RolePlayGateway™

I guess that puppy's got a new home, back to you Jim-“Static buzzed in a split second interruption. “With our new handy-“The constant interruption of static chimed in a tune of channel surfing. A man sat in a couch his pale face, darkened by the ignorance of a three day old five o’clock shadow, glowed in the flickering light of the television.

“Why must nothing good ever be o-“Darkness filled the room. The light of the TV near black as light could possibly be. The dark glow was retorted by a loud and constant hum and rainbow colored bars. “What the-“

---

Crack Crack Crack! Gunfire filled the sound of the living room. Laughter echoed, followed by a thoroughly thought out string of insults. A young boy and his friend sat and played their newest copy of Gears of War 4, which featured chainsaws being attached to nearly every piece of armament and gunnery as possible.

“You broke my game!” One of the young boys shouted quickly. The TV had gone dark then screamed out a loud hum and a barrage of rainbow bars.

---

A harsh buzzing noise filled the air. “This is not a test, please remain calm and remain inside of your houses.” A poetic voice lilted a retort, followed by another loud buzz. The contrast of noises was near insulting to anyone. “Please leave your televisions on for further instructions. I repeat, this is not a test. Your local broad-“
If the man could have believed what was happening, his heart would have sank deep into his chest. However, he simply sat, astounded that the bars had interrupted the static of his antenna based service.

“Uncle Dax! Jack broke my game!” Dax looked back from the bars. “What? How?” To which the boy replied. “I don’t know, there are bars on my TV! Like yours!” This was Dax’s cue for his heart to stumble down his lungs and into his stomach. Yet again, this was defied by the pure amazement that a game was somehow changed to the near magical rainbow bars.

“Hang on Kid,” Yes, a quite unfortunate name for a boy, however his parents were no longer on this planet to question their reasoning for naming him Kid. “Let me see.” Dax hopped up and made haste toward Kid’s room. To his surprise, the Xbox was still on and running, yet the bars stared him down.

“My fellow Americans, we are in a time of great trouble.” The president, obviously, spoke out his words; not to console America, but to protect his money makers and potential soldiers. “We have been informed that there are multiple nuclear warheads over our skies. Unfortunately we had no way of detecting how or where they were fired from. We ask you to get to the lowest and most sturdy points in your house. Do not go outside, do not attempt to evacuate. You are as safe as you can possibly be, where you are now.”

This was interrupted by the ground rumbling slightly, the power went out. Dax nearly had enough time to shout out “Get down!”

---

Crack Crack Crack! The sound of gunfire echoed through the rubble. The loud hum of a turbine could be heard in the distance. Dax mustered up enough strength to remove some debris from around his head. The sound clarified. “Nox haru defiandalish! Desuka kel ono redia!” The only thing Dax could understand was the reason for his confusion. A foot crushed some concrete rubble next to his head. More shouts followed. Blonde hair radiated in the hazed view of the sun. This was a woman, perhaps the most beautiful Dax had ever seen. She was draped in dust colored military gear, metallic armor guarding her joints and a slick helmet protected her head. She stepped forward and let her gun burst out a few rounds, followed by screams of the target. She quickly darted away from where Dax stood.

Not long after that, Dax had realized the imperativeness of staying still. This reasoning had proven useless as, after a short moment of silence; he was staring up the sights of a short barreled rifle. A brown haired young man yelled nonsensical orders at Dax. Dax, however, remained frozen. He was affixed on the ears of the young man, something he couldn’t see on the previous woman. Elongated, nearly pointed, his memories drifted back to when he read the old novels written by some guy named J. R. R. Tolkien. –Whack!- The world was dark for Dax. The butt of the gun had met his forehead in a quick strike.

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This role play is about our world being invaded. There are very few rules to start off this role play. If you can follow them you are more than welcome to join!

Character Creation:

• We all start off in the same small neighborhood on the outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia; Lawrenceville. If you know the area, use it to your advantage, if not, no worries just play along!
• The technology of these invaders is just beyond our own, so it seems. The year is 2020 AD. So no beam rifles and insane Mecha!
• You must play a regular old human.
• Please be original with your characters as well.

Rules of the RP:

• Follow site rules.
• Keep all OOC in the OOC thread.
• No posts less than five sentences please.
• Join the OOC thread with your character information and wait to be accepted before posting here.

