition - cells, cameras, torture either by gathering data or just trying to break the human spirit out of them completely.
When humanity fell, and some of Genesis survived, it was a completely new world to them. How were they to navigate a fallen country, a fallen world with no direction, no handler, no orders? Would they kill every human they came across, would they become protectors, or would they learn how to be human again?
Touching is Forbidden. Unless it is to serve the purpose of training, war, or medical care, it is forbidden for experiments to touch others. (This includes other experiments, handlers, civilians, soldiers, and commanders. No physical contact at all. No hugging, kissing, nada.)
Obey. Orders are to be followed indiscriminately. They are not to be questioned. (Genesis was made to be attack dogs, they were expected to be obedient about it.)
Remain in Condition. Train daily and keep your mind sharp for the times ahead. Maintain your equipment and yourself.
Preserve the Peace: Members of the Swedish Genesis program are trained not only for combat but also for maintaining societal order. Any action taken must contribute to the stability and peace of the community. Unnecessary aggression is discouraged.
Respect the Chain of Command: All instructions from superiors must be followed without hesitation or question. The hierarchy is there for the unity and efficiency of the program. (This includes commands from both military leaders and scientific advisors.)
Enhance and Maintain: Continuous self-improvement is mandatory. This includes daily physical conditioning, mental training exercises, and regular updates to any technological enhancements. Self-care is seen as a duty to remain operational and effective.
Protect the Legacy: Loyalty to the Swedish heritage and its values is paramount. Members must uphold the principles of dignity, justice, and innovation that are cherished in Swedish culture.
Isolation Protocol: Interaction with non-Genesis individuals is minimized to prevent emotional attachments and maintain operational secrecy. Physical contact is restricted to professional scenarios only.
More countries to be added.
Visual Reference - No anime/manga references, please; photography or realistic art
Name Alias/es Gender and pronouns Age Height and weight Hair, eyes, skin color Notable physical characteristics - scars/tattoos, missing limbs, etc Family, if any Immune or susceptible to the virus?
Role/occupation before and after The Fall
Skills Weapon proficiencies
Psychological weaknesses and strengths Chronic pains/illnesses
[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/da/c2/9b/dac29b9cc4d13b81c460ab4935f1e147.jpg[/img][/center]
[color=plum][center][h3]Welcome, welcome![/h3][/center]
[b]The short and sweet:[/b]
I'm an old lady in my thirties, so I ask my partners be 18+.
A veteran of many years of writing - I started [i]way back[/i] in the days of wolf packs on AOL.
Female and pansexual; I write with any and all genders - recently, I'm delving into attempting to write male roles.
Dog mom and outdoor enthusiast; medical professional, volunteer firefighter, first responder, and wildlife rehabilitator.
[center]I'm a fairly open book that has written just about [u]everything[/u] at some point or another. I tend to write decent to long posts, play female characters (attempting to round that out), and I'm amenable to most ideas. I love slice of life, historical, fantasy, and apocalyptic adventures.
World building is fun, but so is quick play. I have a few partners that go back with me for years that I've built entire worlds and multiple generations with.
I tend to have "flawed" characters; perfection is boring, character development is not. Learning to work through their flaws, or overcome fears, is a driving point to play for me. Some of them have profiles, some of them do not. Preferences are for the dark, gritty, and rough - I don't go for fairy tales because everything being perfect would be boring.[/center]
[right]This will keep growing with time, but feel free to PM with any questions or ideas you have in mind! I prefer one on one, but a good group [i]might[/i] be able to catch my eye. It's been literally a decade since I wrote in a group because of a mixture of work, mental health, and obligations outside of the online world.[/right]
[b][center][i]Discord: Honor and Pride#7694[/i][/center][/b][/color]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/da/c2/9b/dac29b9cc4d13b81c460ab4935f1e147.jpg" /></div><br><br><font color="plum"><div class="bb-center"><div class="bb-h3">Welcome, welcome!</div></div><br><br><span class="bb-b">The short and sweet:</span><br>I'm an old lady in my thirties, so I ask my partners be 18+.<br>A veteran of many years of writing - I started <span class="bb-i">way back</span> in the days of wolf packs on AOL.<br>Female and pansexual; I write with any and all genders - recently, I'm delving into attempting to write male roles.<br>Dog mom and outdoor enthusiast; medical professional, volunteer firefighter, first responder, and wildlife rehabilitator.<br><br><div class="bb-center">I'm a fairly open book that has written just about <span class="bb-u">everything</span> at some point or another. I tend to write decent to long posts, play female characters (attempting to round that out), and I'm amenable to most ideas. I love slice of life, historical, fantasy, and apocalyptic adventures. <br><br>World building is fun, but so is quick play. I have a few partners that go back with me for years that I've built entire worlds and multiple generations with.<br><br>I tend to have "flawed" characters; perfection is boring, character development is not. Learning to work through their flaws, or overcome fears, is a driving point to play for me. Some of them have profiles, some of them do not. Preferences are for the dark, gritty, and rough - I don't go for fairy tales because everything being perfect would be boring.</div><br><br><div class="bb-right">This will keep growing with time, but feel free to PM with any questions or ideas you have in mind! I prefer one on one, but a good group <span class="bb-i">might</span> be able to catch my eye. It's been literally a decade since I wrote in a group because of a mixture of work, mental health, and obligations outside of the online world.</div><br><br><span class="bb-b"><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i">Discord: Honor and Pride#7694</span></div></span></font></div>
Member
X Fiendfyre X
wanderingwolf
Snowdrops
katklessinger
ThatLostDude
Silent Showers
Conquerorofsuns
Shifter_Master
BunniesOfDoom