If you must use a “Character Sheet” follow this template:

Code: Select all

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Description:[/b]
[b]Background:[/b]

(Only reveal a little bit. If you should know anyone in game, make sure they know the other details, not us. Never reveal too much to us unless you befriend us in game. This allows you to really develop your character to suit the needs of the game.)

Rix had been on his computer during the time of the attack. He had the warning before anyone. Rix had given the community a final goodbye and some information on how to survive, even contact information should any piece of technology remain effective. Yet, the attack still left him with little enough time to brace for the sheer force. He could nearly feel the impact in Atlanta. He peered out of the small plexiglass window of his basement. A grand plume of smoke pushed away the surrounding mass of clouds, it stood in solitude. The ground began to quake. This blast was bigger than what would have been expected.

"Harah nahvex! Gahlth dendi!" Rix awoke to screams in a language he'd never been exposed to. A thick dust wafted through the air. Even the gunfire sounded muffled. He scraped around at his sides, realizing he had been better off than he'd expected. He was a bit sore, but not pinned and alive. He was, however, stuck in his basement; as the most of the house had collapsed on top of it. He held back the need to gasp and cough for air as the dust tried to settle. He watched various boots and legs rush by as some form of military, obviously not 'ours', worked it's way through the neighborhood. He noticed them kill some on site, others were taken prisoner; in fact only those appearing to be fit were taken as prisoners.

His neighbor who would always steal his magazines as they came in the mail, was a fat and wretched woman. Yet, he felt sorry as they gutted her and laughed as her innards poured out of her. She fumbled for them, tried to stuff them back in, only to meet her death. His gut curled as he watched countless others share the same fate. "Stupid," he thought, "all of them." He could hear all of them screaming, and getting pulled from where they were. Finally he recognized the oddities of the invaders. They did not have human ears, not by a long shot. They were strange, long, and pointed. He did his best to remain hidden. The loud hum of turbines lingered overhead. Something shifted in the rubble of his house. -CRACK-

---

Rix woke up once more, to silence, a board was laying on top of him. It didn't keep him pinned, however it made getting out of the rubble of his house a bit trickier. His head was sore, he put two and two together. He peered out of the dust covered debris. He saw no one. After a short wave he gave a brave "Hello? Anyone still alive?"

"N-" Rix was interrupted by an unexpected cough. "No, I’m fine." He shouted which, through the rubble and debris, only became barely audible through the house and out the doorway. It was best heard from the small, shattered, window of his basement. So far, he had been surprisingly lucky. Rix managed to get his dust covered self out. It was a slow and tedious process. Once he managed to worm out of the hole, he glanced back. His most beautiful possessions were demolished. All of his small projects, his computers, even the bullet proof nPod had been crushed by the weight of half a house. After he muttered a short but ever so sweet continuum of curses, he stood up and dusted off.

If the sight hadn’t been horrific enough from the basement, it sank in now. The old witch’s body, gutted and sprawled, was a small thing to wince at. He saw a small girl holding half of an infant. This was probably some sort of cruel punishment to all of the dead baby jokes he used to make. He decided to stop his study of the bodies that were strewn about. He turned his attention to the brave soul who found his doorway. “Sorry, had to take the long way out.” He tried to joke, though the other man had showered in various bits of dust, most likely of his own home.

Vickie, her yell cawed through the air. He had seen her a few times on his various walks. They had introduced themselves for a brief moment before. They were by no means friends, but they were people who knew each other. “Shit.” He gave no explanation to the man in front of him. He simply ran off to the sound of her. “You okay Vickie?” He expected her not to recollect what he looked like, as for the past few weeks he had been running things from his house. He hadn’t been on his long walks for those few weeks. “Yo, Vickie!” He continued to yell out before he finally arrived at her house. Three stories stood leaning over, they ached loudly to pop and collapse. “Where are you at?”

That was when he spotted the most glorious sight he could have ever anticipated during this time. The repetitive copy of a Georgian Tudor home was now a repetitive copy of overpriced bricks that lay crumbled across the mass of what used to be a large yard. Rix’s heart began to race. He thought, “Oh please have gutted him.” He could never stand the Channels; especially when the Nazi poster child, Beau, decided to embrace the neighborhood with his presence. The amount of rich filth he had dragged in since his arrival was more than one neighborhood of any size could possibly handle.

However, the devastation continued as Rix witnessed the soot covered Beau as he gimped their way. This was a true sign of the end of the world. He attempted to ignore the presence of Beau as he called out for Vickie’s location yet again.

“That was one hell of a trick!” Rix exclaimed as he finished pulling Vickie out. He had to twist his body just right to reach far enough down to latch on to her. Then, no thanks to Beau, he had to tug her out on his own strength. “Everything alright as far as the body goes?” Rix gave a slight chuckle to her, trying to lighten things up. He spotted a face he barely recognized; she had no name to him. He watched her run towards them, taking more attention away from the unimportant Beau.

Rix could only think to mutter out a, “Glad to see someone else made it.” That is about the time he remembered one rather interesting person. He had witnessed someone hacking away at watermelons and eventually spends time on their own roof. He recognized him as a member to one of his online communities as well. It was in some sort of picture thread. He didn’t live too far from this area, and Rix had a gut feeling he’d need some help.

“Channel boy, I’ll explain things later. So, make yourself useful, and check out these girls.” He didn’t mean to phrase it like that. That might be the only thing Beau was good at, checking anyone out. “For injuries, see what’s wrong. Any cuts, wrap’em. Any bruises, search for ice. The refrigerators in houses should still be cold. I don’t think that much time has passed. Good luck finding one that’s still up.” He started his jog toward Nevin’s place and shouted behind him, “I’ll meet you all back towards my place, the basement still can serve as save shelter.” He knew this because his house didn’t continue creaking or cracking; it had settled in its destroyed state.

---

It had been a small jog, yet his arrival confirmed his gut feeling. He heard Nevin’s as he called out weakly. It was a wretched sight, when he finally wormed his way to him. Rix couldn’t decide which was worse the Kimono with a cape, or the three separate situations Nevin landed himself into. He didn’t know Nevin’s name, and he assumed Nevin didn’t know him. “It’s Rix, er Vexar, I run one of the sites you go to man.” He worked his way next to Nevin. “Listen, I’ll get you out of this. Then hopefully get you out of that suit…” He tried to lighten the situation up.

The struggle to free Nevin took longer than expected. Things had to be done just right. Luckily the cape served as a tool to bandage his arm then wrap his side. The rafter that pinned him down was merely jammed against the wall; it was easy enough to move from an awkward position. Luckily the wood puncturing his side was just a painful cut, nothing too deep. The sword pinning the arm was the worst of the injuries. His head had been gashed, but was easy enough to keep pressure on. He loosened the sword that Nevin had worn. “Listen; use this as a cane if you must. We need to get you somewhere, where we can get some ice on the wounds.” The unfortunate matter was they really needed heat, to burn the wounds closed. He helped Nevin up and escorted him out of the ragged house.

---

Walking at the pace they had walked, Rix noticed more of his surroundings. The gore was loosing its distaste. It was becoming normality, slowly, but surely. He heard something rattling around. There was a silver Soltara. It was a new Pontiac car that he had looked at when buying a new car recently, though his own new car had met its end to a tree toppling over on it. Inside the flipped Soltara was a young woman, Rix had never seen her before. He assured that Nevin would be able to sit or stand on his own.

He rushed over to help the girl. He saw she had been only cut or bruised up. “Everything alright?” He asked her, “Let me help you out.” He reached in and slowly helped her out. He made sure not to let her slip or get cut on any other bits of shattered glass. Just as he pulled her out the air bags deemed it necessary to deploy, as some sort of cruel joke of fate to say ‘I still could have killed you’. Rix merely shook his head and stated, “I’m taking him back to my place, the others should be there by now.. C’mon” He added, "Oh the name's Rix."

It had been a longer trek back to Vickie’s place than expected. He, Dix, and Nevin had worked their way there. It had grown to be mid afternoon. As they rounded the bend, they realized no one was there. It must have been too long for the others. He decided it was best to attempt to find them back at his place; hopefully they’d know where he meant. Seeing as his house was now half collapsed, which was better than most others at the moment. He noted for Diz to follow, and that it would be safer than being where they were. Nevin had seemed to pass out by this point, so the haul made the rest of the trek only seem that much longer. They had finally arrived at his house, hoping the others would be there. He began to search for signs of life, peaceful life.